Ringing in the New Year

To say it has been an eventful opening to the new year would be an understatement. Having arrived at Cal Llop on New Year's Eve, St. Silvester's feast day, we were greeted with kisses, and ushered off to
(Room 6) for a nap before the evenings festivities. The hotel was full, and Waldo had organized the team (which now included Joao, a most delightful Brazilian we met when we first came to this wonderful place) to create a fantastic 9 course dinner, with a variety of wines and cava, and which included roast suckling pig. We rang in the new year with the traditional gong of the bell (in this case a kitchen pot) while popping twelve grapes into our mouths, followed by a toast with cava. At 1:30 we proceeded down to (Irreductibles) for a cotillón de noche vieja, an impromptu party of dancing and carrying on, which included hotel guests, local folks, and even the mayor of Gratallops and his wife. A wild "night", ending at 6:30 a.m. Fun!

Once the holidays settled down, we set about the task of finding a house to rent in our village, (La Figuera). A combination of chatting in the local bar, tips from friends, and a walk around the village yielded some results. We met with a delightful young woman named Marta at the local hang out (where the men sit on one side playing cards and drinking beer and the women sit on the other chatting and drinking coffee, old school), and she led us to a fantastic house, (L'Eremita). Needless to say, at $420. a month, we have decided to rent the bottom half for the year, starting in March. With wi-fi, a washing machine, and a terrace with a view, it will make our transition so much more comfortable, while we renovate the casita. Moving forward.

And then the snows came. What a storm! Two days of non-stop snow. David had left by then, headed back to PDX for work, and made it out in the nick. We have been snowbound since Thursday, with ice creating a skating rink on the village streets. But oh how beautiful it is. The trick now is to get out Monday to catch the train in Reus, bound for Barcelona. Cristina is headed to Madrid, to catch a flight to Marrakech, Waldo hangs in Barcelona with Pelutti (their fabulous dog), waiting for Cristina to return so they can hang in Ibiza for two weeks, and I head back to PDX. I'd rather be going to Ibiza, but c'est la vie. Next time. With flights at 40 euro from Barcelona, and a car rental at 10 euro, why not?

New Year in the Priorat

Going to the den of wolves to ring in the new year. Prepare for 2010, because twill be the year. We fly on Wednesday, December 30, and arrive at(Cal Llop) for New Years Eve. (Eating grapes) with our Priorat family . And hopefully finding a home of our own, a townhouse we can hang our shingle on, a place to work, invite friends and family, leave treasures secured. My goal: next New Year in the Priorat as denizens. Stay tuned!

What will the new year bring?

Our scheduled month in Gratallops, as guardians of the hotel, has been waylaid. Truly distressing. Cristina sent photos of the snowfall in the Priorat, a blanket of beauty.
I have been dreaming of the church bells and the birds singing outside the window of Cal Llop. And now I am trying to reconcile myself to the fact that I am stuck in the misery that is Portland, Oregon, because of possible work for David. Sad, to be tethered to a place who's usefulness has worn off. Will I ever get to where I long for?
We had hoped to at least rendezvous for a couple of weeks at Cal Llop, to ring in the new year, but I fear I have incurred the wrath of Cristina by not coming for the month. Who knows.
Today is Christmas Eve, the first holiday without any of the kids. Weird. I won't do this again, not here. Next Christmas, Spain.

The Harvest in Priorat

September has come and gone. Our two week hop across the pond, to the Priorat for the vendimia was a glorious time. We bounced from the hotel to Waldo and Cristina's townhouse, trying to be useful with small chores like hemming curtains and hanging up paintings. Best of all was filling in at the hotel, as barkeep, waitress, sous chef, and dishwasher. Like an episode of "Fawlty Towers", so delightful!
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6698933542780842398#

The cruelty of time

I have reconciled myself to the fact that few will read this "blog", but those of you that do, I can only say that the few months that have passed between my last entry and today 'splain it all. As we prepare to head back to La Figuera, to drill once again for the coveted water, I am struck by how much pain and joy co-mingle. My eldest son, my first born, is getting married. And a dear friend, one I had struggled hard to hang on to, has died. And yet I persist in returning to the Priorat, to the finca, because I believe, I dream, I imagine. Is that so wrong? Septiembre, Cristina, Septiembre.

Adios

I am officially signing off from Gratallops, this morning at 1:25 a.m. as we leave for Barcelona at 6 a.m. for our return to the states. It has been a ride. Today was a let down with the well, as we didn't get to see water gushing. More work to do. So, for now, dear friends and family, hasta proxima (until the next one).

Well!

After a nightmarish weekend, spent primarily prone in bed with fever and cough, we rose this morning to a clear sky. David and I dragged ourselves through the tasks we promised to deliver on, planing doors and painting details in the hotel, while Cristina chastised us, demanding we take to our beds. But a promise is a promise, and we had offered our services as best we could to help get the hotel up and running by weeks end. So paint I did, each room its own unique color story. I love this place, so creative, so individual. And I love Cristina. She threw her back out on Sunday (she's at the chiropractor now, a 9 p.m. appointment, image that stateside!), yet she persevered with her cous cous for yesterdays meal, and it was stupendous! Problem was most of us were three sheets. Fredi and Cristina with backs out, David and I with flu, Maryanne overwhelmed by the demands for new wines at the bodega where she is vintner. We were a sad crew. But we enjoyed!
And today, sun, and the well. We arrived at the finca to find that Vincen's man had done the job, clearing the way for various trucks, what we had gotten a provicional clearance to do from the delightful engineer in Tarragona, Laura Guitar. To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Like a drastic haircut. But it has to be done. Most of the almonds have been so neglected we have to start again. And olives need to be pruned and tended, some need to go, as old school was to plant them at the edge of the terrace wall, and they are endangering the stones. That won't do. The stone walls are a marvel, and much harder to replace than an olive tree, especially one that has been neglected and hasn't grown so well.
It was complex, there were mixed emotions seeing so much equipment on my beloved finca,like giving one of my babies their first haircut. But it must be done, not only for aesthetics but ease of maintenance and cultivation. So many machines! Tractors, water trucks, drilling equipment. Like Richard Scarry's "Busy Busy World". Kind of strange, after a month of solitude.
When we left at 6 this afternoon (for in Spain this is still afternoon!)they had reached 75 meters. We are anticipating water at 150. So nerve wracking, you can't imagine. We drove away knowing tomorrow is make or break. An amazing sunset, the "golden hour" spreading an extraordinary light over the mountains and pines. I wept from the sheer beauty. Romance cannot be squelched! And, after all, tomorrow is another day.