The only physical remains of Iberian architecture in Catalonia take some finding, way out in the seemingly featureless plains of the Pla d’Urgel in Lleida. But the fortress of Els Vilars near Arbeca is well worth the effort. The site appears as level as the ground around it, but with the foundations of its twelve dramatic towers excavated from the surrounding ‘moat’ it is no surprise to learn that the fortress was occupied for around 400 years (750 - 325 BCE). The tribe, if that’s the right term, disposed of their dead by incineration and internment in clay urns, remains of which occur at numerous sites all over the plains (the new Diocesan Museum in Lleida city has a whole floor dedicated to this civilisation). Quite what happened to them remains a mystery, however, as the site evidently fell into gradual disuse. One clue is obvious; the location is literally surrounded by higher, more easily defensible land, including the town of Arbeca itself (which gives its name to the famous Arbequino olive variety). The histories simply say that the Vilars people were absorbed into the growing Ilerdencan civilisation, after whom the city and province of Lleida were named, who caused the Romans a deal of trouble in 206 and 205 BCE – but that’s another story!
Briefs | |
The week ended with a late flight into Barcelona after two hectic days in Paris – a lifestyle I thought I’d left behind long ago when I moved to Spain! Having Nick Lloyd’s company during the drive home to the Pyrenees made all the difference though, and the following day we were able to spend time naturalizing in the wildwood around Casa Rafela.
Recent rainfall ensured that there were plenty of tracks clearly visible and Nick’s expertise soon identified the passage of a badger (Meles meles), a very common species hereabouts that I normally notice from their latrines. Much more rare – and infinitely more exiting – was our stumbling upon two weasels (Mustela nivalis) apparently playing among a pile of boulders beside the track.
One had darted across the lane as we approached, drawing our attention, but we were amazed when it, or another one, re-appeared among the rocks. Soon there were two ducking and dodging about and although both were evidently aware of our presence - we were downwind and stood frozen to the spot, of course! - they were apparently unperturbed. Indeed they appeared to be curious about us. I was able to slowly remove my pocket camera and attempt a few images as they continued to gambol around their ‘fortress’ – disappearing at times and turning up a few yards way, tantalisingly ever closer.
But at length they failed to reappear and, somewhat reluctantly, we continued along the path home. But in the gathering darkness another treat was in store; just a few hundred yards from home I saw a female red deer (Cervus elaphus) crossing the field ahead of us. It was by then too dark for photography and in any event the deer was gone in a few seconds – not before we could both positively identify it. I was amazed to find such a large animal so close to home, a home range that I’d been walking almost daily for the last dozen or so years! Nick postulated that it had wandered from the nearby Serra de Boumort game reserve, which is especially noted for its large population of red deer, and this led me to wonder if it was an adolescent male seeking a new herd. With no digital image to enlarge this will remain forever a mystery – and is, perhaps, none the worse for that!
Catalan Pyrenees, Catalonia, Environment, Favourite Walks, Lleida | Tags: Badger, Barcelona, Casa Rafela, Pyrenees, Red Deer, Serra de Boumort, Weasel|
On my travels lately I’ve been stopping to examine old permanent stone markers that hitherto I’d always assumed to be associated with the Civil War. But it turns out that these, like the increasingly common floral tributes, mostly commemorate victims of traffic accidents. I found a new one just last weekend, returning from a country fair. A carved stone obelisk near the quiet village of Sant Salvador de Tolo, on what was once the only highway into this remote mountain region. The inscription reads, Aqui murio despeñado con su carro y caballerias Juan Bertran de Conques, el 30 de enero 1919. E.P.D., ‘Here died Juan Bertran of Conques, fallen off the cliff with his cart and horses, January 30th, 1919. R.I.P.’ (En Paz Descanse). It’s easy to imagine the scene; the clatter and stamp of the terrified horses, the calls of the mossos, drovers mates and labourers who always accompanied the old carros, the driver frozen in horror as the cart, as its wheels uselessly locked on the black ice, traces its inexorable path towards the edge. Nervously, we peered over the fifty-metre precipice, naively expecting to see some remains of the disaster. But there were just a couple of old tractor tyres. An example of Spain’s modernity, perhaps!
Briefs | Tags: Civil War, Sant Salvador de Tolo|
