Friday, 1 October 2010
Some beautiful things
1. The flat has felt oppressive lately. One of the reasons being that the couple have a friend staying, and rather than take him out to see some of Barcelona, they seem to favour staying at home, watching TV and playing computer games. Their guest is a policeman from Segovia who has a sugar addiction and spends much of the time wearing a tight vest. I feel like I'm living in student accommodation again, between the piled up pizza boxes and endless hours of television. Today I realised it was getting to me so grabbed my bag and left earlier than I needed to. The light and space of the street was such a relief. I walked down towards the metro station and felt myself relax.
2. Paying a compliment to a friend, who instead of her normal black/grey/brown was wearing a pretty blue top. She brushed it off, but I could tell she was pleased.
3. Lunch in a Japanese restaurant - four deceptively delicate-looking courses served in quick succession leave us not only full, but aesthetically satisfied. Each dish was tidy and colourful.
Thursday, 29 July 2010
In focus
A scene from the "Patum" festival, Berga.
School playgroud
Fruit&veg stall in the Boqueria market
These photos were taken on an ordinary digital camera and manipulated online using the "tilt shift" method. Try it! tiltshiftmaker.com
Monday, 26 July 2010
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
My 3BT 26th June 2010
1. A scorching afternoon and a teenage girl leads her stooped grandmother to the bus stop. While the old lady sits in the shade, her granddaughter paces, plays with her hair and generally looks a bit sulky. They wonder when the bus is coming. The old lady stands up slowly and strains to look for signs of the bus coming up the hill. Maybe the girl is struck suddenly by how frail her grandmother is, because she softens and bends towards her, wrapping her arms around her. The grandmother pats the girl's back gently and makes soothing noises, so sweet that my eyes fill with tears.
2. A ripe mango, eaten over the sink because it is so juicy. Talking of grandmothers, mangos remind me of my own abuela, who was not brought up in the UK. I remember her telling me that as small children, her and her siblings used to eat mangos sitting in the bath because of the juice issue.
3. Sitting on a friend's roof terrace until 2 in the morning, under a full moon so bright it casts blue-ish shadows around us.
2. A ripe mango, eaten over the sink because it is so juicy. Talking of grandmothers, mangos remind me of my own abuela, who was not brought up in the UK. I remember her telling me that as small children, her and her siblings used to eat mangos sitting in the bath because of the juice issue.
3. Sitting on a friend's roof terrace until 2 in the morning, under a full moon so bright it casts blue-ish shadows around us.
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Swallows
Swallows are suddenly everywhere. I started to notice them a couple of weeks ago, when the weather began to settle.
Part of the reason why I like them so much is because they seem to appear during that beautiful part of the early evening when the sun is no longer overhead, but dropping, just reflected in windows. The heat of the day has gone and there is more bustle in the streets. The skies reflect the bustle, suddenly filling with lots of these dark, darting little shapes.
Never saw myself as a twitcher, and I'm not, really. I don't know the first thing about the habits of swallows, what they eat, when they breed or their migration patterns. I'm just pleased they're here. I feel a lift when I hear them, the sound bouncing off buildings and echoing through little squares. There's something mediterrenean about it which seems to fit this setting.
I even like the word for them in Spanish - "golondrina". Four juicy syllables which simultaneously make me think of sweets (another word in Spanish which sounds similar is 'golosina', meaning a chewy sweet) and gondolier.
By 9.30 it's almost dark - I go out onto the balcony and look up but they've all gone.
Part of the reason why I like them so much is because they seem to appear during that beautiful part of the early evening when the sun is no longer overhead, but dropping, just reflected in windows. The heat of the day has gone and there is more bustle in the streets. The skies reflect the bustle, suddenly filling with lots of these dark, darting little shapes.
Never saw myself as a twitcher, and I'm not, really. I don't know the first thing about the habits of swallows, what they eat, when they breed or their migration patterns. I'm just pleased they're here. I feel a lift when I hear them, the sound bouncing off buildings and echoing through little squares. There's something mediterrenean about it which seems to fit this setting.
I even like the word for them in Spanish - "golondrina". Four juicy syllables which simultaneously make me think of sweets (another word in Spanish which sounds similar is 'golosina', meaning a chewy sweet) and gondolier.
By 9.30 it's almost dark - I go out onto the balcony and look up but they've all gone.
Thursday, 6 May 2010
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Valencia I
We meet at Sants station and as soon as we've had our tickets checked we are ushered into an incredibly tranquil waiting area. I can't help comparing it to a London train station at 7pm on a Friday evening. "Not exactly like Kings Cross, is it?" says B, echoing my thoughts.
The train rolls out of the station and after a few minutes we're free of the city and following the coast towards the south. "Right, fancy a G&T?" Music to my ears after a long week.
Despite my blocked nose and the paper-thin walls of the hostel I sleep well and we get going early. After wandering about in the city, speaking to several policemen and bus drivers, we find the bus stop we're looking for and head out to a freshwater lagoon, and the promise of a boatride and a good paella.
In the evening it rains, but only for an hour. We emerge just as the light is disappearing and the streets are beginning to fill up. Two little dogs wait for their owner on the step of bar, and a few streets away we chat to a whole crowd of dancers in traditional costume, who don't need any persuading to pose for a photo.
The train rolls out of the station and after a few minutes we're free of the city and following the coast towards the south. "Right, fancy a G&T?" Music to my ears after a long week.
Despite my blocked nose and the paper-thin walls of the hostel I sleep well and we get going early. After wandering about in the city, speaking to several policemen and bus drivers, we find the bus stop we're looking for and head out to a freshwater lagoon, and the promise of a boatride and a good paella.
In the evening it rains, but only for an hour. We emerge just as the light is disappearing and the streets are beginning to fill up. Two little dogs wait for their owner on the step of bar, and a few streets away we chat to a whole crowd of dancers in traditional costume, who don't need any persuading to pose for a photo.
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