sunshine

All is not well here in Catalunya. Around town I see the same long faces, the disconsolate shakes of the head. “What went wrong?” you can see the men asking. Yep, a 1-0 defeat at Old Trafford means FC Barcelona are out of the Champions’ League, and with it goes their last hope of winning a trophy this season. Depressing times for the Barca faithful.

Still, at least Spring appears to have finally sprung.

It’s been a decidedly mixed start to the season here in the north-east of Spain. Short periods of warmth, when you get ready to crack open the summer wardrobe, followed by days of high winds and rain. For much of April it has been colder than it was in January and February. My three-year old daughter even saw her first hailstorm last week.  

Yet at last we are bathed in sunshine. The wind has dropped to a light sea breeze, and the mercury is rising into the mid-20s centigrade. My favourite season has (fingers crossed) arrived.

It is a wondrous time of year in our little corner of the world. Flowers explode from the hedgerows, the apple trees in the surrounding orchards are covered in pink and white blossoms, and the Mediterranean sparkles a translucent turquoise under the strengthening sun.

Unfortunately, it’s not such a joy for everyone. The guy who brings our weekly delivery of organic fruit and vegetables arrived yesterday looking thoroughly miserable. He pointed to the trees. “Pollen allergy,” he told me. And he’ll suffer with it, he said, for the next two months.

Ever since moving to Spain five years ago my wife has suffered the same. She never had a problem in England. But the change in climate and environment seems to have been the trigger. Like me, Spring was always her favourite season. Not any more. Now it is purgatory, a torment of continual sneezing, itchy eyes and nose, and sleepless nights. Three months that simply have to be endured, days and weeks wished away.

At least there’s the prospect of hot summer days on the beach to look forward to though …