The past week the temperatures dropped as an icy tentacle of cold reached down from Siberia. Schools closed and the mercury fell into the negative Celsius, states of emergency were declared in various countries, and here in Barcelona everyone geared up for a repeat of Barcelona’s snowday two years ago.
Barcelona is not built for snow, and last time 10 cm of snow in the city meant that people were stuck in traffic all night, causing mayhem and havoc which I avidly watched from my balcony. Our glass skylight broke under the weight of its cold white covering, and so leaving the apartment involved a gauntlet of falling glass, never mind snow.
All very exciting and indeed this year, I broke out my snow dance in the hope that the Siberian flakes would actually reach the beach. Unfortunately (or fortunately for some) I was disappointed as the snow drifts did not make it past the summit of Tibidabo, Barcelona’s encircling mini mountain. Not to be deterred I made Milos drive me up the hill after work one evening in search of snow. We enjoyed a bit of a nightsafari in the Collserola, and spotted not one, but five wild boars, plus a magical snow filled mountain top.
Then this Sunday we drove up to the Pyranees to go have a peek at the skiing conditions. We had quite an adventure when a small blizzard forced us to quickly buy chains from the nearest garage to navigate the newly falling snow. After a typical Catalan lunch, we continued up the mountains behind the small village of Alp. As we wound further up the slopes, we were rewarded with seeing a dashing fox slip across the road and away into the snow and a beautiful sunset across the icy vistas.
Of course all the cold and my happily rolling in the snow has given me a bit of a cold, so today I am at home, trying to stay warm. A good excuse to finish up some drawing which has been awaiting my attention. Back to work then!