May 1st, Cotherstone

Hooray hooray the first of may… and here I am back in cotherstone, not on a ‘plane back to New York as planned…

the sad news is the reason for the return: dear sweet Liz died a couple days ago, just as I had landed in london from menorca. I was planning to come up to see her for 24 hours before heading back across the pond today… so now I will stay on here for the funeral and thanksgiving service next week, after which I will hightail it back to nyc in time to do a quick recording session and then fly to chicago early the following morning to inter mum’s ashes… jeez…

But all in all, Liz’s timing was impeccable: she slipped away while I was still over here rather than back in nyc – a day later would have meant another very expensive and time-consuming transatlantic shuffle – but she also waited long enough for me to have those two beautiful weeks in menorca, for which I will always be grateful.

The other silver lining is that Sam and I get another week together. And if it ever stops raining (actually, even if it doesn’t), in between planning the ceremonies with cousin David and taking care of business, I hope to take some of Liz’s favourite walks around here – I have no car until Diana comes back down from scotland, so they will be local ones out of necessity, which is appropriate – and I will hang out with mr. monteverdi and the mandola in the evenings…

It’s truly the end of an era… she was the last of her generation, they’re all gone now. And it feels really different here, suddenly, really empty. I knew this was coming, but it’s hitting harder than I thought…

 


April 22nd, menorca

one week in, one week to go…

it’s more like June than April – hot sun, blue sky, hot days, cold nights – but so dry an island… I cannot complain, but I do wish rain for the island, we will be in deep trouble soon without it… traditionally it ALWAYS rains at Easter, but all we got were a few drops as the bells began to ring at 11.30 Easter Sunday morning, with the sun coming out a few minutes later… at least it was a nod to tradition…

In 50 years, this is the first time I have been here for Semana Santa… I went to watch the processions Friday evening and Sunday mornings, both at Santa Maria in Mao – with the main street in Sant Lluis being torn up at the moment, nothing much going on locally, but the rites in Mao were fantastic…

Friday night was hordes of klu-klux-klan-hooded priests carrying effigies, accompanied by massed drummers in similar garb and phalanxes of Roman centurions, slowly wending their way through the narrow streets of central Mao – all very medieval… they process with an extraordinary side-swaying gait that has the effigies also swaying massively on their perches – muy impressionante…

Sunday morning was altogether cheerier, with the same drummers amplified by brass bands, and the same Roman centurions, their armour and multi-coloured helmet feathers blazing in the sunshine, but now only two effigies, those of Jesus and the Virgin Mary, who after doing the tour of the backstreets, accompanied by their individual coteries, approach the plaza of Santa Maria from opposite ends, meet in the middle in front of the cathedral and bow 3 times to each other to great applause – and then every bell in every church in town started to peal – it was deafening, in the very best possible way. On Friday night I had found myself a perch on the balcony of the Bar Nou overlooking the square and so got the birds’ eye view, but it was closed on Sunday morning so I perched on the corner of the wall at the top of the road leading down to the harbour, from where I could see the whole length of the square, up the side of the cathedral to its entrance and up to the Plaza Colon where I could see them processing away and then back… all very satisfactory… there were times when I could hear three different bands playing at the same time – yes…

Other than holy rites, I have been engaged in not much other than eating, sleeping and gardening – the things I most like to do here. I did baptize myself in the sea on good friday – god it was cold, but so clear I couldn’t help myself. I took a walk along the cliffs past Rinco Fondu to the caves, where there were a couple of guys perched on the top step. As I stood on the precipice looking down, one of them shouted across (in spanish) “do you live in biniparrell?” when I said “how did you know?” he said “I sold firewood to your sister”… It was Antonio, from the Biniparrell farm, whom I have never met, but who recognised me as diana’s sister – good lord… and who should he be sitting with but a young american.. talk about a small world…

An email from David saying Liz is fading fast… oh dear… but I actually hope that she is – having made it to 90, and having seen us all, she really has nothing left to look forward to, and the quality of her life has taken a massive downward turn, so I hope she gets out as quickly and painlessly as possible. We had a wonderful conversation the day I left – she was more present than she’d been the whole 2 weeks… talking about all my traveling, she said “I don’t know where I’ll end up – after all, I’m 90, and I don’t suppose they’ll give me a job.” God bless her, I do love her so, and wish her god speed…