SENSE OF PLACE

Jan­u­ary and Feb­ru­ary can, in some places, be as bleak as a life­less fun­fair on a wet, cold dawn. We should know. We came here from a grey, dis­united king­dom where win­ter can be... um... rather long.

What is needed on the isle of my birth is a re­turn to the rhythm of fel­low­ship, tra­di­tions for all; some of that warmth ra­di­at­ing from wise back­wa­ter Mediter­ranean com­mu­ni­ties. It is a les­son long learned, stu­pidly for­saken, a unity fun­da­men­tal here in The Pri­o­rat and, for sure, count­less peace­ful neigh­bour­hoods world­wide.

The crescendo of Christ­mas and Three Kings and then the pack­ing up of the lights, pe­se­bre and tió, can sag the shoul­ders. But hold your horses. The Falset en­camisada is just around the cor­ner, on the week­end near­est to Jan­u­ary 17th, St An­thony’s Day. The lit­tle Pri­o­rat town’s streets are flooded with peo­ple to watch a pa­rade of horses and mules pulling carts led by and filled with adults and chil­dren in tra­di­tional at­tire.

It is colour­ful, loud and proud, held on the Sat­ur­day night and again on the Sun­day morn­ing, to mark the leg­end of local men in the 18th cen­tury de­feat­ing French forces one misty night. They wore white shirts so as not to be seen and took the in­vaders by sur­prise.

Work­ing an­i­mals were brought to town by farm­ers to mark the vic­tory, but today it is usu­ally local fam­i­lies who hire them and carts to join in.

There is al­ways some­thing to an­tic­i­pate – car­ni­val, choco­late fest (oops - Set­mana Santa), wine fair, the­atre, dance, con­certs, craft fairs, festes. One or more Cat­alo­nia- defin­ing human castell might pop up too. Just don’t ask me to watch.

All of the above keep what mat­ters most in the mind, the peo­ple we share so much of life with, the land we touch, the ne­ces­sity of good na­ture and the val­ues that lift us all.

And here is the an­ti­dote to the gross re­al­i­ties of a world spin­ning off its axis. This year looks like it could be par­tic­u­larly grim given the ever widen­ing con­flicts and atroc­i­ties - and the way the US is hurtling to­wards a cliff edge.

Com­mu­nity and place are first and fore­most. Stand to­gether. Sup­port each other. Loosen the bond and we all fall. They sus­tain us along paths not of our choos­ing. There are among us peo­ple who are, heart and soul, in­te­gral to the great un­seen castells, peo­ple of all ages. In truth there are few who are not in their own way. We just need to re­mem­ber we mat­ter, have a role.

By the time I fin­ish it I sus­pect I will al­ready have found my book of the year - Lo mig del mon by Roser Ver­net is a book from the beat­ing heart of the Pri­o­rat, from Cat­alo­nia, for the whole world.

And for young read­ers I rec­om­mend El cas de la Mil­o­quera by An­toni Es­coda Rim­bau, il­lus­trated by Efrem Llo­rach Basseda.