Inspired observations gained from my travels, matched to a music track and made into a quirky blog from a recalcitrant Lancastrian.
recalcitrant
rɪˈkalsɪtr(ə)nt/
adjective
1.
having an obstinately uncooperative attitude towards authority or discipline.
noun
1.
a person with a recalcitrant attitude.
"a stiff-necked recalcitrant and troublemaker"
☯️
Start with what is right rather than what is acceptable.
Franz Kafka.
Next trip coming soon….
With a bit of Renfe high-speed technology we blasted south in the morning into Valencia and then out the other side on a slower regional train. We are heading for a retreat in the hills, in the ‘Solana de Benecadell’ National Park, swopping the beach for a pool.
Most people use Google maps to get around and find places to go and locate restaurants etc. I am no exception for enjoying a browse to see what other likeminded travellers have written. Just recently, I came across the very best review I have ever read in my entire life. It has to be my favourite and in the words of the song “ will be a favourite for a long time”.
It was for a local kebab shop and the post was simply this “He venido media hora antes de cuando indicaba que estaba abierto y estaba cerrado!”
If you don’t speak Spanish then you will have to use Google translate but I can almost guarantee it will be worth it!
‘Favourite’ just happens to also be a favourite track of mine by them Dublin boys, the ‘Fontaines D.C., here doing a live version for Jools Holland.
I have a penchant for a tasty, unique digestivo and also enjoy seeking out local culture and customs and up and down these twisty little streets they have places called Vermutarias.
Vermut, historically, is big around here and is a variation of Italian Vermouth, it also comes in 2 colours, Blanco & Rojo and made the same with herby botanical ingredients, perfect to aid digestion.
Most recipes of these sorts of digestivo’s remain secret, all slightly different which makes exploring the experience a must.
Some say you drink this before lunch as an aperitif, others say afternoon is better?
It’s refrigerated and served with ice, often with a slice of lemon and with a couple of salty olives floating around. Sometimes you get a soda siphon to play around with but most times it’s just enjoyed neat.
There is another connection with French ‘Chartreuse’ but this will take further research…
In the meantime, enjoy some of the funky Say She She girls with a video featuring my old ‘Silver Shadow’!
I have received a complaint today regarding my blog, not about the content (surprisingly) but about not being notified of posts. I have rectified this by adding a ‘widget’ on the right, that will enable the reader to subscribe and thus allow notification as I update my blog. I sincerely hope this prompt action will put an end to any further complaints!
I can understand why the old Romans came here for their holidays, to enjoy the nice soft sand, clear water and plenty of spacious chariot parking adjacent to the beach.
XIII minutes up the coast was Platja Arrabassado, a smaller quieter beach where the clear, shallow waters were ideal for a morning swim.
Unfortunately, by the time it was time to head for the shore it was impossible to see where I left my towel and it now resembled an SAS assault course to get back..but hey, I’m a big man, and up for a challenge!
I took in a deep breath, mainly to suck in my belly, and went for it…
With thick traces of Cillit Bang suncream smarting my eyes, I burst out of the shallows, while being pelted by plastic balls, I dodged past the little tight-shorted, spindly runners to the right and nimbly ducked under the first of many sun brollies. After belting a kids beach ball skyward, I launched into a long jump over a towel and landed awkwardly, immediately twisting my ankle on an impressively deep sand castle moat. I could hear the disappointed child wail behind me as I swung round a second parasol with an explosion of sand flying off my feet. Commando style, I slithered under a windbreak and then plunged headlong onto a very large, startled naked German pensioner applying factor fifty liberally to her decaying bits. Diving promptly left, I rolled under a stripey awning, vaulted a vacant deckchair and sportingly kicked and converted a yellow bucket and spade high over a twins pushchair to take the additional 2 points! From here, I could see my goal and slowed my limbs to a lurch, only to speed up again rapidly, as the hot sand started to burn the soles of my feet. I found myself hot stepping like an out of control gecko, so fast, I erratically I put a foot in a woman’s open plastic box of tuna salad and then hopped uncontrollably to the end, knocking over 2 more toddlers and half a jug of Sangria before I arrived at my sand blasted towel.
Beach time over, it was time to reflect from an elevated position with a cold glass of wine…hats off to the rooftop bar o’th’imperial for providing the shade, relaxation and genorous th’ospitality!
I’m a big man featuring both ‘Self Esteem’ and the crazy blue wigged wonderful ‘Moonchild Sanelly’ delivered with typical irony in a must watch video…
Further down the Mediterranean coast you come to Tarragona.
A typical Spanish seaside beach town where the Romans used to come on holiday every Augustus.
You can tell this by all the unfinished stone tat that they have left behind. Old rundown towers with broken steps, half built ancient ruins, archaeological forums and even half an amphitheater, full of blatant trip hazards and a health and safety nightmare in my opinion!
Our place is just off a quaint little square with a view of a bloke with a pigeon on his head…
‘Made of Stone’ was an iconic indie banger back in the day by them moody ‘Stone Roses’.
When the blistering August sun is high in the sky and the ice cold water drips off the wine cooler on to your bony toes below, under the shaded table loaded with fine locally sourced Cava, then you know it’s a sign to take the afternoon slowly:Despacito
From time to time, quietly wallowing in the infinity pool, sloshing about majestically as vast quantities of water occasionally dissipate over the lip of the horizon…
Returning only to the pack to graze elegantly on sumptuous, rustic offerings while switching off from reality…
Our magnificent tanned hide sinks gracefully into a waiting deckchair…awaiting the sunset.
“Only mad frogs and Englishmen would go out in the noonday sun…”
Today’s choice of tune is sadly Espania’s most streamed song apparently?
I’m sure 80 year old Julio Englasiass would have something to say about that as he’s been a popular pub singer in the hit parade ever since Franco was in charge!
Taking the Renfe R4 train line took us out of the metropolis for €6.10 and into the more accustomed rural wine region of ‘Penedes’. This area, notable for the production of an impressive 95% of Spain’s Cava, meant that the obvious thing to do was to stay in the middle of a vineyard. Magnus & Marta had the very place.
The DO (Denominación de Origen) for a wine is its identity, and the grapes used to make this amber nectar need to come from said place. They also need to be of good quality so that’s where I step in…Maccabeo grapes🍇. Obviously named after the great wine aficionado, ‘Garybaldi ‘of Aldi’ Maccabeo’, founder of said grape and knowledge of all things vino, a pioneer, troubadour fashionista and swashbuckling debutante around these parts.
Not wanting to blow my own trumpet (PARP!) but Iv found my roots and they ain’t courgette, do u know wot I’m sayin’?
“I’m like Chardonnay, get better over time,
Heard you say I’m not the baddest bitch, you lie”
As the afternoon sun came over the yard-arm, it was time to lather up the Cillit Bang 💥 and enjoy a glass of bubbles by the pool.
Today’s accompaniment comes from US hip-hop rapper and good time gal ‘Lizzo’ with unlimited positivity and boundless energy, you can’t help having a smile and a jig to this…
