Tuesday, 30 July 2013


There is a Labyrinth garden in Barcelona which is one of my favourite places. I love to show it.

This historical garden, the oldest in the city, was comissioned by the marquis Joan Antoni Desvalls i D'Ardena in 1791. 

The main house is part of a complex built around a medieval tower with neoarabic and neogothic elements, is not open to visitors.

Once you come into the park is 9,1 hectares divided in two areas: the neoclassical garden and the romantic garden. 

All around the neoclassical garden you see reliefs telling some Greek myths such as the rape of Proserpine, the rape of Europe, Echo and Narcissus, Ariadna and Theseus, etc.

Probably the most popular part is the labyrinth itself, which names the park, made up of 750 metres of trimmed cypress trees.

There are eight paths and only one to lead you to the exit. Good luck! It seems easier that it is.

In the upper area there is a neoclassical palace, quiet and serene, where, at the top, you can read in Latin: Artis Naturaque Parit Concordia Pulchrum (The Harmony of Art and Nature generates Beauty).  

Through here you go to the Romantic garden which is darker and more chaotic than the Neoclassic part. Although it is not so well preserved, still you can see a false graveyard and small waterfall. 

Wednesday, 10 July 2013

Hot and Cold

When it's really too hot (about 30 ÂșC and high humidity), I remain still, looking around and I have the feeling that everything is moving: houses, trees, benches... they move slowly. Boundaries are not fixed, but hazy

I wonder if everything is moving, although I'm still, may I also slowly going somewhere?

In Barcelona is summer now and I dream and read  northern stories. Stories from the Greenland Eskimo. They live in a hard and cold land most of the time. How are their stories? 

I read this: 

What is the Earth? 
Three friends were curious about the size and shape of the earth. They were so curious that they decided to go exploring. They had travelled for three days and two nights when they came to an enormous ice-house. "Let's go in", one of the friends said. And so they went into the house, which seemed to be without end. They followed the walls in order not to get lost. Where was the passage through which they'd entered? They walked for days, for months, for years. At last they grew very weary. It was all they could do to crawl now. Then two of the friends managed to find the exit-passage. His kayak was exactly where he'd left it. He came back to his people as a very old man. And he told them, "The earth is simply a very big ice-house". Then he died too.
Northern Tales. Tradicional Stories of Eskimo and Indian Peoples.
Selected and Edited by Howard Norman

No matter  whether you are still sweating with heat or crawling through the ice in the center of the Earth, you are always wondering, questioning things, forgetting that your time is limited. Life is short. Enjoy! I must go out to drink a nice horchata (Do you know what's that? Click here)