Forest fire devastation

The change of wind direction yesterday meant that we could sleep last night without fearing that the fire was advancing towards us - what a relief for us, but many other people would have been worrying about their homes and land.

We woke this morning to news that the fire had taken 3,000 hectares, but as the day went on the drizzle continued, the planes and helicopters continued dropping water, and there were no more headlines about rising winds, further devastation or evacuations.

This afternoon our friends who'd fled their home on Tuesday night returned to find their house miraculously untouched by the flames which had scorched leaves on the trees right outside the front door. Their cats emerged from the devastated forest unpeturbed.

Then this evening came an announcement that the fire is pretty much under control.

This is great news, but look at the devastation...

Cherry trees survived while the hillside burned
just a few feet behind

Scorched leaves but the olive tree is ok

Charred pines

Swathes of green are now black
(helicopter in the distance)

Wooden furniture survived although vegetation burned underneath

The fire came within inches
of our friends' house

A helicopter flies over blackened hillsides
dropping water where the fire is still active

Forest fire update

It's nearly 9pm now and the fire has taken 1,800 hectares. Reports say the smoke cloud has reached Mallorca. We've had a stressful day watching and waiting, but now the wind has dropped and is blowing in the opposite direction to our house so it doesn't look nearly as frightening as it did.

The planes are going back and forth over our house to the sea to fill up with water and back to the fire. Let's hope they conquer it soon.

This morning: wind blowing smoke and ash over our house.
We feared the fire was advancing our way

In the middle of the day the wind begins to change direction

The wind is now coming from the east

The fire engulfs the mountain

Flames break out all over the cliff face

At last the sea planes begin work

Forest fire

There's a fire ripping through hundreds of hectares of forest in the valley on the other side of the hills from us. Right now the mistral is sweeping smoke over our house, the sun is casting a curious orange light and flecks of grey ash are swirling and falling around us.

The fire began yesterday lunchtime. News reports said about 25 hectares were affected, it was being dealt with and there was no risk to the population. One report said someone had been arrested for starting the blaze. Twitterers joked about Rasquera's planned cannabis plantation going up in smoke.

Then as darkness fell, the wind whipped up. Suddenly 100 hectares were consumed. The firefighters complained that the terrain was tricky and the gusts of wind were fuelling the fire. The news report about the arrest was redacted; it said instead that only a witness statement had been taken. There was no moonlight, so in the pitch black night we walked to the top of our drive and saw the orange glow of the flames in the distance. We could hear a roar and wondered if it was the wind or the fire.

Instead of sleeping we searched for news on the internet. Our friends in the valley fled their house taking their three dogs and their most valuable possessions - their daughter in the village updated us on Facebook. They believed they were leaving their home to burn. I copied and pasted Catalan news reports into Google Translate: 500 hectares were affected, they said, and 20 people evacuated from their homes.

By 4am we could do nothing but drop off to sleep. Now we've just learned our friends' house was spared - the fire has left a lunar landscape all around, but the building is unharmed. The wind is still blowing though and every new statement says more forest has been lost - the latest from the Agents Rurals say 900 hectares have gone.

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And the unairbrushed version...

I've just realised that the last few posts about wild asparagus, fresh eggs and calçots may well give the impression that we're living some sort of soft-focus, idle, gourmet existence in the sunshine.

We are, sort of, and it's very, very lovely, but real life isn't ever quite as we portray it to other people, is it?

Perhaps one of the reasons that so many people suffer from anxiety and depression is because it seems to them as though their lives are never as perfect as everyone else's. The media fuel this by filling magazines with 'aspirational' articles featuring beautiful people with impossibly wonderful lifestyles, and TV sitcoms starring 'ordinary' families are filmed in unfathomably huge London terraces. Although I'm a journalist, I could never bring myself to generate this kind of soft-focus copy, which is probably why I tended to end up going to sink-estates to interview asylum seekers rather than hob nob with the celebs on the red carpet.

Now that I'm living a lovelier life perhaps it's begun to knock the sharp edges off my storytelling.

So, to rebalance the last few posts, you might like to know about the Week of the Sick Puppy. Koko (now seven months old and energetically fulfilling the puppy manual's entire list of what adolescent dogs might do to test your sanity) started the week with a wild chewing frenzy. She tore the stuffing out of her bed, chomped her way through a couple of socks before pinching the washing up sponge and consuming that. Goodness knows what else she put in her mouth because the next day she was very sick indeed, many times, until there was nothing left in her stomach.

The sick kept coming though, she was retching and retching and bringing up nothing but stretchy yellow bile. She wouldn't touch food, and barely drank any water. Her usual bounce disappeared, the naughty glint left her eyes and her ears began to point down.

We feared fatal poisoning from one of the let's-just-put-it-in-my-mouth-and-see-what-it's-like adventures. We know too many people who've had dogs die after picking up something nasty the hunters left behind so we took her to the vet; then took her again two days later when she seemed to be getting even worse (a v costly exercise indeed).

There, you don't get dog sick in many glossy mags, do you?

She's better now - back to eating everything, particularly other animals' poo.

Wild asparagus

The April showers (well, torrential rain and hailstorms) mean that what was once hard bare ground is now lush with bright green shoots of new growth.

Impending rain

Hailstorm, 14 April

Icy cactus

The brambles are once again making their prickly way over the garden, but the terraces that we've not yet tidied up are full of the bright colours of wild flowers - purple thistles, yellow cotton lavender, and lots of plants - pink, red and orange - that I haven't yet identified.

Best of all, there's wild asparagus. 

When we arrived in Catalunya in March last year we often spotted people walking slowly by the side of the road with big handfuls of long, slender spears. I looked out for it too, but never succeeded. After a few weeks of determined effort though this year I've got my asparagus eye trained.

It is much more slender than the asparagus in the shops, often very dark green, and, when it gets overgrown, all those little buds on the sides shoot out to become prickly branches.

Wild asparagus

After 10 minutes of foraging

I fry it quickly in a little olive oil and some salt. With a little bread it's a good starter. It tastes smokier than cultivated asparagus and somehow a little more green.

There's also wild garlic springing up now, hard green apricots and almonds are already on the trees, and the cherries are definitely on their way.

Little green hands: the first fig leaves in early April