Wednesday 25 December 2013

Felipe Sanclemente y Romeu

In the centre of Zaragoza, just a few years ago they put up a bust of one of the heroes of the first siege of Zaragoza, Felipe Sanclemente y Romeu. Born in Barbastro in 1758, died in Zaragoza in 1815.
He was 50 when he lost his sons to the French onslaught. He used his personal wealth to provide for the defenders, but also took part in the fight, falling wounded.

After the French were turned out by the Spanish in 1813, he was able to return to Zaragoza from Cádiz, where he had fled, being crippled and unable to fight. He was honoured by the city he had given everything to defend.

Monday 2 December 2013

Zaragoza

On Saturday we went on a guided tour of Rennaissance buildings in Zaragoza. Here are some things I took photos of along the way.

La Lonja

La Seo

My favourite, Mudejar wall, la Seo

El Arco del Dean

Group

Sunday 24 November 2013

In the valley

Yesterday we went to Huesca to see some friends. It was dry and windy. You could see the snow on the nearby Sierra de Guara, but not in Huesca itself; it is only November after all!
After dinner we went for a long blowy walk from the city, under the motorway to the chapel of Loreto, dedicated to the parents of St Lawrence, the local saint who was a deacon in Rome, executed by a vindictive prefect, roasted on a griddle....in the 3rd century. The parents were called Orencio and Paciencia, apparently. Saints, of course.
Well anyway, the chapel isn't very exciting on the outside, but it was a lovely walk, and just after we started back towards Huesca we saw these olives.

Just turning from olive green towards black, they were beautiful!
I'm not a great eater of olives, but in my house only Aragonese olives are eaten, usually bitter, black wrinkly ones. 


Friday 22 November 2013

Snow

It snowed last night and when we woke up there was snow everywhere.

The red deer in the dry moat of the  ciudadela were being fed.







Sunday 10 November 2013

And now France

Yesterday we went on a short trip to Oloron Sainte-Marie. It takes a bit more than an hour on excellent Spanish roads, a brilliant 8.606km tunnel and really poor French roads through the picturesque steep Aspe valley. The autumn colours on the northern (French) side were really spectacular. It was a beautiful day.
A relaxing café au lait on a sunny terrace and a steep walk to the eglise de Sainte Croix, kindly left open so we could see its painted Romanesque inside.
Sainte-Croix is at the end of the street
Then a trip to the hypermarché to buy French things. (wine, cheese, canard) Lidl was interesting. There were some products which they don't sell in Spanish Lidl, such as blueberry jam, but generally the same stuff. We spent more time in the big Leclerc opposite. Something you really don't want to buy in France is petrol, which is about 13 cents more than in the province of Huesca; admittedly it's supposed to be one of the cheapest in Spain for petrol.
Homewards  towards the mountains now starting to look white past the bracken-covered hills and the lovely slopes of trees.


Roman Zaragoza

I forgot about this one: from the Plaza del Pilar
I really liked the Roman poster on the pillar.

Saturday 2 November 2013

Ordesa:full

Yesterday, the first of November was a holiday. We decided to go to the national park of Ordesa to see the autumn colours.
In the summer you can't drive into Ordesa. You have to leave the car in a big car park in the village of Torla and take a bus. Not in the autumn, however. We arrived at the big car park in Ordesa and we must have got the last space. It was crammed! Hundreds of people had thought the same as us. I hope it wasn't for the peace of the country, because it wasn't at all peaceful.
It was beautiful though. A little bit late for the best of the autumn leaves, but there were some lovely contrasts of colours; beeches, silver birches, poplars and pines.











We went for a nice walk along the track, talking, enjoying the views and taking a few photos. Then we drove back dow to Torla, passing the barrier; we must have been among the last cars allowed up befor they put up the FULL sign. 

In Torla we had a nice traditional meal of migas (fried breadcrumbs) and lamb chops washed down with red Somontano wine.

Wednesday 23 October 2013

Autumn in Jaca

A ride on my bike to the other side of town, Llanos de la Victoria.














Monday 21 October 2013

MUSHROOM CROWDS

I wrote this years ago and never published it.                                          
                                           

The Spanish take their festivals very seriously; none more so than the Aragonese. Their

autumn holiday dedicated to the little statue of the Virgin Mary on a pillar is when the

city of Zaragoza really is seen at its best. Giants parade the streets: every village or town

in Spain has some of these  three metre tall human frames made of papier maché. They

are carried by strong men hidden in the long robes or skirts of the kings and queens.

Common they may be, but little children still stare and gasp. Their more comic

counterparts, the “cabezudos” (bigheads) run amok, chasing and throwing sweets.  

There are funfairs, circuses with lions and tigers. Folk groups come from all over the

region. They have been practising for weeks, with the heavy thumps of dance steps on

board floors and the wailing voices of singers sounding far later into the night than

usual.

The “Offering” to the diminutive “Virgin of the Pillar” is central to the festival. She is

brought out of her basilica into the square to receive the floral tribute. Thousands of

devotees fill the streets of the city centre. There is a pervading smell of mothballs,

because for this special day only,  many people wear regional costumes.

They take their folk-finery out of storage and wear it to take part in laying the great

pyramid of flowers before the city’s patroness. Men tie the emblematic red or purple

“cachirulo” round their brows. They wear knee-breeches and wide sashes. Women and

girls are more colourful in full skirts and bright silk-fringed shawls. If the sun shines, it

is all very pretty, looking like a painting by Goya at his most bucolic. It is also very

crowded. Our neighbour, Fermín, tells me that he was literally carried along by the

crowds once; swept bodily into the basilica square.

This kind of festivity, however, is not to everyone’s taste. If you do not feel inclined to

dress up and push, there is an alternative; one which is just as traditional. In the days

before the holiday, people ask:

                                      “Are you going down to Zaragoza, or the country?”

This year we opted for the latter, as many others do. Luckily, Aragón has enough space

to spread out in. We drove to the beautiful valley of Zuriza. Our object was to see the

autumn colours. Zuriza has slopes of mixed forest, going down to a winding river. In

the open spaces cattle grazed: bulls, cows, and calves which looked almost new-born.

They took no notice of us. Here and there, a car or van stood by the trackside. Near one

of these I looked up the slope of the hill and saw a man. He had a big knife in his hand,

which he hid when he noticed us. It seemed rather sinister until we realised:

                                        “He’s hunting for mushrooms!”

In this part of the country, collecting fungi is popular. The locals say that outsiders,

usually from neighbouring Catalonia, come and fill vans with these wild delicacies. You

can sense the resentment towards the wealthier “forasteros”, who take what nature gives

freely, and sell it in their marketplaces. Many villages have what has to be translated as

a “municipal toadstool patch”, where the mushrooms are protected for the residents to

pick, having paid for a licence. Later, we saw a woman with a basket of golden fungi

poised on her hip, but we were told that the weather had not been ideal. The best harvest

may be yet to come.

Some neighbours, nature lovers and intrepid mushroom gatherers, only managed to

find one small basketful. Some dubious specimens had to be left behind. There is a

centre in our Pyrenean town of Jaca, where you can take your finds to be identified by

experts. Some people do not bother. Fermín told me of a family he knew who had made

a mistake, and needed stomach- pumps all round. He added: “I know all the different

species. I won’t touch any of them!”

The children found a patch of tall, white domes close to our house. I don’t know a thing

about edible fungi.

                              “Treasure!” said Francisco, identifying them as “Coprinus comatus”.

                               “All for you!” I replied. He cut half a dozen and came back for more

the next day. Seeing that my neighbours were still alive, I cut the last one, fried and ate

it before I could change my mind. It tasted pretty good, almost good enough to make it

worth going to the country to search for them.

Personally, I would rather use my autumn holiday, not in the city crowds, nor with my

eyes on the ground  looking for the toadstool harvest, but looking up at the red and gold

trees on the hillsides, and the red kites and griffin vultures soaring overhead.  

                                          


Thursday 10 October 2013

Web


A dewy autumn morning in Ringmer

Garden centre

One of the things I like doing when I go to England is to visit garden centres; not so easy to do here. Last week, in Paradise Park near Newhaven, I found this big garden ornament.

England

I've just come back from a week in Ringmer, near Lewes in East Sussex. I've been going to Lewes for many years now and I supposed I knew it pretty well. However, on this occasion I was really surprised by Lewes Priory Park.
Before the dismantlement of the monasteries by Henry VIII and his crew, Lewes was one of the wealthiest in the country. When the Victorians were putting the railways in they dynamited the ruins that were in their way. It's surprising that there's anything at all. For many years there was a "keep out, danger" sign on the walls. Now there is a park with ruins in it and informative signs to suggest what it might have been like.





I'm amazed at how photos taken with my phone come out!

Monday 23 September 2013

Flowers

Oloron Sainte Marie is only about an hour away from Jaca. They're good at flowers. Here's a footbridge: