Thank you, Raza.Lovely B&W shot!
Thanks Rob. Céret is in the Catalan region of the south of France. It's just north of the border with Spain, and just west of the Mediterranean. It's about a two hour drive north of Barcelona.Nice shot, Brian. Looks like that wall climber is coming out of someone's living room. Love the patterned cobbles in the foreground. Where is Céret?
What music were you playing while busking then Rob?Ah, I hitch-hiked around that area some 35 years ago, busking for my supper. Those were the days! Spent six months living rough, playing guitar, getting drunk, watching the girls. Where did it all go wrong?!
I'd been teaching myself classical guitar while unemployed (thanks, Maggie!), and living in a cottage in Fife. I was away one weekend, and came home to find the whole cottage completely flooded, everything ruined. My guitar in its case came floating towards me on top of the water. At that moment the postie arrived with my social security cheque. Everything I had was ruined, life couldn't get worse (my parents had died when I was a teenager). So, I cashed the cheque, took my guitar, and hitchhiked to Barcelona, as you do! Of course, I had to get the ferry across the water. A couple of days later I was in Barcelona.
I used to busk outside the old cathedral, not Gaudi's new one. I was playing Catalan songs which someone had arranged for classical guitar, and old ladies used to give me some coins as they came out of the church. One day one of them made me a sign, in the Catalan language, which had been banned by Franco, saying I was playing old Catalan songs. Suddenly I started getting a lot more money! Not long after, other buskers cottoned on to what was happening, and they all started having signs made in Catalan! I started the revolution
So, I moved on, hitching south. Spend a couple of months in Granada, where I got a job playing in a restaurant up near the Alhambra. Then I went to Cordoba, where I saw my first and last bullfight - a hideous spectacle! Then to Malaga, and along the cost to the tourist spots.
I slept rough quite a lot, sometimes managing to book a cheap pensione, but eventually had enough money to fly to London, from where I hitch-hiked back to Dundee, to start life again. All seems like a dream now...
Rob your Catalan tunes are beautifully played and delightful to listen to. Thanks for posting them. (If you have a CD or download of the Catalan tunes I want to buy it. Let me know.) Lourdes: Sad.I've just remembered finding myself in Lourdes, on the way to Spain. I'd been brought up a Roman Catholic, was even an alter boy and member of the choir...but then I drifted. I'm not in the slightest religious, but I couldn't pass up on visiting Lourdes when I was close by. What an insane place! I met such lovely people. At night there was a big torchlight procession, thousands of people, I'll never forget the wailing, crying, tears of pain and joy. But the worse thing, the really awful thing, was seeing all the cripples lined up to take the waters from a priest, hoping and praying a miracle would happen, and they could walk away. Of course, it never happened. Seeing them come out the other end, utterly shattered by the experience - well, I couldn't take it. With tears streaming for them I left, headed to Spain. I should write my biography some day...
Pity I wasn't into photography in those days!
Thank you Roshni.The sunlight is complimenting the image very beautifully.