Dia del Libro

"It's a day of thoughts and feelings and love," Meri explains as we walk through the crowded streets of Barrio Gotica on St Jordi's Day - or Dia del Libro. It's a fabulous day. A day for lovers, a day for friends, a day for literature, a day for Cataluña. And Catalans were out in hordes to celebrate today. There's a gene that ensures they know how to celebrate such festivals, and this festival is one of the best. It's a day that morphs the legend of St George with literary history. Did you know that both Cervantes and Shakespeare died on 23 April? And that in the Catalan legend of St Jordi, out of the slain dragon's blood grew a rose bush? That St George picked one of those roses for the princess he had saved?

On St Jordi's Day, men buy their princesses a rose and women buy their heroes a book. (It's also perfectly acceptable to buy your boyfriend/husband a book, of course.) It's the Catalan answer to St Valentine's Day. But a day with a meaning, and soul. And of course, the princesses get books too these days, thankfully, because in my opinion, there is no better gift than a good book. But it's not only about gifts, it's about sharing your thoughts and feelings with the people you care about. Lovers write poetry and send letters (or emails). It's a day for friends and family as well as lovers. I bought the loves of my life (Harry and Angus) a book each and my flatmate Ivan bought me a rose. I got a signed copy of Anonimos by writer and poet Eduardo Mazo. It's a collection of his philosophical quips that have made him famous along La Rambla. His message reads: 'A Gabriele, con alegria y libertad!' (With happiness and freedom!)

And that's just how I felt today, happy and free.

There were booksellers and rose vendors galore. Book stalls were set up in every plaza, roses were sold on every street corner. The city was packed. Authors from all over the country were out to sign books, and bread made to look like the Catalan flag was the order of the day. At one stall, if you stood at a lecturn and read a passage from Don Quixote to the crowd, you got a free copy. And so the crowd heard all day about the wonderful adventures of that most famous knight errant. Having just started part two myself, I was captivated by this stall, although my understanding of the Spanish was hazy at best.

I recently read a couple of lines from the poem 'Leisure' by Welsh poet W.H. Davies:
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Today I felt like I took the time to stand and stare. And it felt good. In a way I guess that's what I've been doing these past months, but it takes a day like today to make me thankful for having done so. I'll end with an attempt to translate the prologue of my new book:
"Habia una vez una historia esperando suceder."
Once upon a time a story was waiting to happen.