I’m posting the photo from the very modern open Barcelona wharf that somehow disappeared earlier. Also wanted to show that Emirates Team New Zealand stands out in the crowded Cup Village so here’s a picture.

The Romans established Valencia as a sort of old folks home for retired soldiers, so I arrived with expectations of being welcomed with open arms. I think they’ve forgotten their heritage – of course it may be that I look too young!

Yesterday we drove into the mountains and there are plenty of them forming a backdrop to the region. Closer to the ocean where we are staying there are hundreds of hectares of rice fields, at present just shallow pools of water with a few green bits showing. The train to Valencia takes us through these and looking across the huge expanse we could be in Bali. Where there is not rice, there are orange groves as far as eye can see or rather old looking olive groves.

One picture shows a valley as we climbed inland, the cloth-covered areas are loquats hidden from the birds – they are ripe just now and huge by our standards. Most oranges have been picked; lemons seemed to be the citrus of choice as we got higher and cooler.

In common with other Mediterranean countries, castles and bits of castles abound where there is high ground. We arrived at a place called Catrionawillremember – there are a lot of places called that, and visited some old houses and the castle, pretty spectacular I think you’ll agree.

Blog 2

The pool opens off the dining area – this works well as cooked sausages and prawns float. Gazpacho and sangria pose a bit of a problem though.

Speaking of floating, in 1964 on my great OE I stayed with my sister and friends in a villa on the island of Ibiza off Barcelona for some weeks. We had a very deserted beach with a tiny island just off it to which we were able to swim pushing food and drinks on an inflated lilo in front of us. The little island was covered with lizards but also there were these curious kiwi-fruit looking and sized balls of roots that drifted onto the beach and dried in the sun. We found them good for fuelling the fires we lit to cook on. We affectionately called them furries as in we’ve got furries – no wurries! When one fell off the fire and lay smouldering it was a “furry with a singe on top” which we put to music and the tune is now quite famous! Well here’s a picture of those very same furries taken on the beach off Gandia 43 years later. Now how about that!

Language.

It has always been a puzzle to me as to why we go to so much trouble in particular in French but in English also to make a verb match the gender and plurality of the subject. If suis only comes after je and am only after I then why not drop the je and the I! In most cases the Spanish seem to have done just that. Fantastico.

The sea in Spanish is masculine; in French it is feminine. Where the two coastal zones collide there must be a gender blender of some sort. As we drive north into France later I’m considering swimming at that very spot to see what happens. After perhaps years of being in a single gender sea a molecule comes upon a place where frustrated male meets frustrated female by the billions! And if he or she “mingles” right on the boundary every wriggle could change the mingle from gay to straight to lesbian and back in the blink of an eye. I’ve heard the term “a confused sea” in nautical circles, perhaps this is its true origin.

And finally – I’ve always looked for a shortcut to surviving with a foreign language. I’ve found it, I learned to say sorry “lo siento”. I walked through Gandia saying ‘lo siento’ to everyone who came my way and some who didn’t. You get a lot of strange looks but nobody gets annoyed with you and every now and then it rescues you from an embarrassing moment.

UK and Spain

Day 2 in London Andrew and I went to the new Wembley football ground to watch the first ever senior match played there. The teams were Kidderminster and Stevenage. The ground is enormous with a capacity of 90,000 some 52,000 vented their voices and Mexican Wave prowess on the stadium during our game. We sat at one end behind the goalposts. Really it was above the goalposts as we rode about 8 escalators to get there and sat on what seemed a precarious slope to look down on the game. The stadium has sliding roofs and on one side the top is supported by a large sloping arch with drop cables (this is largely a visual statement and gives the stadium its external character) while on the other side the top is supported from below by an impressive system of girders and cables. We were at the Kidderminster end, you need to know that because when the opposition scores you do not cheer, you subtly lower your eyes and look dismayed while at the other end of the ground pandemonium breaks loose with air horns by the thousand and singing and a sort of all-encompassing background sound like a Jumbo Jet trying to ascend the Niagara Falls.

Our end was happy as Kidderminster went to half time with a 2 nil lead, but the second half saw Stevenage score 3 goals and win 3 goals to 2. The significance to us of the scoring pattern was that both teams went out of their way to score as far away from us as possible, 5 goals all at the other end!

Did I mention Police, hundreds upon hundreds of them in their fluoro yellow jackets lined the stadium entrances and the streets for miles around. As we left the stadium and headed for the train, row upon row of police formed lines across the road facing us - perhaps 7 or 8 in the row and we had to walk through these rows. Every second or third row was on horseback, maybe 50 or 60 horses on our side of the stadium alone. In the crowd it was inevitable that some of the walkers would not notice the little steaming heaps on the pavement and many a walker came with white or black footwear and left with brown. This seemed a little bizarre to me in this day and age but Andrew commented that the visual presence of horses and their ability to control crowds through their sheer size and weight made up for it.

That night we went out to dinner with some other friends - the food was good but the venue was the most interesting thing, a hydraulic pump house. London apparently had 4 of these in its heyday, and they were originally coal fired. They formed a network with some 300 miles of pipes which carried water under pressure, 700 psi, to operate machinery. The machinery included Tower Bridge opening (still uses hydraulics but now electrically driven and dedicated local) stage curtains, cranes, lifts, and so on. The network was started as a public facility in about 1833 to replace the many small plants being at that time used where each need arose. There were a series of "accumulator towers" at various points to store the energy by using the water pressure to lift heavy weights or compress springs. These brick towers are still dotted around.

In I think 1977 the system, by that time using electricity to power the pumping turbines was decommissioned and the infrastructure of pipes has been bought by a communications company to run their fibre optics through. A side benefit of the hydraulic pipes (1inch walled cast iron 6 inch diameter) was that to stop the water freezing it was heated and this heat just below streets and footpaths caused ice to be melted.

The restaurant still featured all the heavy machinery and tables were dotted amongst and on it.

In Barcelona now and staying in a charming apartment in the narrow streets of the old quarter, La Ramblas. As we left Stansted airport I was struck from our observation point in the gate lounge just how pronounced the turn-up on the end of the wings of most passenger planes now is. This reduces fuel usage by causing the planes to fly straighter and corner better with less side slip. Why did this quite recent development interest me so much? Well I don't know about you, but the group I was with as a kid making paper darts used to turn up the ends of the wings to make the darts fly straighter - and that was nearly 50 years ago!!

Anyway Spain - as I booked accommodation and travel in Barcelona and other parts I was constantly reminded that "pickpockets operate here". Fellow travellers have since been regaling us with similar dire warnings. At breakfast with two of our other room apartment guests, Stewart was telling us that he had 3 times in the 5 days he had been here, caught people with their hand in his pocket. He went on to tell us that when challenged they threw their hands in the air (to say 'not me' and to show the hands were empty I guess). Juanita our apartment manager is one of three people to tell us that other folk just watch it happen and then tell you "you have had your wallet stolen".

So today - I stood on the metro and became conscious of a young lady close to me. Then I felt her hand in my side pocket! I turned quickly and saw her withdraw it. I grabbed her by the shoulder with quite a strong grip and said loudly for the benefit of those folk who could understand English, "You had your hand in my pocket". She threw up her hands. "You are a thief!", I shouted at her. I was about to start on the "Do you know how much Spain relies on tourism" routine to try and get some reaction from the crowd who were just looking at me strangely as the young lady moved smartly down the train when I became aware of Catriona tugging desperately at my arm and pleading with me to let it go. So I did. This was 24 hours after arriving so I guess 3 times in 5 days is about it.

What can one draw from that? It is a way of life. Locals treat it as such and take no interest. Police are not going to try and improve the situation when that sort of lethargy prevails at public level. The consistency of pattern suggests there is training available at some point for newcomers to the crime. As for me, I have been dreaming up plans to have mouse traps in my pocket, or sharp objects or perhaps positive locks on the flaps - buttons, flaps and zips are not adequate! Perhaps a scorpion could survive in there?

We went Gaudi-ing and were amazed by his colour and style. I know gaudy is coincidental but........ In true architect fashion he took on or was appointed to works which were never to be finished under his control (he died while they were in progress) and which were subsequently reduced in scale to make them affordable and finishable.

We wandered around the Barcelona marina where apart from all the bars and restaurants there is a shopping mall also. I was struck by the decking of the wharf area, hardwood instead of the usual concrete or asphalt – but most of all by the lack of protective rails. In Spain people are still encouraged to take responsibility for their children’s and their own personal safety, the decking even slopes towards the sea in most places so wheeled buggies need to be watched and parked safely. Also when we took the train to Valencia later – silly saying it like that isn’t it, of course the train took us – to get from the southbound platform to the northbound one you walk over the rails with steps down from the platform for that purpose. I even saw people looking to see if a train was coming before crossing! Refreshing!

We had picked up our new Renault Scenic from BCN airport and the drive past Valencia and South towards Gandia was uneventful. Cruise control set at 130km/h and go – the speed limit seems to be mostly 120 but few observe that. We stopped at a roadside café for lunch and I persuaded the waitress to put the TV onto Sport so was able to (for the 3^rd time in a bar) watch the Louis Vuitton.

Went into Valencia Wednesday for the (as expected and in fact) last race of ETNZ against Spain. Walked from the train to the Cup Village about 4 km, past the very beautiful Arts centre and space-aged buildings near there. We watched the race on a huge screen with English commentary and with a crowd of whom perhaps a half were New Zealanders. The crowd was very polite and sporting applauding every mark rounding by either boat, but when NZ crossed the finish line well in front that was a great moment!

Our little house has a very small pool. You have to be careful when you step in not to step out the other side. I was doing lengths and I hit these legs in front of me – I’ve still got the bruise on my ankle! But it is clean and clear and wine tastes better beside it.

It rained night before last and it was dirty rain, bringing down dust from some other region. Our car looks like it has been dipped in mud and the pool needed a vacuum and everything outdoors became muddy. Never seen the like of it!