Carrión de los Condes

Christ surrounded by the symbols of the Evangelists

Carrión de los Condes is a small town with two fascinating churches and a monastery.  There is not much more activity there now than there must have been in the times of El Cid.  The Condes, or Counts, of Carrión were two cowardly rascals who ran away from El Cid's pet lion, one of them hiding himself in the toilet chute.  Imagine a medieval castle's water closet and you get the idea!

Against his better judgement the hero married his daughters to these two ne'erdowells.  On the journey back to Castilla they stripped the girls, tied them to trees and whipped them, saying that they were not noble enough to be married to real counts.  Of course they got their comeuppance, which you can read about in the Romance del Mío Cid.  I have the version in Menéndez Pidal's Flor Nueva de Romances Viejos.  If you want an English version, you could try this one:  The Lay of the Cid, but I haven't read it and can't say if it's any good.

Archivolt Carvings Church of Santiago- two fighting knights

The Church of Santa María is slightly older than the Church of Santiago, but the main doorway of the latter is fascinating, with archivolts showing a range of figures, including dancing acrobats, a grieving woman and fighting knights.  I hope you can make them out from my picture.

This is Romanesque art.  Carrión is on the Camino de Santiago which is one of the best places in Europe to study this early medieval artistic style.  And walking along under a perfect blue sky across the rolling flat and empty plains of Castille, you can almost feel the pounding of horses' hooves in the distance and sense the imminent arrival of El Cid on his batte charger!

Parsnips: the Taste of Winter

The parsnips grew beautifully this year.  They thrust down their milky fingers deep into the soil and seemed to grasp hold of the earth.  More than one broke as I was digging them out earlier this month and they were so juicy that the sap immediately gathered in beads on the open end.

Now we are eating them.  To sweeten a soup they are divine; roasted with potatoes and pumpkin (also from the garden) they are excellent; but boiled and mashed to purée we cannot have them.  Carmen has discovered they make her 'repeat'.  It's a shame: mashed parsnips with a sprinkle of black pepper are a real wintry taste.

We used a whole bed to plant parsnips because you cannot buy them in Spain.  What is more, if you go into a shop and ask for 'chirivías', the Spanish word for parnsips, the shop assistant will more than likely look at you as though you are asking for jellied wombat.

There is no getting away from growing your own, then.  And I have learnt a lesson for next year: add a little sand into the clayey soil, to make the harvesting a little easier!

The Pedant's Apostrophe

Street signs have been the theme of the week for me.  Last night I snapped a picture of the sign that you can see here.  That simple misplaced apostrophe does not lose its power to irritate me even when it is a humble Asturian shopkeeper who has no business knowing how to place it correctly in the first place.

There is a famous Spanish knicker shop called Women'Secret in Gijón.  (It is on Calle Menéndez Valdéz, which I think of as Calle de las Bragas for the number of lingerie stores there.)  Every time I walked to work last year that sign with the misplaced apostrophe offended my pedant's eye.  What is wrong with writing Women's Secret?  If Toys R Us is a rock you stub your pedantic toe on, Women'Secret is an irritating grain of sand that gets stuck in your eye.

I should not complain.  It is also amusing to stand in the street taking photographs of shop signs.  People walk past and look at you as if you are completely crazy, especially when it is raining and dark.  It is one thing to look a little crazy and quite another to look like a pervert, however, and that is why there is no picture of Women'Secret here.

Here are two more street signs in English to enjoy.

Travelling: you really have to say it with a Spanish accent- the -ll- makes a -ly- sound and the accent then goes on the second syllable.  It comes out as travEying.

Shoespiel combines shoes- pronounced show-es in Spanish- and piel, which means skin.  So these are skin shoes, leather shoes.  At first I thought it might be Shoe Spiel with that hint of Yiddish telling you they really know their shoespeak here!

San Pancracio

St Pancras

This is Saint Pancras, whom we are all familiar with due to the station in London.  He is found all over Spain in shops, bars and small businesses because he is the patron saint of work.

The historical Saint Pancras was martyred by Diocletian in the year 304 at the innocent age of fourteen and for this reason he became an exemplary saint for young people.  His young faith as a convert was strong enough to take him to martyrdom.  Sometimes he is shown in armour to signify that he was a soldier of Christ but he had no relation with the Roman army.

In his left hand you can see a book that says, "VENTE AD ME ET EGO DABO VOBIS OMNIA BOM" which should be "Venite ad me....omnia bonum"- Come to me and I will give you all good things.  Behind the book is his martyrs palm.

Superstition says that you must be given a statue of St Pancras and he should be decked with parsley to bring you luck in your work and with money.  Some people say that he should face into the building to bring the money in and, for that reason, you only see his back.  This is similar to the superstition of the Chinese frog and doesn't seem to have much history to it.

Sit & Go

There is something charming and innocent about European English.  I imagine this little bar in Avilés was christened with its unfortunate name to suggest comfort and action.  What more natural then than to combine the two concepts in one handy phrase: Sit & Go?

When I peered in the window there were classy little tables and fake leather seats.  I was rather disappointed not to find a row of lavatories where you really could Sit & Go in comfort.

Look at my website: www.writingfingertranslation.com for the good use of English

And if you want to read Spanish poetry in English my blog is just the thing: http://menemenetekel.wordpress.com/

Painting in the Rain

It may seem that I have been quiet, but I have been painting in the rain.

Asturias is famous for its rain.  In the mountains the clouds don't just scoot along overhead at a friendly distance. Descending into Belmonte you can see the whisps of the cloud blanket below you wafting across the shanks of the hill on the opposite side of the valley.  When you descend into the murk you have a vivid sense of being surrounded by moisture.

What kind of an idiot would go out painting in these conditions?

I sit under an oak tree and the wind makes the heavier drops fall on my head.  There is a light drizzle which is not enough to deter me from getting my paints and brushes out because I know it never rains all the time and when the sun breaks through the clouds and hits the chestnut leaves in the thicket in front of me it will be a spectacle.

I cannot capture these moments but I want to witness them.  Painting outside is more than just the product.  It is a meditation that you do outside in the face of the world, with the wind on your face, acorns falling on your head and your rain clothes getting muddy.  It is discomfort.  It is being alive.

Niemeyer Redux

I was walking through the Ferreira park in Avilés thinking about the Niemeyer when it struck me that the idea for his building is in direct homage to the library- an indifferent building in the centre.  Here you can see the sign pointing to the library and the poster on the door that tells you the place is closed- pretty much indefinitely it seems, whilst they refit it with new shelves.

It really doesn't need much comment: look at the photos.  It seems clear to me that the curve is directly taken from the earlier building, even though that building is not of any great quality!

The Library and Cultural Centre