I may have mentioned that I was a little down in January – a little bored and a little lonely and missing the sun. So I decided to make a concerted effort to expand my friend circle past 7. I had 8 last year, but I lost one to divorce.

When I first came to Spain after retirement, I wanted to concentrate on making friends with Spanish and Catalan people. I didn’t have much interest in meeting English speakers. But, I’ve decided that I need to make concessions.

I found a group online called the U3A Group. The members are all retired expatriate English speakers. U3A stands for “University of the 3rd Age.” The idea of a university of the third age originated from legislation in France during the 1970’s which required universities to provide for lifelong education. The “Third Age” is described as “the period of time after the First Age of childhood dependence and the Second Age of full time employment and parental responsibility.” The movement spread, initially to French speaking countries, and then across the globe. Today, U3A is made up of locally-run interest groups that provide opportunities for those no longer in work to come together and learn for fun.

I joined and signed up for the Leisurely Walk group, the Medium Walk group and, of course, the Scrabble Group. I was really interested in the Local Interest Group and the History Group, but they’ve been inactive since COVID.

I went to my first event today, the Leisurely Walk + Lunch. I was right. They were all warm and welcoming and delightful! I enjoyed it so much more than I ever imagined. Most were from the UK, but a 95 year-old woman, who is a founding member of the Costa Brava group, is from Australia, and one couple is from Iceland. They’ve all been here on the Costa Brava much longer than I have and they have a lot of experience that I think could be useful to me. And they were very interesting.

We walked around the medieval town of Sant Marti d’Empuries. I’d never heard of of the town even though it’s only 30 or so minutes from my town. It was very charming! At lunch, the restaurant gave us a free appetizer of calçots, which are giant green onions that are in season now and are traditionally charred on the grill, stripped of the outer layer, and dipped in a romesco sauce. Today at the restaurant they were uncharacteristically fried in batter and served with the traditional sauce. They were so good I ate someone else’s at the table who didn’t want theirs. It does look a little anatomical, however.

The members of the group were so nice, they talked me into signing up to play Petanca and I don’t even know what it is! Supposedly, it’s like bocce ball and they don’t play very seriously, so hopefully it won’t matter how bad I am at it.

I also signed up for the Scrabble group, but this week’s game was cancelled because someone died. I hope that doesn’t happen a lot. I told the Scrabble group leader that I play by my own rules and she said I should fit right in.

I never really thought I would have the opportunity to get there! It was too overwhelming for me to attempt on my own and everyone I know here either had already climbed it and didn’t care to repeat it, or just didn’t want to at all. So, I was very fortunate that my French friend and guide from my yoga class took me on! I was terrified that I couldn’t keep up. She’s younger and in super good shape and I’m older and in moderately good shape at best. It wasn’t a walk in the park. I’d been told that it would be relatively easy to find the way. Ha! Parts of the way seemed to follow a worn path, but much of the way was just choosing which rock to put my weight on to heist myself forward. Luckily, I was able to follow in Sylvie’s footsteps. But still…there were lots of rocks, some slippery, some unstable. How many times did I think about Sylvie having to dial 112 (Spanish 911) for an ambulance? Thank God that didn’t happen and both hips and both knees are still in tact!

Once we got to the top, the views were just incredible towards the sea, the rice fields, the farms and villages.

After having a quick lunch on the walls of the castle atop the hill, Sylvie asked if I wanted to go down a different way that was MORE challenging. Oh sure!

I gotta say the goats were one of the best parts.

Random weird thing that happened:

A package was delivered from Amazon to one the apartments in my complex (of 12 ). I know the owners and they haven’t been around much this year and I doubt they were having a package delivered here, so I checked it out. It was addressed to a woman’s name (not their name) and at a different address on my street. I thought about trying to deliver it myself, but the houses aren’t really numbered, and NO ONE is here anyway. I called Amazon. They said I would be contacted by a delivery service to pick it up. A few days later I got an email from the delivery service to verify my address for pick up. Days went by, then a couple of weeks went by. I tried to give the package to the Amazon guy who showed up with a package I’d actually ordered, but he said he couldn’t take it. So, I decided that whatever was in the package was now mine. I opened it, and this is the weird part, it was a bag of dry dog food. It isn’t the brand I normally buy, but it is specifically for dogs with urinary problems, which Cassie has and I always buy the urinary-specific kind. Strange, huh?

That’s how they spell chef in Catalan.

I’ve been trying my hand at some traditional Catalan dishes. My masterpiece was Canelons, which Catalans traditionally eat on Sundays and holidays. I know why! It was a little complicated and I used every pot in my kitchen! It involves grinding together cooked chicken, pork, and beef to make the stuffing, cooking the pasta, assembling the cannellonis, and then making and covering them with bechamel sauce and finally with emmenthal cheese. I’d say it was worth it, though I won’t be making them again for a while! And I ate them for days…

Another traditional dish is trinxat. It’s a mash-up of cooked cabbage and potatoes with some sausage thrown in and bacon. I’ve never been a big fan of cabbage, but the combination of ingredients was quite good!

And I finally made my first Spanish tortilla (potato and onion omelette)! I had a little help, but it came out perfectly!

I also tried eating sea urchins for the first time. I was told that their flavor is very intense, sort of like eating the sea and that people either love them or hate them. I liked them. They tasted a bit like oysters with a similar slimy consistency, but with a stronger flavor. When in Rome!

I’m headed to Galicia next month, where the famous or infamous delicacy is goose barnacles. They look super gross, but I think I’ll try one for the hell of it. I’ll report back. Below is a photo of the goose barnacles, called percebes in Spain, and a link to an article if you’re interested.

Food of Galicia: Percebes (Goose Barnacles)

I’ve mentioned in previous posts some of the interesting translations of food items on menus. Here are some others I’ve found on real estate sites, AirBnb, or other random sites. This may be an ongoing theme…

• Homely semi-detached house…

• …the house is floor and floor. Good chance…
  
• … the largest contains a large dressing room and the traditional volt ceilings…

• The houses are completely restored. Consist of 12 bedrooms, 13 bathrooms, dining rooms with chimney, kitchen office completely equipped, terraces, porche (nice touch!)

• Otherwise, our market is open 24/7 with a large selection of products such as fresh jar food…

• Basically, you can usually tell from the taste whether the water quality invites you to drink. If it tastes strongly of chlorine or salty, you automatically lose interest in tap water.

• Used Wagon cars Barcelona Spain
  
• (re home recycling pick-up) Every day from 8 pm to 10 pm, according to the pre-established calendar, you can leave the fraction that touches the rubbish bins in front of your portaI
  
• If we to throw our heart over the obstacle, we could see this dream realised by the end of 2024.

And just on tonight’s menu:

Old beef entrecôte
Calf fillet
Meat tartar

Another menu item: Cod with mashed topinamburs (wha?)

I’ve learned that our exclamations in English are not the same in other languages. For example, “youpi” is French for “yay”; “guau” is Spanish for “wow”; and “buff” is Spanish for “ugh,” I think.

I came up with a couple more “pro’s” for living in Spain:

• No roaches in the shower, the toilet, the sink, flying around, or ANYwhere (at least in the north)!
  
• The safety factor. I’m not afraid of personal violence here. If anyone would ever try to rob me, I am certain I could be threatened with force, but not with a gun. That’s a huge relief.

And just so you know you’re in good company, I now have over 122 followers from 29 countries! Kinda fun.

Someone added a smile to the yellow circle designating no parking near my house…

This may be a little “heavier” than my usual posts, but I thought it was interesting. Please don’t roll your eyes without reading.

I noticed a new permanent road sign upon entering the town of Regencòs, the town in between Begur and the bigger town where I have to go to do things, Palafrugell. The sign reads:

Regencòs does not tolerate sexual assault

Wow. Can you imagine driving through a small town in Texas and seeing such a sign? Ha!

My point is not to make a political statement. I’m just noting some of the different priorities between our countries. And there are probably other human rights issues that are given greater weight in the US…

I read this article:

“Waving purple flags (purple is the color of the anti-violence against women movement), several thousand protesters marched through Madrid and Barcelona demanding an end to violence against women in a country where fighting domestic violence is a national priority.

The rally took place to mark the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women (in November), with demonstrations also taking place in Valencia, Seville and other cities around Spain. 

In the Spanish capital, marchers wearing purple masks, hats and scarves walked behind a huge banner reading “Enough of male violence against women. Solutions now!”

“Not all of us are here, the murdered are missing,” they chanted as they marched past the Cibeles fountain and other historic buildings that had been illuminated in purple. “

Bravo!

The photo of the sign below on display at my grocery store is difficult to read, and it’s in Catalan, but it says “Quiet hours each Saturday from 3:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. in all our establishments. The intensity of the lights and accoustics will be reduced to assist persons with autism and sensorial hypersensitivity to shop.”

Again. Wow. Or as they say in Spanish, Guau!

Bonus photo of the flowering rosemary in the garden. I need to figure out what to cook with it.

My neighbor’s ex-wife (before she was the ex) told me that he had promised her when she moved here that it would never get below 9°C (that’s 48°F). Well, that was a lie. It was 2°C degrees last week and it probably won’t be the last time this year. I know it’s often bitterly cold where some of you live, so I’m sorry if this sounds like whining. I always used to say I hated winter, and these same things do still bother me, though not as much:

1. The most important – it’s too cold
2. Too many clothes – hard to move, hard to drive
3. Always having to put on clothes, take off clothes, which coat is the right weight?
4. Getting sleeves (long, possibly with a sweater) wet washing the dishes
5. Dry skin – exacerbates the excema on my legs
6. Electricity in my hair – this may be the absolute worst!
7. Cold, gray days – just makes everything dismal

And it is correct that if you dress properly you won’t be cold. I’ll give you that, but it doesn’t relieve the other six problems.

I read an article in the expat newspaper recently that said the last thing that crosses most people’s minds when they think of Spain is the idea of being freezing cold. Per the article:

“…daytime winter temperatures in Spain can vary between minus degrees in the central and northern regions near the Pyrenees (I’m pretty near the Pryenees) to around 10°C to 15°C in the south. While this might not sound bad, the problem is often that houses in Spain are not well-equipped for winter and it can sometimes feel far colder inside the house than it does outside…. (no kidding!) One of the main reasons why Spanish homes are so cold is the lack of insulation, as many houses were designed to be kept cool during the hot months with little thought for the colder months. Combine that with the glacial winters some parts of Spain have, and you’re more than likely to keep your scarf and thick wooly socks on indoors. [I DO!!]”

One reader commented: “I was surprised that Spain had a winter at all. I’d never really been cold before moving to Madrid”. Another added: “My Canadian mother has said that the coldest winter she had spent was in Extremadura, Spain…and she lived above the continent on islands in the Artic for several years”.

“Particularly if you’re renting a place, you’ll often find that your house or apartment won’t be equipped with central heating.” TRUE! I have a couple of electric radiators and now an electric blanket that the dogs and I share/fight over.

The author added: “Hahaha I once met an English girl who was actually going back home to England for winter – she said that during winters she effectively freezes less in the UK than in Barcelona.”

Here’s hoping for an early spring!!!! Stay warm out there…

I’ve been told that returns in France are frowned upon, unless there is a defect in the item. Like in the old days in the US. It wasn’t that easy to return a purchase. You had to tell the lady at the counter “why” you didn’t want it and they didn’t always take it. Nowadays, as one friend put it, in the US you could throw your package up in the air and somehow it would get returned – it’s just that easy.

Because there’s a pandemic going on and I haven’t been shopping much, and also because there is a dearth of stores near me, I place a lot of online orders. And, sadly, shopping fills some inner void, but that’s a deeper discussion. Let’s just say the Amazon delivery guy and I are friends. But this also means, there will be returns.

I ordered a few things from a store that specializes in sportswear and sleepwear. I ordered a pajama top to match a pajama bottom I already had, and they sent me a pajama bottom in a diffferent color. I called Customer Service and they told me I had to take it to a physical store. Really? So, I drove an hour to Girona and went to the store where I was told they could not take back the item. I waited around while the clerk phoned headquarters and then told me that someone would call me to work it out. They called once while I was in London around Christmas and I missed the call. I just gave up — it was only about 7 euros.

I ordered a pair of shoes which I didn’t like when they arrived, so again I called because you have to get “permission” to return the item, and it was an ordeal. She said it was “too late”, but I said the internet site says 60 days, so after conferring with her superior she told me I was right. She said someone from a delivery service would contact me within the next day or two to pick up the item. I waited, and waited…no one came. So after about 10 days I went online to figure out how to call them back and I saw that the price had been refunded to me. I guess I have a free pair of shoes to give to a charity.

Oh, and there was the pair of shoes I ordered from Amazon France. When I took the package bearing the pre-printed label to the Post Office, I was told it was impossible. Apparently the shoes were from Slovakia and if you’re in Spain, you can’t mail anything to Slovakia. Period. I called Amazon and they allowed me to return the shoes to the Amazon Paris location, thank goodness.

Also, getting things delivered is tricky. Sometimes they will leave the package at my door, sometimes they won’t. And when they don’t, I have to go pick it up from a dropoff location. They’re all different — a tobacco store, a computer store (actually two or three different ones), a coffee shop, and a children’s clothing store. It’s interesting…

This just came. This’ll teach me to do the measurement conversion before ordering!! I decided I wanted a cast iron skillet. There were none in the grocery store or the hardware store and obviously, I don’t have Walmart, so I ordered one. It said 16 cm and it looked like just the right size. It looked bigger in the photo on the Amazon site. Doesn’t it? One picture shows a pie in it! I didn’t realize it was a personal-sized pie. Notice the actual pan next to my coffee cup. Damn.

“You have arrived at your destination” – GPS gets tourist trapped on staircase in Alicante old town

I saw this in a Spanish newspaper for expats this week! I’ve come so close to being in a similar predicament! Wow. The year of living dangerously when I had so many visitors and drove all over Spain and to France four times, I drove on some pseudo roads, and the lady in the GPS did not always have my full confidence. I’m proud that so far I’ve avoided a citation-worthy event such as this!

Also, this past week, another scary incident occurred when I was potentially exposed to COVID. This is my closest call yet, other than just being in a crowded station or on a crowded train or plane…maybe we’re all going to get the damn disease eventually, but I stayed home for five days, eating whatever was left in my fridge and trying not to potentially infect others.

I made it this time, but it seems that we’re all in a one-degree of separation situation, meaning everyone has had a close call. I know I’m preaching to the choir, especially to those working in healthcare, but I’m READY for this to be over!

I think we’re on the sixth wave, at least that’s what they’re calling it here in Spain, but to me, it definitely feels like my second isolation – COVID 2.0. The first time, in 2020, Spain imposed a strict confinement. But, it seemed everyone in the world at that time was in isolation, and was feeling the same pain. This time feels different to me. We’re all damned tired of being scared and being careful.

I don’t want to take it anymore. Lots of people have lost someone, including me, though a friend I hadn’t seen in some time. I certainly don’t mean to minimize the seriousness, but I feel like we’re all suffering, and we need some relief! Just sayin. I hope it ends.

They don’t let camper vans park in the cul-de-sac by my apartments anymore, but there are still a lot of people who hike around the area, following the paths or “camins” first created by fishermen. Some of the camins are more difficult than others, through dense brush or on rocky paths or steep inclines. Others have been improved by the local government and are easy to navigate. There is a promontory just next to my apartment that seems to draw a lot of hikers to climb to the top for the view…my view! So, it’s not unusual for me to look out my window and see some strangers poking around on the point not far from me.

The other morning, I woke up and was laying in bed contemplating the sky and the day’s weather, when I saw (without my glasses) a very weird bird flying past my window. When I sat up, I saw it was a drone!! I was wearing my nightgown, but it was very disconcerting. I don’t have curtains and I like it that way. I wake up with the sun.

I didn’t capture a photo of the drone, but I snapped one of these guys right out my window. I guess it’s no different than having people walk past your house on the sidewalk, but it feels more invasive and weird.

Ever since I came here, I’ve observed in the distance the three mountains just across the water, before the Serra del Cadí, the range of mountains that leads to the Pyrennees. The middle mountain bears what I refer to as a square nipple, because that is what it resembles from a distance, but it is actually a 13th century castle. A long time ago, I climbed flights of stairs during lunch with a friend (up to 50), and ever since, I’ve wanted to climb things – the Eiffel Tower (never have) and other castles and lighthouses, which I have, and now the Massif de Montgri where the Montgri Castle stands. I had yet to find anyone willing to take the challenge with me and I was a little nervous to try it alone (at my age, you know). A younger and very fit woman in my Yoga class who has climbed it many times said she would go with me when the weather improves. The 360-degree view of the mountains and ocean from the castle are supposed to be spectacular. I’ll let you know if I make it. Until then, below are photos of (1) the view of the Massif from my balcony, (2) a closer-up view of the Massif and its castle, (3) and the castle itself. I climb a fair amount in my daily walks, but they are for the most part paved. This is steep and rocky. Wish me luck.

Happy New Year (in Catalán)! Or happy another year. I really have no words for what we’re all going through, but it doesn’t seem “new.”

Eating 12 grapes at midnight on New Year’s Eve is a tradition and a superstition in Spain, one grape for each stroke of midnight. Each one symbolizes one of the 12 lucky months ahead. The biggest challenge is to not gag as you cram them in your mouth or swallow while laughing.

I read that the tradition “can also be particularly dangerous to elderly people and children under the age of five, where the risk of choking is significantly higher. For this reason, the Spanish Society of Otolaryngology has issued a warning where they advise the most vulnerable groups to avoid partaking in the popular custom.” Ha! I beat the odds! It was a bit of a challenge, but I got them all down and I’m looking forward to a very lucky year!!

On to the next holiday…Three Kings Day. The 5th of January is the day when children in Spain receive their Christmas presents from the “Three Kings”. Remember that on Christmas, they receive treats shitted out of a log! (see prior blog post). On January 6, Epiphany concludes the Twelve Days of Christmas. It’s the tradition on this day to eat a cake called “Tortell de Reis” (cake of kings). It’s a round cake filled with marzipan or whipped cream similar in appearance and texture to a New Orleans’ King Cake. Inside the cake instead of a baby are two surprises : a dried field bean and a figurine of one of the three kings. The lucky one who gets the figurine is allowed to wear a paper crown. The person who finds the bean has to pay for the cake!

The last photo above is of my Christmas “haul” from the city of Begur. Every resident aged 65 or over receives a basket of champagne, sweets, paté, olives, and a calendar! I love this place!

Here’s hoping for a brighter 2022! I had a great sunset tonight. I can’t resist these posts…