One of our duties here in Spain is The School Run – or maybe just part of it. Leave the house and turn right, and there’s school, under ten minutes away. Leave the house and turn left, and there’s nursery, just over 10 minutes away. So in the afternoon it’s school (finishes 4.30), then nursery (finishes 5.00 o’clock). As we wander home from nursery, the sun is setting, and these are our views.
For Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
For Becky’s NovemberShadows –
And Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
P.S. Despite having a post prepared, being in London discombobulated my Inner Timetable, and I neglected to publish Friday’s Footnotes in History. You’ll have to wait till next week to read about some fashionable, powerful nuns.
https://travelwithintent.com/2025/10/04/its-that-fruity-time-of-year/ – Six Word Saturday
British readers will recognise the allusion to the Flanders and Swann ‘A Transport of Delight’, celebrating the good old London bus. These specimens aren’t from London, but to be found transporting visitors round the vast site which is the museum at Beamish. This is a marvellous place celebrating the day-to-day life of working men and women in the North East of England, mainly from 1900 to the 1950s, but with glances back to earlier times too.
By the way, this is the last day for sending your 100 word story: ‘But What if She Says Yes?’ suggested in my post last Saturday. Only two of you (well, three, counting me) have been brave enough so far.
For Becky’s #SimplyRed.
and Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
When I posted a version of the image above as part of Becky’s #SimplyRed challenge, no fewer than three readers suggested I issue a challenge of my own: to produce a piece of micro fiction based on that intriguing piece of graffiti. Who’s up for it? You three who suggested it? (You know who you are). I supppose I’ll have to too. 100 words maximum. I gather that this form of story telling is called a drabble. If you’re up for it – by this time next week, please….
As you can see, squared, it was impossible to display the entire cri de coeur in a single image.
Becky’s #SimplyRed.
Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
… spotted as I peered out at the foggy garden from our sitting room window, at 7 o’clock this morning.
For Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
Back in 2012, we were living in France. And if we’d believed the doomsayers, not for very much longer. Here’s the story as I told it on my blog, after we’d spent the day with our walking group near the Pic de Bugarach.
December 15th 2012
Cold. Pale thin fog baffles the contours of the hillsides, and those of the distant castle at Coustassa. Glimmering frost bristles the short maquis grass beneath our feet. A watered lemony sun high above us attempts to burn winter away, and eventually does so.
That’s when we have our first view of Bugarach – shown in the featured photo – the imposing thick-set mountain which dominates this part of the Aude, because it stands alone, rather than as part of a range, and today is pretty much thatched in snow.
Bugarach has been in the news for a while. Here’s BBC’s ‘From our Own correspondent’ back in July 2011:
‘According to an ancient Mayan calendar, at some point towards the end of 2012, the world will come to an end.
It is not clear how that will happen, but apparently humanity does not stand a chance – except for those who seek shelter in the area surrounding Bugarach.
Just 200 people live there all year round, but doomsday believers and spiritual groups are convinced the village has magical powers, thanks to the local mountain – the Pic de Bugarach.
For years, rumours have circulated on the internet that extra-terrestrials live in the mountain, and come the apocalypse, the top will open and they will emerge with spaceships, and rescue the local inhabitants.’
Although it’s quite hard to entertain the idea that the mountain might have some sort of underground UFO car park, there are plenty of people who have done so, and with great fervour. Here’s today’s Daily Mail, which has been talking to Jean-Pierre Delord, Mayor of the tiny village of Bugarach (pop. 176).
‘On Wednesday, he will close the village for five days to anyone who doesn’t live here or isn’t already booked to stay, and draft in hundreds of police, military, firemen and Red Cross to ban any gatherings, shut off the mountain and arrest anyone silly enough to try flying over it.
‘What if tens of thousands of people turn up?’ he says, throwing his arms up in the air. ‘I have no way of knowing what will happen. I have no crystal ball! I don’t care if people want to chant naked or talk to the trees, but I have to protect my villagers. I am responsible for them.’’
He’s not over-reacting. Local house-owners have been able to rent out their homes for the period in question for astronomical prices, and even camping spots are going for 400 euros a night. For most locals though, the whole thing is at best a nuisance, at worst a real headache. The nearer we get to December 21st, the more people descend on the area, and the police and army are already involved in keeping order.
We enjoyed our views of Bugarach, as ever. We spent time pretending to look for UFOs and generally mocking the New-Agers who are so convinced by the end of the world as we know it. Then we got on with the business of enjoying our walk in the here-and-now. Here are a couple of photos showing what else we saw that day
Update: December 14th, 2024. As you see, we’re still here. And so are you.
For Debbie’s Six Word Saturday
Come back on Monday to stroll with me round the deer park at Studley Royal late one glorious autumn afernoon.
For Debbie’s Six Word Saturday.
One of our last days in Shropshire saw us pop into Wales, to Powis Castle and its gardens. The castle itself was built largely in the mid thirteenth century, and modified, restyled and redecorated many times since until as recently as the 1950s. Photography was not allowed, but as we found it a somewhat gloomy place, we were happy to focus on the gardens.
These are magnificently planted steep terraces, largely in the 17th century Italian style. There are large, rather formidable yew hedges. There is statuary. You’ll find a formal Edwardian garden with century-old apple trees, a walled garden, and beyond, carefully managed woodland inviting visitors to enjoy a gentle stroll while peeping through the trees at the landscape in one direction, the castle and gardens in the other. And peacocks and peahens, with their youngsters in tow. Here’s a small collection of postcards.
Don’t ask me about that giant foot, found in the woods. Haven’t a clue, and nobody would help me out.
My last few Shropshire Postcards: for Six Word Saturday.
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
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