The Boy and The Coconut Tree

I had dinner last night at a restaurant/café near to where I am staying in the centre of Barcelona, on Gran Via de Catalanes. I sat outside to watch the world go by as the restaurant was close to Urgull metro. Dinner was not worth mentioning, a bog standard fixed price menu, 11 euros; I don’t recall what I had. I do remember the events and sights around me though. To my right sat an older English couple who had ordered a lot of food, enough Paella for 4 people and various other things. They ate for a while, I heard raised voice in, what I think was, a Birmingham accent then the woman wandered off in a bad mood, I presume to her hotel but she seemed unsure. The man continued to eat and looked more relaxed than he had before the argument. The restaurant was getting busier and by 930pm all the tables on the terrace were full. Now they call it a terrace but really it is the pavement with some chairs and tables, terrace is far too grand a word for the reality of sitting a metre away

I began writing about Catalonia   in June 2013 when I first arrived and have met many Catalans since then, people from both sides of the political spectrum and what I am sensing now, 10 months later, is an increasing sense of frustration, anger and possibly worse.   One thing I have learned from my many travels is never to get involved in the politics or political debate of the country that happens to be my host at that time. Australian politics never interested me, it is democracy, it works, and the political debate is rough and ready and similar to the politics of my home country. The USA was more complex and there always seemed to be more division and anger between opposing sides. If I said the wrong thing, or liked the wrong president then I could be ostracized as happened at a cocktail party in Boston in 2000 when I commented on how good Clinton had been and how GW Bush made me shudder. I am sure historians will back me up one day. In Vietnam, political debate or criticis

I’ve been in Barcelona 1 week now and I am feeling less like a tourist and more like a local although I am trying to speak Spanish not Catalan. My Spanish is progressing slowly but not too badly for someone who has not had lessons. I speak it every day and learn new words every day. My first week has gone well; 8 students and I’ve given 3 lessons this week and will probably give 7 next week with another student starting in July and 2 in September. This is certainly better than I had expected. Not only have the students of Barcelona embraced me but so have the locals I’ve met. I’ve had lunch with friends of friends, sisters of friends, aunts of friends etc. It has been lovely though I’ve eaten out more this week than I normally did in a month, thank god it is cheaper here to eat, the average cost per person has been 15 euros and it has been good. Typical meal of Tapas for 2 Friday I ventured out of the city to accompany a friend to S’Agaro on the Costa Brava, we check on

The fog lifted as the train pulled into London. I could see all I needed to see. And I then knew all I needed to know. Last weekend was Memorial Day in the USA, here in London it is Bank Holiday weekend, it doesn't have a special name but both a the symbolic start to summer, more so in the USA so it was fun to have my friend Rebecca over from the USA on her whirlwind tour of the UK (well south Wales, North London and South London).  We decided to explore my corner of  London as I currently live less than 2 miles from the centre of Greenwich and it is place always worth exploring.  As we were exploring Greenwich we came upon what I thought was the Greenwich Meridian. So I thought it was quite funny to straddle it and have my body spread over 2 hemispheres at once. I was disappointed to learn that it was simply a painted line on a pathway and not the Meridian line but I enjoyed the idea of it. And tomorrow is my last day at work, after 7.5 years in the same job (minu