Spain’s Quebec

Barcelona – Girona, Spain

I’ve been to Canada’s French province a few times in my life. The last time was, I think, when I was there for a ski race in Gatineau Park outside of Ottawa. (I don’t think the park itself is in Quebec but there were a lot of French Canadians racing – so close enough …)

It was snowing like crazy. With conditions like that it’s pretty much impossible for anyone to break away from the group. There were probably fifteen of us in a big pack. It seemed like most of them spoke French. Whenever anyone would go to the front and try to get away they would start yelling. Something like:

“Ne le laise pas partir . . .”

Though it was Greek to me…

That was more than 30 years ago now – but it made me aware of the French in Canada. And since then I’ve followed a little bit of the politics of Quebec … Things like the Quebecers campaign for independence. The Canadian government requiring that all signs be printed in both English and French. That type of thing . . .

I guess I never really realized that Spain’s Catalonia region has a lot in common with Canada’s Quebec. Smaller regions of a bigger country where history bequeathed a different language and culture. 

Our tour guide yesterday – who was really knowledgeable – Evan, told us that the Catalon language, is pretty similar to Spanish – but if you call it a dialect the Catalonians will not be happy with you . . .

Catalonia has had a long and checkered history. The Greeks had some early influence. The Roman Empire built cities here – like Tarragona and Barcino – which became Barcelona later on. The Visigoths (whoever they were) invaded for a while. 

The Moors were here, but were ultimately beaten back at the Battle of Tours up in what is now France. This battle was kind of a big deal, because if the Moors had not been stopped at that time Europe might be a predominantly Muslim place today . . .

The French occupied Catalonia on a few occasions as well.

And after the Spanish Civil War in the 1930s, Franco – the dictator of Spain from 1939 to 1975, when he died – suppressed Catalon culture and language. 

So now the Catalonians are kind of hot-to-trot for their own independence. According to Evan they tried to hold a referendum on the issue a few years ago – but the federal government put a big kabosh on that idea. Ultimately the vote happened, but I guess the results were kind of bogus because only the die-hard independence people voted. And now the movement has died down a bit because there is a left leaning government in Spain and the Catalonians, who I guess are more left leaning themselves, are somewhat placated. Sounds a little bit like the dynamic between urban and rural in the U.S.

Now, you may be asking yourself how different their culture could really be . . . Good question. But here’s an example that, I think, sheds a little light on this question . . .

I guess Santa Claus does not come to Catalonia. Instead, in Catalonia they rely upon an often overlooked character in the nativity scene. Apparently there’s a guy over in the corner who’s pooping. That guy is not just pooping poop; he poops out presents. 

The upshot is that in Catalonia families find some log or something before Christmas that represents kind of a cross between the pooping guy and a traditional Yule log. And then on Christmas the kids sing songs and hit the log with sticks in order to promote the pooping process.

Eventually the parents suggest that the kids might need to wash their hands – what with all the sticks and poop promoting and all. And while the hand washing is happening the pooping log/guy poops out the gifts. 

In light of this story, I guess if I was the president of Spain I would have to think carefully about this independence movement thing. Is it better to rid the country of this strange Catalonian pooping guy and that weird Gaudi church, or is it more important to hold onto beautiful cities like Barcelona and Girona despite the downsides? 

It’s a tough one.

Okay, but I need to tell you a little bit more about Barcelona, our ride today, and Girona, where we arrived this afternoon.

Barcelona is amazing. Such a great city. Tremendous public spaces.

The Arc de Triumph.

This big phallic thing where the city’s two big roads cross.

Courageous, if misguided, architecture. Great markets. Bustling. And fun.

The ride today was really nice – though with a few hiccups along the way . . . 

Like when the bike path out of town dead ended at a construction site and we had to turn around and find our own path around.

Or like when Google Maps for Bikes brought us onto a gravel road and then, right when we were about to finally arrive back at the main road, navigated us across a swiftly flowing river. We ended up finding another, slightly better, river crossing, and had to take our shoes and socks off to ford the thing. 

And Girona. My goodness. We weren’t really expecting much from Girona – but what we found was an amazing old walled city – with all the walls still standing and a Medina of narrow winding streets within. Better yet, they are having this flower festival right now – and they had displays all over town. Best medieval town I think we’ve ever been in.

So that was a good day . . .

Tomorrow? It’s looking like we’re going to straight to France. We were going to go to this other coastal town that Susan F recommended – but turns out that their campground doesn’t allow camping – so that’s kind of a problem. (To clarify, they allow trailers and campers, but not tents . . . Whatever . . . It’s like Rochester or something . . .)

Oh, wanted to share that we are up to the 42nd parallel now. Still down in Iowa parallel-wise – but about the same as Chicago.