Bugs

There are lots of dragonflies around at the moment. On my first evening back from England I sat on the terrace as the sun set watching their wings flashing in the fading light.

David spotted an odd-looking beetle a couple of weeks ago. He called it Dali.

And in the evening, the best entertainment is to sit on the terrace and watch as the geckos race each other to snatch up the moths that flutter around the light. I don't have any photos as they're far too fast for me to capture. But I did manage to photograph the praying mantis that turned up one evening.

Paella and politics: La Diada Nacional de Catalunya

In Catalunya, 11 September doesn't mean terrorism or the twin towers, instead it's the Catalan national day. Eating, drinking and having fun are important, but there's also a strong political aspect.

The date commemorates a defeat rather than a grand victory: 11 September 1714 was when Catalans in Barcelona fell to monarchist troops after a 14-month siege during the Spanish Succession War. I'm no great expert on this part of Spanish history, so when I find out more about what all this means, I'll let you know.

At the official ceremony in Barcelona, Artur Mas, the president of the Catalan government (the Generalitat), caused controversy by refusing to speak in Castilian at all. He said: "The Catalan national transition is being carried out." This is against a background of debates about the role of Castilian in schools, see more in El Pais. 

In our village, Catalan flags were draped out of balconies and a wreath was laid at the main monument. After that, the fun began with a 'gran paella popular' prepared for lunch under the shade of the trees at the Ermita. Most of the villagers were sitting at long trestle tables which they laid with salads, bread and drinks. Enormous portions of paella were speedily doled out at about 3pm. It was delicious, full of mussels, prawns and rabbit (even the odd rabbit's head) and generally agreed to be better than Miravet's cherry festival paella. 

Paella for the whole village

After lunch, men at several tables prepared Calmant, a drink that's unique to our village. In a silver bowl a mixture of rum, sugar and coffee are set alight and ladled higher and higher as the sugar dissolves. It's not very nice, in my opinion, and certainly doesn't help you sleep.

The afternoon was finished with the local band playing the Catalan national anthem, Els Segadors, before the evening's entertainments - bingo, skittles, sack races and games for the children - began.

Late summer in England

I spent the last two weeks of August in the UK, and it was cold. I packed for this trip in the middle of the day, when it was 35 degrees and sunny, and I really couldn't imagine feeling cool, let alone very cold indeed.

So it was a bit of a shock to arrive in England and find that it really wasn't warm enough to be wearing just skirts, T-shirts and sandals. In particular, it wasn't warm enough to be wearing such flimsy attire when I went camping with friends for the August bank holiday weekend. One night in my tent I slept in and under the following: trousers, socks, vest top, t-shirt, hoodie (hood up), silk sleeping bag liner (stretched over cold nose), sleeping bag, fleece blanket (doubled), anorak, bath towel and – getting desperate now – slightly damp hand towel over feet. I was still cold.

Nevertheless, the rain managed to hold itself back for most of the weekend, the hailstones that hit Suffolk didn't hit us and we even managed to pack up the tents when it was dry, which made life much easier. And we had a lovely time.

I spent some of the fortnight relishing a few of the things that are good about England: smoked bacon, soft (albeit slightly damp) grass, multiculturalism (yes, even after the riots), deciduous trees, fish and chips and mushy peas, bitter, the first conkers, overpriced East End trinket shops...

I also stepped out of a few eco-habits. When it's tipping it down outside, there's really not much point in saving the few drops of water that you've rinsed out the teapot with to put on the tomatoes. And when it's chilly in the morning it's a real wrench to turn off the lovely warm shower while you wash and shiver.

While it's turning to autumn in England, it's still summer in Spain - hurray! It's great to be back!