Carabassa*

We walked through the town, taking photos of balconies (I'm trying to get away from them but I can't - there are as many here as there are at home), looking at the market stalls, finding the tiled diagram of the winds that I'd photographed ten years ago when we first came here but which seemed to have disappeared when we were here last, passed the cafe where daughter E (and the rest of us) enjoyed her 30th birthday breakfast a few years ago and to the monastery where the town museum is now, recording the cork industry that sadly is now reduced to one factory in the town. Then back via a beer in a cafe in the market square to this restaurant next door to our hotel. A wonderful menu del dia - tapas, paella marinera with squid, prawns, langoustine and mussels, crema catalana, a bottle of local rosat wine and coffee all for 12 euros each. The owner/chef spoke French to supplement the halting mix of Spanish and Catalan I've been using so far here and we discussed the similarities between Catalan and Occitan. I'm completely confused by the Spanish/Catalan mix here but enjoying it all immensely, recognising the Catalan words that are the same in Occitan, remembering my limited Spanish and somehow being understood even when I mix them all up!

And all the while my thoughts keep turning across the Atlantic, hoping the election isn't as close as it sounds, knowing that politicians rarely achieve what they promise but knowing from past experience how much damage some of them can do. Four years ago I stayed awake until Obama's victory was announced. This year I probably shan't but will sleep hoping for the same result.

It's been cloudy today but luckily none of the rain that Veronica had not very far away.

* pumpkin in Catalan