Thursday Doors visits Caldes d’Estrac

I had only one reason to visit Caldes d’Estrac. Not because back in the late 19th and early 20th centuries it was noted for its thermal baths. Those glory days are largely gone: and in any case I live near the spa town of Harrogate. I went because of its art gallery, Fundacio Palau Fabre, largely dedicated to Picasso. More about that another day.

This is a small town with big hills. I toiled up, then skittered down slope after slope as I explored. But it had doors to pause by. Most of my shots are in my camera, and not to be seen till I go home. (Tomorrow. How shall I survive? It’s 14 whole degrees colder back in England) So here’s just one that took my fancy.

This is my first offering to Dan’s Thursday Doors for a very long time. But I thought this distressed door deserved its fifteen minutes of fame. Or 5 anyway.

La Sardana Sunday

La Sardana is the traditional dance of Catalonia. It’s been around in one way or another since the 1600s, but really came into its own in the 19th century. Back in the fascist era, Franco did his best to ban it, as he tried to ban all forms of regionalism, or worse, independence. He suppressed the distinct languages within Spain: Catalan, Basque, Galician, with the result that they have now sprung back stronger than before.

Anyway, la Sardana. It’s a circle dance, with men and women, neighbours, friends, strangers joining hands, moving slowly in a circle following the fairly complex foot moves of the leader. When the circle starts getting too big, a second circle starts, then a third ..

On Sunday morning, we took ourselves down into town to watch the mini-Sardana festival. We immediately noticed that I fitted the age-profile the best. Every single dancer was over 60. Anaïs’ friend’s granny immediately wanted to put that right, and appointed herself Anaïs’ personal Dance Mistress. With not much success.

A few younger citizens took themselves off to practice in a quiet corner …

And after a slow start, the event got going. Not having a single dance gene in my body, I wasn’t tempted to get involved, despite being The Right Age. But it’s rather sad that this seems to be the general view among the young. Would Franco get his wish after all, and see the Sardana vanish a hundred years after he tried to banish it?

Postcards from Arenys de Mar

Here I am in Spain on Granny Duty. Today, I’m not needed till 5.00, when I collect Anaïs from nursery. So I took myself off to Arenys de Mar, just up the coast from here. Once upon a time, it was an important ship-building town, and remnants still exist in the form of repairing and restyling yachts and other craft. And it’s still a fishing town, so off I went to the fishing port, where I had long since missed the daily fish auction. Oddly, this starts high and the bidding goes lower till it sticks. I can’t quite get my head round that.

The fishing port, the yachts, and the town

The boats here are small family-run craft. Industrial fishing it ain’t. So fishermen were out and about doing running repairs to their boats, and sitting down checking their nets and mending them. It all seemed time-honored and traditional.

Mending the nets

Who knew that fishing nets could all look so different?

Next time I go, I’ll be in time for the auction. Maybe.

Symmetry in Spain

This week, Sofia asks us to consider Symmetry for the Lens Artists Challenge. I’m sick of rain and storms and gales here in the UK, so I think I’ll whisk you off to Spain, where even in winter you can depend on at least some sunny skies.

As the featured photo shows, we arrive at Barcelona Airport and head straight for the Metro. But we’ll stay here only long enough to go to my very favourite place there, the Hospital de Sant Pau.

Hospital de Sant Pau

We’ll just nip up the coast to Canet de Mar and the  Lluís Domènech i Montaner House-Museum. I promised a whole post about this, and this reminds me I have yet to write it. Soon …

Then we’ll head for Valencia, and visit the old – La Lonja, the Silk Exchange; the Puente del Mar crossing a park that was once a river, the Turia – and the new: La Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias.

Perhaps Alicante next? A stroll along the seafront?

Alicante

Then Córdoba. We have to head for its ancient church, once a mosque, la Mezquita.

And let’s stay down south, and go to Granada, and the Alhambra The selfie-seeker wouldn’t shift, so she’s immortalised here.

Then Cádiz 

Cadiz

And that’s all we have time for. We’ll go home the long way round, on board ship,

Thanks Sofia. I need this break. But it’s still raining outside …

It’s a Sign …

This week, for the Lens-Artist Challenge, Johnbo bids us to seek out signs. My header photo was taken several years ago, but seems even more prescient now that it was then.

Let’s stay with the somewhat political, some more serious than others. Do click on each image to see it full size and read the explanatory caption.

Warning notices, some more serious than others. There’s even one from the Lockdown era. Remember that?

And a miscellany to finish off with: a tribute on our local buses after the death of Queen Elizabeth II; a light-hearted invitation to a coffee shop in Liverpool and a less than inviting hotel name in Mahabalipuram, Tamil Nadu, India.

Spider alert!

Denzil, in this week’s Nature Photo Challenge, asks us to hunt for spiders and their webs – something that it’s easy to do at this time of year in Britain. Only yesterday, a huge specimen was standing guard over the shoe-rack. But by the time I’d got my camera, he’d vanished. These then, are all archive photos, and unidentified. Helpful suggestions welcomed.

The first one is from India. Perhaps I J Khanewala can help? And the second is also not from England, but from La Rioja in Spain.

The third is from Masham Parish Church, and it’s dead. Is it even a spider?

For the rest, I offer a gallery of webs, mainly taken on misty moisty mornings, or in fog, lending them a mysterious and often ethereal quality.

These were taken in Dumfries and Galloway, in Cairnsmore of Fleet National Nature Reserve. As is the header photo.

The next group come from just down the road, near Sleningford Hall.

And lastly, we return to India, where a tunnel spider has made his complex lure.

Tunnel spider’s nest

Recharging and Renewal

What do you need to do to recharge your batteries? That’s the question posed by Egidio, in this week’s Lens-Artists Challenge. And my answer is the same as his: I need to get out, to surround myself with the natural world.

Living in France, in the foothills of the Pyrenees, the mountains grounded me in many ways. The sheer scale of them put me in my place – in a good way: reminding me how little my own concerns counted in the great scheme of things. Here’s a quiet scene from a lakeside high up the slopes not too far from our house.

Or these, from le Cap du Carmil …

There, lakes provided the solace that being near water often provides. Back in the UK, it’s the sea.

For the everyday recharge, it’s greenery, plain and simple. Local woodlands.

…or just a little bit more distant – Coverdale.

There’s just one place I need to mention though: one I’ve talked about before, more than once. A special afternoon and evening in l’Albufera, just beyond Valencia, where there is nothing but the lagoon, the sky, and wildlife … and peace. That’s my featured photo, and my best recharge ever.

Further Adventures of Major General Algernon Gove

Poor Algernon (if I may be so familiar). I abandoned my Major General last month as he planned further destinations in a trip to invigorate him in his old age. He’s my stooge as I attempt to complete Paula’s Pick a Word Challenge. The five words Paula offers us are intended to be a stimulus to us to choose five appropriate photos: I decided a bit of verbal silliness would add a little extra difficulty. Not ‘alf. These are Paula’s chosen words: distinctive; floating; fortified; playful and saddle. Make something of that, Major General!

In case you’re not familiar with him, this is how his saga began …

A retired Major General from Hove
with the moniker Algernon Gove
said ‘Before life unravels
I must finish my travels.’
And forthwith he made plans to rove.

But it gets worse …

His next plan was to go pony-trekking.
He booked something in Wales without checking.
It might be quite a chore ?
He could get saddle-sore?
Oh dear no - there’s a plan that needs wrecking.

Our old chap nursed a long-term ambition
to explore sites with years of tradition.
A castle, he voted,
fortified, or deep-moated.
He’d find one - he'd make that his mission.

Perhaps all his plans were restrictive?
He should aim now for something distinctive.
Something playful and fun.
‘Cos when all’s said and done
to enjoy life should just be instinctive.

He knew he’d no taste for long trips
that took him o’er oceans in ships.
But he’d go in a boat
floating nowhere remote -
while enjoying some fresh fish and chips.
When the Major General saw frisky ponies like these, he knew he’d never be able to stay in the saddle.
He started off at Dunstanburgh Castle in Northumberland. Not very adventurous. So he went to the Château de Lagarde in the Ariège, France, shown in the featured photo, and then…
… Sagunt, near Valencia.

You can have a playful time on London’s South Bank, and at the London Eye. But it’s more distinctive to discover pastures new – at the evening fair in Gdansk, perhaps.

That’s more like it. Floating quietly on Lake Ohrid, North Macedonia. He had the fish he’d caught in the lake later, where they cooked it for him at the lakeside restaurant.

WP is being very irritating today. It won’t let me centre some of my photos, or alternatively to align all my shots to the left, whatever I try, and however loudly I shout at my laptop. So I have to admit defeat.

A Work in Progress

That’s this post, really. We’ve been away all week, discovering Shropshire with friends who’ve moved there. Getting to know this county and its landscapes, its industrial history, its towns and villages is a work in progress for us. But it’s left me only with time to throw together a quick response to Ann-Christine’s Lens Artists Challenge: Work in Progress.

We’re all Works in Progress – all our lives. But children especially so. Fierce concentration here, and enjoyment too …

Hard at work with bucket and spade.

Slightly older children can hold their own with adults when it comes to demonstrating proficiency – in this case sheep-handling at Masham Sheep Fair.

Sheep-handlers young and old at Masham Sheep Fair

Over in the city, street art out-numbers sheep. Here are two works in progress: the first in Valencia, Spain, the second near Brick Lane, London.

And finally, two shots from India that I remember well: the house opposite my hotel in Puducherry, whose construction was a work-in-progress from about six, till late… it’s up there as my featured photo … and a metalworker hard at work producing figures inspired by the nearby temple at Kumbakonam in Tamil Nadu.

Bronze worker in Kumbakonam