We were lost. A usual occurence. And somewhere between wondering were we went wrong and wondering if it really even mattered, we spotted a little plot of land off to the side of the road. There were a ton of people there. All working. One with a shovel, another with a plow, a few more weeding. One pulling out some now-unnecessary tomato stakes, a woman and her toddler giving a tour and then a whole little market stand at the entrance with both farmers and shoppers chatting away. Oooo, what's this??! That looks interesting!
So we drove around the block a few times, trying to find a parking spot. Eventually made it in the garden gate and were introduced to our first community garden in Spain! I have had only one prior experience with a community garden, in Providence RI. A lovely organization and an amazing idea. I had yet to find a similar project on my travels. But here, just outside Barcelona, a quick bike ride from the beach and nestled in a flat plain with mountains in the backdrop was this Catalonia- rendition of a community garden.
It's a holding of land about a half hectare in size which is home to a small garden shed and small market stand to one side and the rest are plots of either 50 square meters or 25 square meters. Neighbors pay a monthly rent for their garden space and have access to water, tools and advice from the garden guru. It's only 25 euros. Which when you think of it - a place where you can grow something quite easily all year round is an awesome price to feed a family on organic veggies and fruits. It would be super cool if there was a sliding scale! It's also a wonderful way to grow community. When everyone has their space to grow a really beautiful garden follows (I mean that figuratively and literally).
I think we're all fairly used to eating which ever fruits and vegetables we like, at whatever time of year we like them. They are always available. And apart from our own local crops you don't really get a sense of seasons for non-local crops. I know everyone knows that. Eating local, thankfully has become a well-known concept. However there are always those fruits and veggies that you can't grow local, and I atleast always wonder about them. Sometimes I don't even know what kind of plant they come from! While traveling it's always exciting to be in a new place and realize when something is really in season. You know when it's the season because biting into the fruit or vegetable is like an explosion in the mouth - a real feast for the taste buds especially when you've been accustomed to eating the available-all-the-time-variety. In Thailand and Burma and India it was the mangoes that taught me this - April might be super hot and the start of the rains, but I would travel to Thailand in a heartbeat just to have another bowl of sweet sticky rice with fresh mangoes.
In Greece the fresh honey the bees make from the Thyme flowers in June. In Spain last winter I had my first actually ripe pomegranate. The only way I can think of describing it is by saying, I had NO idea before that's what it tasted like! Or in the North of Spain last July with the plum crop. Plums naturally grow in thickets. I hadn't known that before. Actually these small trees that were growing so close together with such a mysterious fruit that made the whole forest smell of a sweet, heavenly, almost intoxicating aroma had me pondering for weeks about what it was. I never realized that those small perfectly round, plump and deep purple PLUMS that I had bought in the supermarket, actually naturally grew in thickets, didn't always come in a deep purple color and I certainly had no inkling that their scent as I walked by was so profound that it felt as is if my nose was actually eating a plum. Wow.
So now I'm in another new place. In the NorthEast corner of Spain, just South of Barcelona between the coast and the first ripple of mountains. It's a bit chilly at night and sometimes during the day with the wind. But nowhere near the coldness of our Novembers in Rhode Island. In the gardens here I see wilted and just passed tomato crops. The remainder of tomatoes shriveled, tinged brown and just barely hanging on with the last threads of their stems. I see peppers also seeking the last rays of sunlight before they too become compost for next year. I see vast patches of brown earth, one might think that it is the end of the year for this spot of Earth - just until you see the specks of young carrot seedlings just poking their heads out from below. The lettuce is full and bright, the leaves coloring the garden shades of spring green, deep hunter and even tarnished reds. The rainbow chard is a bit older than the carrot seedlings but not quite yet in its glory like the lettuces. There are peas and beans climbing the heights of their trellises made of river reeds. And of course the cabbages are in their element too like the lettuce. There are still potatoes in the ground, the plants just now going by and the little treasures below waiting for some eager hands to come and find them. And the neighboring farms have rows and rows of shimmering deep purple eggplants perfect for harvest. The real showstopper though is the artichoke. In every place there is always at least one plant (but often quite a few) that just look like they are at home and in their element. Right now, in mid-November, here in Catalonia it seems like artichokes are where its at. Rows upon rows in big farms or only a few nestled into the corner of a little community garden plot. They look good here.
So we still don't have any good leads about available land here, but our detour with the community garden added a little spark of light to the search.
So we drove around the block a few times, trying to find a parking spot. Eventually made it in the garden gate and were introduced to our first community garden in Spain! I have had only one prior experience with a community garden, in Providence RI. A lovely organization and an amazing idea. I had yet to find a similar project on my travels. But here, just outside Barcelona, a quick bike ride from the beach and nestled in a flat plain with mountains in the backdrop was this Catalonia- rendition of a community garden.
I think we're all fairly used to eating which ever fruits and vegetables we like, at whatever time of year we like them. They are always available. And apart from our own local crops you don't really get a sense of seasons for non-local crops. I know everyone knows that. Eating local, thankfully has become a well-known concept. However there are always those fruits and veggies that you can't grow local, and I atleast always wonder about them. Sometimes I don't even know what kind of plant they come from! While traveling it's always exciting to be in a new place and realize when something is really in season. You know when it's the season because biting into the fruit or vegetable is like an explosion in the mouth - a real feast for the taste buds especially when you've been accustomed to eating the available-all-the-time-variety. In Thailand and Burma and India it was the mangoes that taught me this - April might be super hot and the start of the rains, but I would travel to Thailand in a heartbeat just to have another bowl of sweet sticky rice with fresh mangoes.
In Greece the fresh honey the bees make from the Thyme flowers in June. In Spain last winter I had my first actually ripe pomegranate. The only way I can think of describing it is by saying, I had NO idea before that's what it tasted like! Or in the North of Spain last July with the plum crop. Plums naturally grow in thickets. I hadn't known that before. Actually these small trees that were growing so close together with such a mysterious fruit that made the whole forest smell of a sweet, heavenly, almost intoxicating aroma had me pondering for weeks about what it was. I never realized that those small perfectly round, plump and deep purple PLUMS that I had bought in the supermarket, actually naturally grew in thickets, didn't always come in a deep purple color and I certainly had no inkling that their scent as I walked by was so profound that it felt as is if my nose was actually eating a plum. Wow.
So now I'm in another new place. In the NorthEast corner of Spain, just South of Barcelona between the coast and the first ripple of mountains. It's a bit chilly at night and sometimes during the day with the wind. But nowhere near the coldness of our Novembers in Rhode Island. In the gardens here I see wilted and just passed tomato crops. The remainder of tomatoes shriveled, tinged brown and just barely hanging on with the last threads of their stems. I see peppers also seeking the last rays of sunlight before they too become compost for next year. I see vast patches of brown earth, one might think that it is the end of the year for this spot of Earth - just until you see the specks of young carrot seedlings just poking their heads out from below. The lettuce is full and bright, the leaves coloring the garden shades of spring green, deep hunter and even tarnished reds. The rainbow chard is a bit older than the carrot seedlings but not quite yet in its glory like the lettuces. There are peas and beans climbing the heights of their trellises made of river reeds. And of course the cabbages are in their element too like the lettuce. There are still potatoes in the ground, the plants just now going by and the little treasures below waiting for some eager hands to come and find them. And the neighboring farms have rows and rows of shimmering deep purple eggplants perfect for harvest. The real showstopper though is the artichoke. In every place there is always at least one plant (but often quite a few) that just look like they are at home and in their element. Right now, in mid-November, here in Catalonia it seems like artichokes are where its at. Rows upon rows in big farms or only a few nestled into the corner of a little community garden plot. They look good here.
So we still don't have any good leads about available land here, but our detour with the community garden added a little spark of light to the search.
Oh and does anyone know what kind of insect this is?? Found it back-swimming in the sand at the beach. I flipped him right side up and was quite surprised!
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love comments!
You're more than welcome to leave one...