Making music

A does her daily melodeon practice. Often she gets an audience, not that she necessarily wants one! This is a very dinky little vintage instrument.

Today we went to Alins for yet another Ecomuseum guided tour. I’m still not sure what the definition of an ecomuseum is. This one is a private enterprise in what was once a stable with a hayloft above, part of the home of the young woman, Joana, who gave us the tour. The group consisted of me, S, and A (G having preferred to go for a walk) and two Spanish people. Luckily one of them was from Pamplona and didn’t speak Catalan, so we got the tour in rapid-fire Spanish.

It’s not a huge building, so we thought it might take 40 minutes max. Ninety minutes later, comprehension fatigue was setting in for some. To be fair, much of it was interesting. The Vall Ferrera is so called because of the iron ore deposits, and it was a major centre of the iron industry in Catalonia from the late 17th century. So she explained the process in great detail, including the fact that they used a high flow of water to generate air flow into the forge to keep the fire going. The industry eventually declined, basically because they ran out of trees to chop down for charcoal.

The family now keeps beef cattle, and I now know why everyone around here copiously waters lush green fields of grass all summer (extra). It’s because winter basically lasts six months, so they do as many cuts of hay as they can while the cattle are in summer pastures higher up the mountain, in order to feed them over the winter.

Anyway, she showed us round the entire huge collection of artefacts, mostly of iron, including the biggest collection of nails I have ever seen. Once it was over, we needed a beer, followed by lunch of the most gigantic sandwiches ever — one between two would have been fine. Part of the point of going to Alins was to visit the bookshop, so it was slightly annoying to find that since it was such a nice day Meritxell had closed the shop and gone yomping up the mountain. Another time.

Back home, it was siesta time. And this evening S got the barbecue going (extra 2) for the kebabs and sausages we’d bought on the way down the valley.