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.

Valencia II

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.

Sant Jordi

On almost every street corner there were stands selling roses today. Legend tells that after he killed the dragon, Sant Jordi gave his damsel a rose, which had turned a deep red colour because of the ground soaking up the dragon's blood.

Smart cookies

Telling my group of twelve year old students that I was "not in the mood" for silliness backfired. The students had come bursting into the classroom, noisy and fractious and chomping on chocolate biscuits. "Well," said one of them, "I'm not in the mood for English!" The rest of the group caught on and before I knew it all five of them had their arms crossed and eyebrows raised - mirroring me. I had to laugh. So did they, after that.

Pictures II

The monkey in London

Pictures I

Last night the metro was still busy at 11pm. Among the passengers was a guy about my age, who unlike the rest of us, looked bright and awake. He had a big camera slung round his neck and seemed to be taking close ups of things around the carriage. I noticed him pointing the lens towards my feet and heard the click of the shutter. I glanced up at him with a questioning sort of smile and he smiled back and leant straight across to show me the result - my battered trainers and the wheel of someone's pushbike.

Barcelona was sunny today, the light was clear and the air was warm. I felt like taking pictures too, but had to rush from one class to another and once I'd finished it was dusk.

I did take one important picture this week though - of a hand puppet known as Mr Monkey. He makes appearances in my class of six year olds sometimes, and this Easter he's going to travel to England with me. I took a snap of him on his first leg of the journey and showed it too the children, who found it very funny.