It's been quite warm but overcast today, mostly spent indoors, with a sermon to write and tomorrow's adult Confirmation class to prepare. Early evening I walked to Playa La Malagueta and was amazed to see huge waves breaking on the shore, as the tide was going out. There was no wind. Off shore I counted ten people in wetsuits attempting to surf the waves, a lots more on-shore watching or trying like me to take photos. They were rather far out attempting to catch a big breaker, and the light was not quite adequate for good action shots, but it was good to witness nevertheless. Almost all the sun worshippers had already left. There was, however a large oldish man lying on the foreshore, reading and eating a snack, oblivious to how close he was to being covered by incoming waves. He seemed to leave it to the last minute to move to drier ground. So strange. was he drunk, or crazy or what?
From there, I walked across the port and into the Old Town, drawn through the streets to the Plaza de la Merced by the sound of a heavy rock band in the open air. A stage was set up and several stalls had been set up around one corner of the square. One was a booking office for Firm Festival Tickets but the rest were part of an espacio solidaire de mujeres. promoting organisations concerned with protecting women and children from domestic violence and exploitation. The band was performing in support of this. I stood to take photos near the statue of Pablo Picasso seated on a bench. He was born in a house nearby. It's often surrounded by people who want photos taken featuring this lifelike work of art. For a few moments it was clear enough of people for me to get the urge to take a photo. As I was getting the camera out, a burly man stepped forward, caught hold of the statue's head and planted an affectionate kiss on its forehead. That was a surprise. Just sorry I missed a great photo opportunity.
I walked on towards the Plaza Cevantes, to find it cordoned off by the Policia Locale, attempting to control of crowd on cinema fans and celebrity watchers thronging the periphery to watch the arrivals for a gala night film performance at Teatro Cervantes. The telly people were there, projecting key scenes on to a large public screen on the forecourt above the huge red carpet leading to the entrance. No doubt it was a special moment for anyone who knew who's who, but hardly so for me. I didn't need an excuse to head for the apartment as hunger reminded me that supper time was near.
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