Culinary Crusade in Catalonia

The cuisine of Spain has been of particular interest to me over the last thirty years. I lived in the area of Catalonia, Valencia and Mallorca for two years. Since then I have traveled back a handful of times to those same areas and also Central Spain and Andalusia. 

I have discovered that the cuisine in this Mediterranean country is among the best—and overlooked—in the world. Health benefits of the Mediterranean Diet are widely touted, but they are usually associated with Greece and Italy. I ask, why not Spain? 

Life expectancy in this Iberian country is the seventh-highest in the world. I would attribute much of this to diet. 

The Spanish eat five meals a day. Common ingredients include vegetables, legumes, garlic, olive oil, chorizo and smoked paprika. Most meals begin with a first course of soup or salad. Dessert is less common, and usually not so rich as the American fare. Typical examples are fruit, yogurt, flan or Maria cookies with herbal tea. 

Typical shop selling Spanish cured ham.

I have learned that there is a difference between what is served at home verses what is served in restaurants. Of course, there is an overlap of the two, but restaurants are more likely to serve popular foods such as paella and tapas. Inside someone's home you're more likely to get a fideo soup, garbanzo stew, or something with chunks of blood sausage. 

Food in Spain is very regional. Although paella is the national dish, it hails from Valencia. Fabada is a distinctive bean stew with blood sausage from Asturias. The Basque are noted for their tapa-like pintxos. Gazpacho reigns in Andalusia. The coastal areas favor fish and seafood. 

Butifarra is a typical sausage of Catalonia.

Arroz a la Cubana is a popular dish in the Canary Islands and Catalonia.

On a recent trip to Spain I returned to the area of Catalonia with my daughter. As always, I set out to find as much local food as possible. With the exception of one meal, we would be eating in bars and restaurants. 

On our first evening in Barcelona we ate at a quaint restaurant near the Gothic Quarter. Since it was Kaitlyn's first meal in Spain, she went for the iconic dish of paella. I, however, ordered a more regional meal, one that is certainly difficult to make at home: arròs negre, or black rice. 

Arròs negre is a dish with a hint of sweetness and chunks of squid. It is blackened using liquid from the squid's ink sack. 

Black rice on the left and paella on the right.

Years ago I had a lady make this for me in her home. With a notebook I diligently copied down every ingredient and every action needed to complete the dish. When it came time to add the ink I asked, “Where can I find that?” 

She looked at me puzzled and responded, “At the store, of course!” 

Little did she know that most stores in the U.S. don't sell squid ink. [The one time at home I followed this recipe I had to special-order the squid and then order prepackaged squid ink from Spain. It was a lot of hassle.] 

Kaitlyn and I enjoyed our meal. It also came with a sampling of tapas, which included patatas bravas (bite-size baked potatoes with a spicy sauce), roasted padrón peppers, sauteed chicken, fried anchovies, and calamari rings. I noted that most of the tapas I saw in Catalonia did not come served on a slice of bread like those I had seen in other provinces. 

Sampling of tapas.

My culinary crusade consisted not only of eating food, but looking at it also. One of the great pleasures of Spain is found in visiting food markets. 

We walked through the Mercat de Santa Caterina, a market just east of the Gothic Quarter near Via Laietana. The journey was both visionary, as well as olfactory. We walked through a large warehouse-sized building past colorful stacks of fruits and vegetables. Hanging from the shops were legs of ham, with their unique scent of cured and salty meat. Entire bodies of fish and prawns sat atop tables of ice. Somewhere from another corner of the market wafted the aroma of freshly baked bread. 

We found a place here to sit and eat a bocadillo, or “little mouthful” as it is literally translated from Spanish. These sandwiches are typical in Spain, made using French baguettes. I ordered a jamón y queso—a ham and cheese sandwich. Although simple in contents, the sandwich offered a flavorful punch. The ham was a cured Spanish jamón, thinly sliced and similar to Italian prosciutto. They may have squeezed half a tomato onto the bread and added a drizzle of olive oil, but that was it. Pretty simple. 

Vegetable stand in the Mercat de Santa Caterina.

Seafood on a table of ice.

One of my favorite meals was consumed at an outdoor cafe in Tarragona, which is about an hour south of Barcelona. Tarragona is famous for its Roman ruins, in particular an amphitheater and aqueduct. It sits alongside the sea to create a picturesque setting. 

But for this midday meal we sat at a table in the Old Quarter atop a narrow cobblestone street. For our first course I had melon and jamón, a salty and sweet combination. Kaitlyn ordered calamares a la Romana, a staple at many restaurants that are basically fried squid rings. 

Calamares a la Romana with a salad.

A perfect combination of sweet melon and cured Spanish ham.

For my next course I chose morcilla con cebolla (or blood sausage with onion) with grilled asparagus and french fries. The blood sausage is definitely an acquired taste and has a soft texture that is unique. Usually in the preparation stage the sausages are made by mixing blood with either onions or rice.

Nearly every meal on this trip was served with french fries, which seemed to happen far more often than it did thirty years ago. I'm assuming they are catering to tourists. Fries in Spain don't come with ketchup. They are usually served plain or with mayo. 

Kaitlyn ate bacalao (cod) in tomato sauce. Afterward we drank a small cup of manzanilla (chamomile) tea. 

Kaitlyn eats cod in tomato sauce.

Morcilla, or blood sausage, served with fries and asparagus.

It is interesting to note the impact immigration has had on food in Catalonia. Like much of Europe, they have experienced a huge influx of people from the Middle East and North Africa. Not only do these people set up shops to sell their wares, but they open food establishments that sell items such as doner kebabs, something I had never encountered in the nineties. Sometimes a restaurant will sell authentic Spanish food, but it is owned and cooked by Muslims. 

As I stated earlier, we ate one of our meals with a family in their home. Teo, Enric and their daughter, Marta, are friends of mine from my stay in 1994. They live in Girona, a staunch Catalan city located an hour from the border with France. 

Horchata in Spain is made from the chufa nut and differs in taste from that in Mexico.

After a full day of driving us around to different sites in the area, we stopped at their apartment to cenar. In Spain the cena is the final meal of the day, usually being lighter than their heavy midday meal. Spain is also noted for staying up and eating late. Hence it was about 10 pm when we began to eat. 

Teo set out a wonderful array of food across the table. We found an arrangement of jamón, green olives, pork loin, tuna, roasted red peppers and cheese. She also made a French omelette. 

An array of food in the home of Teo and Enric.

We ate while carrying conversation, covering such topics as immigration in Spain and local eating and sleeping habits. It is interesting to note that although Spaniards eat five meals a day, they are lean and have very low obesity rates. I attribute this to their healthy ingredients, as well as the fact that they still attempt to eat together, making meals a social event rather than a stuff-yourself-full event. 

Fresh fish is common along the Mediterranean coast.

We spent our final day trying to take in as much as we could and enjoy our final hours. As far as eating was concerned, I had one last request. 

In the Raval District of Barcelona we found an obscure hole-in-the-wall style restaurant. I remember there being brick walls and tables set up along the window, with a one-foot gap at the bottom to allow air form outside to flow in. 

We came to eat churros y chocolate, a treat in Spain that should never be missed. The churros are usually curly, without as much cinnamon as the Mexican version. The chocolate is thick, nearly the consistency of mud. It is eaten by dipping churros into the chocolate. 

We savored every bite that evening. Although I have occasionally made these at home, there is something special about eating under humid Mediterranean air, late at night with conversation all around us in Castillian Spanish or Catalan. 

By the time we finished and returned to our room it was 2 am. ♠

 

Churros y chocolate.

 

The Beautiful City of Girona

[Author's note: There are so many places, past and present, that I want to write about. The list is so long that some locations get neglected for years after my visit. That is the case for Girona. I went there in 2018 and am just now writing about it. Luckily, I have used many photos and journal entries and in my mind it feels as if it were yesterday.] 

The ride was only 38 minutes in train from Barcelona. Our hotel, the Hotel Condal, is very nice. We have a great view from the sixth floor where we can look over the city and see the tower of the cathedral. 

We find a grocery store and buy enough food to satisfy us for lunch and dinner. Across the street we buy a bar of bread from a panadería. Then we sit on a bench in a park and eat. We tear the bread into sections, then top it with chorizo, xató sauce and goat cheese. We chase it down with liquid yogurt. For dessert we eat Bollycaos, basically a hot dog bun with Nutella. How good it feels to be in Girona! 

I haven't been back in nearly 20 years. 

Basilica of Sant Feliu (left) and Cathedral of Santa Maria of Girona (right).

Girona is one of my favorite cities in all of Spain. It's colorful buildings along the river, the narrow streets and dominating cathedral make for a beautiful city. I am here with my daughter, Kaitlyn, anxious to show her a slice of heaven where I used to live. 

Girona is in the heart of Catalonia, an autonomous region in northern Spain that speaks its own language and has its own culture. Currently there is a strong movement among the Catalan people to break from Spain and be their own country. The Catalan Independence movement has been the impetus for protests and riots during the last year. One of the first things I noticed upon arriving in Girona were the large amount of flags, yellow ribbons and other symbols of the separatist movement. 

A view from the gardens of the cathedral.

We cross the River Onyar and enter the medieval section of Girona. We walk down the Rambla de la Llibertat where the street now becomes a pedestrian walkway. Stores with high-end designer clothing, pastry shops, and ice cream booths all dot the path. It all looks exactly how I remember it. 

The closer we get to the cathedral, the narrower the streets. Under our feet the cobblestones take on a steeper grade as we move uphill. Our final ascent to the Gothic cathedral includes climbing 89 steep steps. It is humbling to think that royalty for over a thousand years climbed these same stairs. 

Narrow street near cathedral.

Staircase leading to the Cathedral of Girona.

The Catedral de Santa Maria de Girona is the jewel of the city. I remember the last time I was here and we arrived just after dusk on a train from France. As we rolled into view of the city, the cathedral sat in all it's majesty on the hillside, glowing like a beacon. It gave me tingles. 

Like many of the cathedrals in Europe, it has a layered past. Once a primitive Christian church, it was conquered by the Muslims in 717 A.D. and converted into a mosque. Seventy years later the city was recaptured by Charlemagne. The church was restored in subsequent centuries and eventually a cloister and bell tower were added. In 1416 the church was redesigned and a large Gothic nave—the second largest in the world—was added. 

In spite of a few stained-glass windows, the cathedral is very dark inside. 

As with other cathedrals, there are many people buried under the floor and in the walls. Among them is Ramón Berenguer II, my direct ancestor. His stone sepulcher sits atop an archway in the nave for all to see. A detailed carving of the count lies atop the sepulcher. His grandmother, Ermesenda of Carcassonne, is buried in a chapel on the other side of the church. The cloister is also full of several tombs. Given that I love cemeteries, this is a wonderful place for me. I get a historical building and graveyard all in one visit! 

Tomb of Ramon Berenguer II in Girona Cathedral.

Several tombs in cloister of cathedral.

It is interesting how most Catholic cathedrals are just secular displays of history. Yes, when they were built they were given a lot of symbolism that told stories from the bible and their own history. But that teaching element is gone, at least for those who flock here now. There are many different chapels honoring many different people—including Jesus, Mary and many Saints. But there are so many that it becomes confusing as to what is the focus. The focus of the cathedral today is the architecture, the history, the majesty. 

When it rains, immense amounts of water fall on the roof of the cathedral that would saturate it if it were not diverted. In Gothic cathedrals there are systems of stone canals that collect the water and drain it through a creatively carved sculptures called gargoyles. 

On the Cathedral of Girona, all the gargoyles are of a decorative nature, or that of a monster or animal. That is, all except one. Near the Tower of Charlemagne is a sculpture of a witch. She wears a long vestment and bonnet covering her hair. In her hands she holds a scroll and parchment. Her mouth is eternally open to eschew the rain-water. 

According to legend she was a woman dedicated to the diabolical art of witchery, who, to display her hate of religion, would cast rocks at the cathedral. One day, by divine work, the witch was turned into stone and placed on the highest part of the church. She was placed face-down, perpetually looking at the ground, so she could never cast another spell. 

The witch of the Cathedral.

After visiting the cathedral, we take a walk on the old Roman walls. Built as a defense for the city, the walls were constructed in the first century A.D. and then reconstructed in the fourteen century. Today, half the circuit still remains, and has been fortified so that people can walk on top. 

The views from the Roman walls are probably the best in all the town. The cathedral dominates the horizon and the bell tower of the Basilica of Sant Feliu protrudes just below. Red-tiled rooftops spread across the landscape. There is a clear line of demarcation where the old city ends and the new begins.

Old Roman Wall that surrounds the city.

A view of the city from the wall shows the divide between the old city (in foreground),and the new section.

We enter through one of the towers near the cathedral and follow it to its end near the River Onyar. It is a peaceful walk and gives a unique perspective of the city and its history. 

After a brief stop at our hotel, we return to the street at dusk, just in time to observe the evening paseo. This is a marvelous scene that unfolds across Spain every night. Couples, families and friends dress up and go on walks. Fathers push strollers and lovers hold hands. 

We buy some ice cream and sit on a bench while watching pedestrians. We observe that there are big differences comparing Girona to Barcelona. There are fewer tourists and immigrants here. More Catalan is spoken and they dress more conservatively. 

Here there are Catalan flags draped everywhere, as well as yellow ribbons. The ribbons are in memory of the recent political prisoners in the fight for separation. The Catalan flags with a star represent Catalan Independence. 

Plaça del Vi.

A fresh food market in Girona.

The next day we are at it again, this time with a full day to explore the city. We go to a food market for breakfast. I buy a large rectangular croissant with chocolate filling. Kaitlyn buys a drinkable yogurt from the grocery store. 

There is a street market selling sunglasses for as much as 100 €!

We cross the River Onyar via the Pont de les Peixateries, a red metal bridge built by Gustav Eiffel before he built the Eiffel Tower. On both sides of the river are beautiful pastel-painted buildings, their reflections shimmering in the water. In the distance the cathedral towers above everything else. 

The River Onyar.

Our first stop is the Jewish Quarter, affectionately referred to as El Call. One of these days I will write more extensively on the Jews and their history in Spain. Suffice to say here that they lived in their own neighborhood, were very educated, and were eventually driven out with the Spanish Inquisition. 

El Call has some of the narrowest streets in all of Girona. It is a fascinating place to be. Woven into these narrow alleyways are meandering staircases and hidden archways. 

There is an interesting museum with a star of David on the patio. Of interest to me were some of the old headstones with Hebrew inscriptions that had been removed from the cemetery. 

A narrow alleyway in the Jewish Quarter.

The Jewish Quarter is known as El Call.

After lunch we stop at an archeological museum housed in a former convent. They have several Roman tombs, which I think are very fascinating. They also display artifacts from all the major eras, including the Bronze Age. 

Sant Pere de Galligants, an archeological museum in an old monastery.

On our next destination we come upon a rally for Catalan Independence. This is located on a small side-street and if you didn't happen upon it, you'd never know it was there. Most of the participants are young, but there is support from all ages. 

One speaker pontificates with energy the fight against Spanish injustice. This whole town is united in their battle against the State. There are signs everywhere denouncing political prisoners. Catalan flags of independence drape from the balconies. Old men wear yellow ribbons on their lapels. 

Candid shot during the street rally.

Symbols of Catalan separatism drape the balconies.

By now, evening is arriving again. We have spent plenty of time in the historical tourist section, but now we make our way over the bridge and into the newer section of the city where everyday people call their home. 

On the Pont de les Peixateries.

We come to Devesa Park, a large woodland with massive trees, alongside the River Ter. As a pleasant surprise, we come across several games of petanca. You know you're with the locals when you find a petanca match. 

Petanca is the Spanish and French version of horseshoes. I've never played it, but I understand the gist. A small ball called a boliche is tossed onto the court, and then the objective is to get as close as you can with your own bigger metallic ball called a bola. Spaniards are pretty good at this game. They can get pretty close and often they will knock another players bola out of range. 

It appears as if it is a league night. Each team is wearing matching shirts. A man stands inside a red hoop that is placed on the ground. With his bola in his right hand, he holds it palm-down and bends his knees slightly as his gaze is fixed upon the boliche on the other side of the court. Then, with the finesse of a dancer, he tosses the ball and it lands within inches of the boliche. 

Petanca in Devesa Park.

We continue our walk through the park. Tall trees tower over us, creating a canopy of branches. On the other end of the wooded park is a music festival. As we get closer we can hear the rhythm of flamenco and pop music. 

We quickly join a lively crowd that is dancing to the music. On stage are the performers, the lead singer dressed like a gipsy. Families are there: mothers, fathers, kids of all ages. The beat is catchy. Fathers are dancing with sons and mothers are moving to the beat with babies in their arms. 

The atmosphere is fun, but we soon learn that this is the final song of the night. We are disappointed, but grateful to have at least seen part of it. 

This is our final evening on the streets of Girona. Tomorrow will be our last day, but will be spending it with friends. 

Panorama of Girona from the Roman Walls.

One of the many legends coming out of Girona is that of the flies of Saint Narcís. 

During a siege in the year 1286, the French attacked Girona and ransacked many of the churches. In the church of St. Feliu, they tore open the tomb of Saint Narcís, hoping to desecrate his body. To their surprise, out of the tomb flew thousands of large flies. The insects began to furiously attack the French soldiers, forcing them to retreat back to their own country, thus saving the city. 

In two days, we go to France, also. But I doubt we'll be chased by flies. ♠

The River Onyar at night from the Pont de Pedra.

 

Finally Meeting Grandpa Ramon ( . . . maybe!)

Ramon Berenguer I. (courtesy of Wikipedia)

Inside the cathedral of Barcelona are two velvet and brass-bound wooden coffins. There is nothing unusual about this as there are many who are interred within the confines of these holy buildings. These tombs are of interest to me, however, because they contain the remains of my ancestors, Ramon Berenguer I and his wife, Almodis.
 
Upon preparing a trip to Barcelona, I thought it would be fun to investigate whether any of my royal bloodline ran through this part of Spain. To my pleasant surprise I found a father, son and grandson, all of whom held the title of Count of Barcelona.
 
I was very intrigued to learn of Grandpa Ramon. Of course, over the generations the strain has thinned and there is scarcely a drop of blood we share in common. But, just the thought that we are directly connected adds an extra element of intrigue.
 

The tombs of Ramon Berenguer I and his wife, Almodis, in the Cathedral of Saint Eulalia in Barcelona, Spain.

Ramon Berenguer I became Count of Barcelona and Girona in the year 1035 at the young age of twelve upon the death of his father. During these early years he fell under the tutelage of his grandmother, Ermesenda. As he grew older he acquired other lands and became the first Catalonian count to gain territories on the north side of the Pyrenees (Carcassonne and Razés). Ramon lived in an era when the Moors occupied most of Spain. He led many campaigns to keep them at bay and even push them back. He imposed heavy tributes on Moorish cities which helped create the first wave of prosperity in Catalan history.
 
Ramon was married three times. While still married to his second wife, he became involved with Almodis de La Marche, the wife of the Count of Toulouse. The two were married and subsequently excommunicated by the Pope.
 

Ramon Berenguer I with emblem of the cross. (courtesy of Wikipedia)

In the year 1046, Ramon and his wife began construction of a Romanesque cathedral on the site of a former Visigoth church that had been destroyed by the Moors in 985. The cathedral was completed in 1058. Two centuries later a newer and bigger cathedral was built. Subsequent additions were added in the following centuries and today the Cathedral of Saint Eulalia is an icon of Barcelona.
 
The cathedral is located in the heart of the Gothic Quarter. As a tribute to the royal couple, the coffins of the two founders hang on the wall. A plaque reads: “Sepulchers of the Counts of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer I and his wife Almodis, founders of the second Romanesque Cathedral (1058).”
 

Cathedral of Saint Eulalia in Barcelona.

Just 65 miles northeast of Barcelona, nestled in the verdant hill-town of Girona, stands another majestic cathedral. This one overlooks the Onyar River. Inside this sacred building is interred another relative of mine, Ramon Berenguer II.
 
Like his father, he was also the count of Barcelona and Girona. He was co-ruler with his twin brother, Berenguer Ramon II (that's not going to confuse anyone!!!). Amid tension, jealousy and quarrels, the two siblings decided to divide their possessions against the will of their late father.
 

Sepulcher of Ramon Berenguer II in the Cathedral of Girona.

Tomb and sculpture of Ermesenda, grandmother to Ramon Berenguer I in the Cathedral of Girona.

Ramon Berenguer II was called “Cap de estopes,” or “Towhead.” This was due to the thickness and color of his hair. All the rulers seemed to have bynames back then. Ramon Berenguer I was given the title “the Old,” and his father was called “the Crooked.”
 
The death of Ramon Berenguer II comes with legend in Girona. On December 6, 1082, at the age of 27 or 28, the count was hunting in the area of Montnegre, where he disappeared. The next day they found his body, murdered by an unknown person. As the legend goes, the corpse was found by a farmer who heard the cry of the count's falcon. The bird was perched on the branch of a tree. When the body was placed in a wooden coffin and carried to Girona, the loyal falcon followed the procession the entire way. Upon arriving at the door of the cathedral, the falcon fell dead on his master's coffin. To commemorate this act, artisans created a replica of the falcon in wood. Centuries later it was replaced by a stone sculpture which is still located on an arch in the cathedral.
 

Skeleton of Ramon Berenguer II. (courtesy of Llegendes de Girona)

Funerary pillow of Ramon Berenguer II on display in Girona Cathedral.

As for the murderer, it was widely speculated that it was his own twin brother, who subsequently took control of the territory. For this reason, he was known as Berenguer Ramon II the Fratricide.
 
To this day, the stone sepulcher sits atop an archway in the nave of the Cathedral for all to see. A detailed carving of the count lies atop the sepulcher. For anyone who wonders if the royal bones still exist inside these ancient coffins, I attest to you they do. I watched a video where they removed a side-panel of the coffin and inside found the skeletal remains (see picture above).
 

Ramon Berenguer II with his trusty falcon. (drawing by Joaquim Pla i Dalmau)

For the third member of the Royal Family in my ancestry, we must return to Barcelona. On the edge of the Gothic Quarter, sandwiched between the old Roman walls and Via Laietana, is the bronze statue of a nobleman riding his horse. The life-sized monument was sculpted by Frederic Marès in 1950, and is a replica of an earlier statue created by Josep Llimona in 1888 for the Barcelona Universal Exposition. The statue is none other than Ramon Berenguer III the Great.
 

Statue of Ramon Berenguer III in Barcelona.

Like his father and grandfather, Ramon Berenguer III was Count of Barcelona. After the death of his father, he co-ruled with his uncle, Berenguer Ramon II until his uncle was forced into exile in 1097.
 
I suppose he was called “the Great” because of the territory he was able to claim for Catalunya. During his life he obtained land as far north as Provence in France from a strategic marriage and military campaigns. In response to threats of Muslim expansion he pushed them back in both Mallorca and Tarragona, the latter of which he captured and rebuilt.
 
During the latter years of his life he abdicated the throne to his son and became a Knights Templar, protecting pilgrims as they traveled to Jerusalem. He is not buried in Barcelona or Girona, but in a monastery in Ripoll, some 67 miles north of Barcelona. I wasn't able to see his grave on this trip, but my wife and I were in Ripoll twenty years ago and had no idea an ancestor was buried there.
 

Ramon Berenguer III posting the banner of Barcelona at the Castle of Fos. (courtesy of Wikipedia)

My Royal Lineage
 
Ramon Berenguer I the Old, Count of Barcelona, begat Ramon Berenguer II the Towhead, who begat Ramon Berenguer III the Great, who begat Alfonso II of Aragon, who begat Peter II the Catholic, King of Aragon and Count of Barcelona. He begat James I the Conqueror, who begat Isabella of Aragon, Queen of France, who begat Philip IV the Fair, King of France, who begat Isabella, who begat Edward III, King of England in 1312.
 
King Edward III begat John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, who begat Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, who fathered an illegitimate daughter, Jane Beaufort. Jane begat Sir Henry Stradling, who begat Sir Thomas Stradling, who begat Jane Stradling, who begat John Griffith, who begat Eleanor Griffith, who begat Richard Bowen, the first immigrant from this line to come to America. He died in Rehoboth, Massachusetts in 1675.
 
Richard begat Ruth Bowen, who begat Thomas Kendrick, who begat Mehitable Kendrick, who begat Sebelia Jerusha Tucker, who begat Captain John Woodbury, who begat Jeremiah Woodbury, who, with all his family, joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in 1841.
 
Jeremiah begat Orin Nelson Woodbury, who begat Mary Margaret Woodbury, who begat Hyrum Nelson Leany, who begat Mary Erva Leany, who begat Toni Shumway, who begat John Lacy. ♠
 

[Postscript: There is a somber twist to this work. When I came to the end of my research, I learned of a controversy concerning the authenticity of our royal link. Some have argued that the connection between Eleanor Griffith (Bowen) and Richard Bowen is a fabrication created in the late 1800's and have listed the parents of Richard Bowen as “unknown.” If this were true it would throw out the entire notion that we are related to royalty through this line. 

My position on the issue is that it is nearly impossible to pass judgment on a “fraud” that happened 136 years ago, especially when it concerns the veracity of another event which occurred over 345 years ago! The truth is, we may never know for sure until we pass to the other side of the veil.]

The Fight for Independence in Catalonia

My first experience with the movement for Catalan Independence came in early 1993 as I was serving as a missionary in the town of Reus, just 109 kilometers southwest of Barcelona. A man approached us on the street and invited us inside his apartment. I remember his dwelling as being dark and bizarre, with partitions made out of beads, dim red lights and no windows. We quickly learned that he had no interest in what we had to share, but rather, he insisted on us translating a drafted letter into English to the newly-elected president, Bill Clinton. The letter would petition help from the United States in assisting Catalonia to secede from Spain. I don't recall all the details from that encounter, but somehow we managed to wiggle out of it.
 
One year later I found myself living in Girona, which lies just an hour from the French border, and deep within the cultural boundaries of Catalonia. Thinking nothing of it, the first day I showed up to church wearing a pin of the Spanish flag on the lapel of my suit. A well-intentioned member of the congregation came to me afterward, and spoke in a low, unassuming voice, pointing to the flag I was wearing: “If I were you, I wouldn't wear that around here.”—Enough had been said. I took it off and never wore it again. This brief conversation instilled in me the deep rift between the Catalan people and the Spanish government.
 

Catalonia has a unique language and culture.

The region of Catalonia in the northeast corner of Spain has a long and complicated history, of which I don't claim to be an expert. Over the past several hundred years, their culture has gradually diverged from the rest of the Iberian Peninsula, in a similar manner as that of Portugal. They speak their own language and have a form of government that gives them much more autonomy that other regions of Spain.
 
Still fresh in the memory of many of the older generation is the reign of General Francisco Franco, a dictator who ruled Spain with an iron fist for 40 years until the 1970's, prohibiting the use of the Catalan language and executing many who fought against him. Since his death, the culture of Catalonia has made a huge comeback, and Catalan nationalism is at an all-time high.
 

Banners in Girona support Catalan independence and freeing of political prisoners.

Recently I had the opportunity to return to this part of Spain for the first time in seventeen years. I knew that tension was high. Staying abreast of local news, I watched many videos of protests and demonstrations. On October 1, 2017, the Catalan government held a referendum on whether or not to secede from Spain. Previously, the Catalan parliament had passed legislation authorizing the referendum. In spite of efforts by national police, which included violence to stop the vote, the overwhelming majority of Catalan people supported secession. The Spanish government would not tolerate this and put a stop to it by arresting several key political figures who had promoted the illegal vote. The Catalan Parliament was dissolved and article 155 of the constitution was invoked, which imposes direct rule over Catalonia. The President of Catalonia, Carles Puigdemont, has since fled the country and is living in exile in Belgium. He is charged with sedition, rebellion and misuse of public funds. To say the least, the situation in Catalonia is very tense.
 
On the third day of our trip, we arrived at my beloved city of Girona. A medieval city that was founded by the Romans, Girona is picture-perfect, with a labyrinth of narrow streets and a massive cathedral that overlooks from a hill. It is located one hour north of Barcelona, in the heart of Catalonia.
 
One of the first things I noticed was the yellow and red-striped Catalan flag was hung everywhere—most from balconies. Some of the striped flags had a blue triangle at the side, with a white star. These represent Catalan independence. There were also many yellow ribbons hung about, some on buildings and others on lapels. These represent the political prisoners.
 

Girona is a beautiful medieval city in the heart of Catalonia.

During our first full day visiting the city, we came across what appeared to be a rally of some sort. The gathering was on a residential street, down the hill from the Monastery of Sant Pere. In spite of its proximity to the touristic area, it was far enough off the path that the only people there were of local flavor.
 
A platform with a microphone and speakers was set up in the middle of the road. Although nothing had begun yet, we could tell that something was soon to unfold. In the meantime, people visited in the street, a child kicked a soccer ball around, friends hugged and welcomed old acquaintances, and music played in the background. The atmosphere was very relaxed and jovial.
 
A banner near the platform suggested “Spanish injustice.” Other signs and t-shirts read: “La Forja, Jovent Revolucionari.” My best efforts of translation conclude that “La Forja” to be rendered as the forging ( to found, cast, mold, construct, create, establish), and “Jovent Revolucionari” as youth revolution. Wikipedia describes La Forja as a “left-wing Catalan independentist youth organization” that carries the ideology of Catalan Independence, socialism, feminism, anti-capitalism, and ecologism.
 
During our time there, two people spoke to the crowd. Both spoke in Catalan, so my understanding was a little spotty. The first man seemed more to take care of business, and talked of some of the efforts of the group. The second man, although more brief, gave a rally cry. He urged the continued support for Catalan Independence, adding, “Long-live the republic! Long-live the youth! Long-live the land!” He added that they would also fight for democracy, for socialism, against capitalism, for feminism and equality. “We will fight in defense of our land and our territory!”
 
The rally ended with loud music blaring over the speakers, people waving banners and torches, and smoke being released into the air. Those in the street danced to the music. I noticed a poster hanging from the balcony that read: “The combat continues.”
 

Rally in support of independence, held by an organization called La Forja.

The next day, I had the privilege of reuniting with some old friends who had lived in Girona their entire lives. Teo, Enric and Marta are very much Catalan, speaking the language in their home. (Teo was actually born in Andalusia, but moved to Girona after she married Enric.) We spent the entire day with them and they took us in their car to the beach at Palafrugell. We ended the day at their home in Girona, where they fed us a dinner of jamón, pork loin, tuna, roasted red peppers, cheese and olives.
 
The subject of Catalan Independence came up several times. Teo pulled out her phone and showed us pictures from the October referendum when the Spanish National Police used violence to prevent the Catalan people from voting. They were images of bloody and battered people.
 
Marta explained that one of the key issues is that Catalonia pays more in taxes than the rest of the country, yet receives fewer services considering the amount they pay. The people here are fed up. Now, the Spanish government has arrested several people connected with the rebellion. The Catalan consider them as political prisoners. Both Marta and Enric emphasized that the Catalan are peaceful people and wish to resolve this by non-violent means.
 

A few days later, our travels brought us back to Barcelona. It is interesting to note that although Barcelona is the capital of Catalonia, and the center of the independence-movement, it was much less Catalan than Girona. I attribute this to the massive amount of immigration over the past several decades, especially from South America and Africa. There are still flags and signs that display local patriotism, but not nearly in the quantity that we saw in Girona. Also, at least in the area we visited, I didn't hear the Catalan language spoken as much as I did further north. In Girona, it was everywhere.
 
One morning we visited Montjuïc Cemetery, a massive, yet beautiful burial ground located on a prominent hill overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Very much off the tourist radar, it is replete with elaborate headstones, mausoleums and statues—well worth a visit, especially if you're like me and are fascinated with cemeteries.
 
Hidden in the northwest corner of the cemetery along a road that can be difficult to find is Fossar de la Pedrera, or Cemetery of the Quarry, as it is translated from Catalan. During medieval days of Barcelona this site was used as a quarry for some of the major buildings.
 
The stone cliffs that were once chiseled away are still visible, but now there is vegetation growing over the surface. The large niche in the hillside is isolated and peaceful. A vast portion of ground is covered with grass and there are memorials and a statue.
 

During the dictatorship of Francisco Franco, Fossar de la Pedrera was used as a burial ground for those who were executed. It is estimated that between 1939 and 1952, nearly 1,717 people were killed, most of them by firing squad at Camp de la Bota on the northeast side of Barcelona.
 
It is no wonder that the Catalan harbor such a resentment toward the Spanish government. Today there are many people who were alive when these atrocities took place, or whose family was affected. Although not as drastic, I can imagine that what is happening now is reminiscent of the political prisoners from seventy years ago, who were ultimately executed.
 
On the perimeter of the fossar is the grave of Lluís Companys. It's not your typical burial spot. It is covered by a low arch and surrounded by a pond with floating lilies.
 
Lluís Companys was President of Catalonia and was executed in 1940, not far away at Montjuïc Castle by the Franco regime. He is the only incumbent democratically elected official in European history to have been executed.
 

Statue at Fossar de la Pedrera, in the Monjuic Cemetery.

During our final evening in Barcelona, we made the trek up the other side of Montjuïc to the Magic Fountain, an amazing display of water and lights, choreographed to music. The show only plays four days a week, and only in the evenings. The vantage point from this location is magnificent. One can see the towers of Plaça d'Espanya and the old bullring, as well as most of the city, all the way to the hills near Tibidabo.
 
And there were thousands of people. I wasn't expecting so many. I guess that's what happens when a city gets overrun by tourists. There were thousands the last time I watched the water display, but that was during the 1992 Olympics.
 
Shortly before the water show began, a group of a dozen-or-so silent protesters surrounded the fountain with large posters. Each one beheld a picture of a different person, each with the caption: “Freedom. Imprisoned since October 16, 2017.” The words were in English—an obvious attempt to educate the throng of visitors. They stood in silence for about five minutes, then left.
 

Silent protest in Barcelona.

It has now been seven months since my visit to Catalonia. Occasionally I will watch the Spanish news on RTVE and the issue of Catalan Independence is still at the forefront. There have been rallies held in the streets, and some have blocked major highways in protest.
 
As a personal opinion, I don't know how this will end. Spain will fight (and I believe rightly so) any move by Catalonia to secede. They would have nothing to gain. If it were to come down to violence, Catalonia would lose, as Spain has the advantage of a military. 

But it is impossible to quell the determined voice of the Catalan. This is a showdown that has been brewing for centuries. Most of their concerns are valid. And it seems to be the trend—all over the world—that the youth are rising and making their voice heard. They want change, for better or for worse.
 
No, there is no easy solution. ♠ 

"Free Political Prisoners" reads a banner in Tarragona, Spain.