I didn't sleep nearly as long as I feel I need to, but felt refreshed and ready for the day. Before getting up I prepared a few sentences in Spanish introducing myself and my linguistic learning journey, using Google Translate, for Veronica's U3A Spanish group for English learners, meeting mid morning for a drink in their regular haunt, a cafe overlooking Platja de Riells with its long sandy crescent of a beach and promenade. Individuals in the group were asked to describe an individual object in ten simple sentences for other to identify and name it in Spanish. There were more than an dozen of us. I simply couldn't think of an object, and as a bird of passage thought it would be better to prepare something I could read as well as possible to see if my pronunciation was good enough for other to understand. One way or another it was a fun session with interventions from Veronica about the vocabulary and pronunciation. After the session we went for a long slow walk along the promenade before returning for a visit to Mercadona for food shopping.
Rebecca, Veronica's daughter came over, riding her snazzy two stroke engined scooter, to join us during her lunch/siesta period when the shop she works in shuts for the afternoon. Veronica had started to prepare a Catalan dish of vegetables and beans stewed in a veggie stock with added rice, Rebecca took over the cooking freeing us to chat, switching naturally between English and Spanish, as might happen in any bi-lingual family. It was very good to meet her, the youngest of her children.
After Rebecca returned to work, we went over to the campsite, tucked in woodland behind Platja de Riells on the edge of a small freshwater lake. Here we met Jordi, Veronica's elder son who with his partner Rosa runs a chirunguito on the campsite by day and works as a security guard at the nearby marina by night. We stayed long enough for a coffee and ice cream, then drove out to a neighbouring town called Toroella de Montgri to refill the car's LPG gas tank. It's a dual fuel vehicle with a 1000km range. On our way back we visited the rocky headland of Montgó south side of L'Escala, with its 16th century Martello watchtower from which pirate warnings by beacon fires could be sent across the Golfo de Roses in both directions.
Set in the side of the cliff just below the headland are several concrete bunkers and gun empacements dating from Civil War times. I went down a steep narrow path hundred metres and took a few photos of the top of one such installation. There's the rusting iron remains on top of the highest bunker of what had once been a signalling mast with loops for attaching coded flags, visible to passing ships. An unusual remnant of coastal warfare ninety years ago.
We then returned and I uploaded my photos of the day. Then we had a giant mixed salad for supper, with fruit bread and a few glasses of vino tinto de Montsant DO, a Catalan Garntaxa/Garnacha. I walked alons the main road to the Anchovy and Salt museum for some late night fresh air and exercise to complete a day of mild air, blue sky and sunshine, in marked contrast to yesterday. Veronica told me that in the light of a resurgence of social, linguistic and political interest in the distinct identity of Catalunya, La Escala may now be written in the Catalan way L'Escala. It's a small detail compared to what happened about bi-lingual signage in Wales half a century ago, but a welcome element of respect for differences.
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