back to Blighty

This is the first Christmas I can recall since childhood when I have been truly excited (not in the French meaning of the word). Travelling the lesser voyaged paths is exhilirating and wonderful. It also serves to pinpoint what is important in your life.

Although I enjoy spending what my friends deem an unhealthy amount of time in my own company, this Christmas I am more than happy to be in the warm embrace of so many friends and family members.

Four days back in the UK has seen me do some odd things. After dancing gaily around supermarkets in awe of vegetables, Harrod's foodhall in particular, I have eaten non-stop at a plethora of splendid restaurants. The food is consequential but not nearly as important as the friends I have been eating with.

Tomorrow we return to St Jean de Luz for the first time in an age. I am reliably informed that our cat is still alive. While we have been sent photos of her none of them were date stamped or had newspaper front pages to verify the time. I remain sceptical.

Until then I intend to sit in an old East End ale house, quaff beer and eat stilton cheese with a teaspoon.

Cockney of the day:- abercrombie and fitch :: bitch

end of term report

Today is my last day living full-time in Ulaanbaatar, the fabulous capital city of Mongolia; coldest capital city in the world; fastest developing capital city and a splendidly wonderful and completely barmy place. Following a heavy night of dancing and drinking I have to suffer the pains of first class travel once more as I brave a wee flight across Northern Korea for some time in Seoul before heading back to London, then Paris then sunny St Jean de Luz. It has been some six months; an adventure I feel honoured to have had the privilege to enjoy. Herewith 5 good things about Mongolia, 5 less good and 5 interesting.


The Good

1. Mongolian music is wonderful, unique and omnipresent. It plays as important a role on Mongolian society as it does in Basque culture.
2. Mongolian culture and history is unrivalled; its geographic position has largely sheltered its heritage from untoward outside advances and it remains as it has been for centuries.
3. The Steppe is both wonderful and fearsome; it is one of the largest and most hostile places I have been able to enjoy and riding across it guarantees peace of mind.
4. The Mongolian people have an amazing sense of self belief; there is little doubt their future is bright given this and the serene anger that lurks under the commercial skin thanks to Chinggis.
5. I have made some incredible friends in Mongolia; it is a happy place and I hope that as it changes so much over the next few years that it remains so (go now if you want to experience it as it has been)

The Bad

1. The harsh environment and weather are strking and waring to the outsider.
2. As the country undergoes dramatic change so quickly there is a sense of potential double standards and corruption; Louis Vuitton is established while orphans struggle to survive.
3. There is trepidation about outsiders, a little is healthy too much is dangerous; there is a scary right wing movement being established that needs to be quashed soon.
4. As the country expands economically it needs to make provision for pollution and recycling.
5. Mongolia needs to get over its perceived dislike of China; the economic upside for Mongolia is immense given its natural resources

...and the Interesting

1. Mongolia has, in my view, the prettiest ladies in the world (even my wife agrees).
2. The Mongolian word for beaver is minge; the Mongolian for lion is aslan.
3. Airag is possibly the most unusual and horrid tasting drink on the planet.
4. Mongolian horses are the hardest animals I have ever met; they could even beat badgers in a fight if it came to it.
5. Mongolia has some of the most amusing and wonderful signs

...as for what it was that made Chinggis Khaan so angry; I shall continue my search next year...

Mongolian of the day:- goodbye :: bayartai

does size matter?

Mongolia is scarily large and complicated country. It takes at least a day to travel north to south or east to west. It is a land of contrasts. The north is mountainous with forests, scary fish and lakes; the south comprises paleontologically interesting arid desert and glaciers. Things used to be a lot different. Mongolia used to be a whole lot bigger and more complex.

For centuries China and Russia have wrestled over Mongolia. Both super-nations have struggled to control the smaller nation and it's sedately savage population. After the Second World War a certain Mr Stalin decreed that Mongolia must never have an opportunity of having more than ten million inhabitants. He said were the country able to do so then Mongolia would surely take over the world; so savage and warlike did he deem its people.

After World War II Stalin took lands to the north around Lake Baikal and gave China what is now Inner Mongolia. Mongolia is still a big place with big challenges but it is not a fraction of what it used to be (size wise). But it is an amazing country with a fierce sense of identity, independence and integrity. It is a country I have come to love. I have always insisted that size really doesn't matter. It is the quality on offer that makes the difference.

Mongolian of the day:- land :: buukh

a big red surprise

No entries for a week, 'interesting' web access in China... I arrived in Beijing last week not knowing what to expect. I left this morning with a great feeling of warmth for the city. I know it has the worst human rights record on the planet, I know that its 'die-hard Communism whilst wholly embracing Capitalism' brand of politics is slightly hypocritical and I know that the Cultural Revolution destroyed most of its charm but still I found the capital an awesome and heartwarming place.

Staying on the 66th floor of the Park Hyatt, an enormously fabulous hotel and great cure for vertigo, I was able to watch the city by day and night. To the east Tiananmen Square (an unremarkable place if it were not for its historic poignancy) and the Forbidden City (more impressive than any literature can do justice). To the north SoHo and a myriad of fabulous roast duck restaurants and ridiculously over the top and expensive haute couture magasins. To the west the financial district with its constant money-making (and currency fixing). To the south the Temple of Heaven and a thousand mature patrons enjoying tai chi at 0600. A mammoth assault on the senses.

Escaping the some 20 million inhabitants for a couple of days we headed north to the Commune by the Great Wall. It is a wonderfully set place. Not so much a hotel as a retro-chic community of interesting modernist architecture. More importantly it offers access to a remote section of the Great Wall of China that is little explored. This offered us the joy of a lengthy trek without meeing another soul. We only walked some 6km but given the sheer drops and vertical rises it felt a lot further. How anyone managed to defend this wall is beyond me... oh, yeah, they didn't. When it's defence was tested it failed... As Chinggis said of the Great Wall: "a wall is only as effective as the people that guard it." Allegedly over one million workers died building the wall, the guide books don't tell you that (or that Chinggis & Co broke straight through it).

Beijing is simply captivating. The city is a long way from it overbearing politically motivated reputation. It is an overly fashionable, crazily rich, strikingly poor, startlingly evocative, remotely intimidating, heart warmingly social, scandalously bipolar metropolis. If Bladerunner was to be built from scratch then Beijing 2010 is that urban sprawl. My appetite is whet...


Chinese of the day:- hello :: nin hao

secret liaison in Beijing

Shh, don't tell anyone but we are sneaking off to Beijing this weekend. As I write we are preparing to flit by moonlight. The reason for being covert? There is serious history between Mongolia and China. Ever since the Chinese overthrew the Mongolian empire and held control for several hundred years the Mongolians have resented them and vice versa (Chinggis & Co had trashed the previously unbeatable Chinese empire). The Russians may have kicked the Chinese out in the 1920's and subsequently killed some 25% of the Mongolian population whilst razing all important buildings to the ground but they are revered. They kicked the Chinese out. The feeling remains strong today. Stories abound in Ulaanbaatar about the Chinese being a sick race riddled with worms, about shoddy Chinese goods that will fall apart as soon as you touch them. A Mongolian friend who studied for his PhD in the US caught me reading a guidebook on Beijing earlier this week, he hasn't spoken to me since. Similarly the Chinese detest a country they view as their poor neighbour suddenly having the fastest growth economy in Asia. Particularly given the growth has resulted from the myriad of gold, copper and coal mines that are dotted along the Mongolia-China border on the side that favours Chinggis' descendents. How he must be smirking...

Mongolian of the day:- how are you? :: yu baina ve?

I am awake - Buddhism in Mongolia

The dominant religion in Mongolia is Buddhism. The oldest may be Shamanism but since the 16th century, and the intervention of Altan Khan, Buddhism has dominated. In 1578 Altan invited the leading Tibetan monk to Mongolia. He formed an alliance with the monk that sanctioned Altan's might (Altan had serious military intentions) in return Altan named the Tibetan leader Dalai Lama, a name that continues today.


Tibetan Buddhism, which is still practiced extensively today in Mongolia, become the driving religious force. It was backed by the ambitious Altan and his wealthy family. It succeeded in forcibly driving Shamanism to the fringes of society and the monks took over the traditional Shaman roles as healers and diviners. Buddhism has not always been as peaceful as one might imagine. This tale certainly has overtures of current select Catholic or Islamic doctrine.


There are many Buddhist temples throughout Mongolia but few as large, presitgious or impressive as Gandan Khiid Monastery in Ulaanbaatar (see earlier post on Richard Gere).


It is a truly magnificent and tranquil spot where the hubub and din of the surrounding city are completely forgotten. The monks are quite a spectacle. People come here from all over simply to sit, relax and appreciate life. There should be locations like this in every city. It is the perfect place to contemplate enlightenment, even if you don't find it this time...


Mongolian of the day:- peace :: enx tajva

the shamen

I am living just outside Ulaanbaatar in a valley overlooking the city. There are a million walks from the apartment into the wilds and towards cultural allure. My favourite sojourn is a four kilometre run down the valley and along the river away from the city. Some two kilometres away is a major Shaman site. A large patch of land hosts a number of enormous timber posts. Each post is covered in predominantly blue cotton pendants that are tied to the wooden columns as offerings. It is a tranquil and mysterious place.

Shamanism believes that its practitioners, Shamen, are guides or messengers between the physical and spirit worlds. A Shaman seeking to help physical or mental illness or injury will seek to repair that persons soul. It is said that by alleviating pressure on the soul the physical body is healed. Shamen will also go into the spirit world to help communities and heal social problems. Shamanism has been practised for at least 12,000 years and is still practised widely today. It is the second religion of Mongolia after Buddhism.

Often when I pass through the site there are families of Mongolians camped near their offering. Such instances tend to signify the coming arrival of a Shaman. The Shamen seem to travel wildly as nomads. On arrival they will spend time with the families sharing food and discussing the issue at hand. The Shaman will use a rhythm, normally played on tambor, to start his journey to the spirit world. This is accompanied by chanting of the sort we grew up hearing red indians sing in coboy movies. It is a fascinating and captivating sound. I give families privacy at such times but as I walk on can hear the Shaman chanting wildly as the rhythm escalates. I am keen to know what happens during the trance; determined to know what is said; eager to unearth how it comes to pass. I may not have to wait too long. Today I was asked by a Mongolian friend whether I would like a visit with a Shaman, how can I possibly refuse...

Mongolian of the day:- good luck :: amjilt husey

the real Crazy Horse Saloon

Mongolia has its own Crazy Horse Saloon. It's a little different from the one in Paris. I prefer it; less seedy. It's outdoors and men ride right up to the bar.

Horses are everywhere in Mongolia, there are far more horses than people here. The Mongolian horse is the breed of choice. They are very different beasts from those found elsewhere. Measuring in at around 12 hands they are far shorter than their foreign cousins. They are also lighter but this does not make them weaker. On the contrary the Mongolian horse is one of the toughest beasts on the planet. They live outdoors all year round; from +40C to -40C. Closely related to the Przewalski the Mongolian horse is said to be unchanged since the time of Chinggis Khaan (Genghis to the West), and have lived on the Steppe since 2000BC, but this does not mean they are unsophisticated. Why, only yesterday I spent a lovely day with a horse called Harry and his brother Ed. They got excited when I turned up and said 'hey'.

"Just cause we's short, sir, don't mean we's weak" said Harry in a drawl that sounded like Sam Gangee. To prove his point he manfully, well horsefully, carried me far across the mountainous terrain. And I am a heavy chap. On our travels he told me a little about his family. "We has tough feet see, we don't need metal shoes like thems soft developed horses. And our tails. Our tails are special see; the manpeople use them to make violin strings. My wife, that's Edwina right, she don't like the manpeople though, they milk her and make a drink that makes them silly, they call its Airag." I had tasted the stuff, it was 'interesting' to say the least.

Harry asked me to turn off the quotes as he told me that his cousins, and many others, had been eaten by the manpeople. He doesn't like this and feels aggreived they act in this way after all the help they been given. "It was one of yous manpeople, the great Chinggis, who said it was 'easy to conquer the world from the back of a horse' and modern manpeople say that 'a Mongol without a horse is like a bird without wings'. I knows you lot does loves us though. You lot haves more songs about love for us horses than you have for your womenfolk." Strange as it may be, in Mongolia this is an accepted truth.

Mongolian of the day:- horse :: aduu

big man Chinggis rises above the Steppe

As we drove across the Steppe today we rounded a valley corner and saw a shimmer of silver on the horizon. Driving closer the silver grew and grew and grew and grew. 30 minutes later we were standing at the foot of Chinggis Khaan. Rising out of the arid land, miles and miles from anywhere, a 131 foot tall statue of the warrior Chinggis wrapped in 250 tons of glittering steel stands proudly looking out across his empire. Walking towards the gargantuan emperor I realised that the dots at the horses feet weren't crows but people. It is the biggest, and most oddly located, statue I have ever seen. It's a little like a modern day Abu Simbel. Some hate it, I thought it was incredible.

Inside the monument a museum displays ancient metalwork from the 5th century BC. The craftsmanship is outstanding. At that time Mongolia seems to have been centuries ahead of other countries in terms of culture and skill. Mongolian armour and weapons appear to have been copied by the neighbouring Chinese as they established their empire. Chinggis was the pinnacle of Mongolian power after centuries developing an awesome arsenal. Visitors can clamber inside the horses belly and walk out of Chinggis' abdomen to a splendid view across the Steppe.

I didn't have a video but found this wee clip that puts things in perspective.

The statue is the latest Mongolian venture to rediscover Chinggis. This follows almost a century of Russian occupation during which all Mongolia specific cultural, religious and intellectual matters were spurned if not burned. Flying to Ulaanbaatar you land at the Chinggis Khaan International Airport; an enormous statue of Chinggis Khaan dominates the main Sukhbaatar Square; students study at the Chinggis Khaan University and his name is used to brand a myriad of products from vodka to hotels. Mongolian people are refinding their heritage and are exceedingly proud of their most famous father.

I wonder what Chinggis would have made of it all as he stood looking out of the window contemplating his next campaign...

Mongolian of the day:-big :: tom

Chinggis Khaan, the original Mr LoverMan

When Chinggis Khaan (aka Genghis Khan, aka Mr Funky-If-Angry-Love-Stuff) set out from near Ulaanbaatar c1200 with his Mongol hordes he had two agendas. His PR people in Mongolia espoused his fond desire to establish history's biggest ever empire; stretching from the Pacific to the Med; embracing and uniting all religions. What Mr Khaan didn't tell his advisors was that all he really wanted to do was bed as many women as possible before he dropped dead. This man had hot pants.

Besides being the most formiable warrior the world has ever known Chinggis was a shrewd politican, canny diplomat and had a keen eye for the ladies. Soon into his campaign the internet was full of stories that he killed his foes before bedding their wives and daughters. There seems to have been some truth to this. His empire covered almost half the world and he is alleged to have slept with many many thousands of women. His seed travelled far and wide. A genealogical study in 2003 suggests that there are over 16m men walking the planet who are directly related to Chinggis and his wandering trousers. Chances are we can each identify a Chinggis gene candidate from amongst our friends.

Mongolian of the day:- perspire :: khols tsutgakh

people in and around Ulaanbaatar

Roughly 40% of the Mongolian population live in its capital Ulaanbaatar (some 1.2m people). About 20% live in the other various smaller towns dispersed around the vast country. The remainder are nomadic (over 1m people), that's a lot of nomads. It is a tough life that has changed little since the days of Chinggis Khaan in the 12th century. Almost all live in gers.

Gers are round thick canvas tents. They are designed to be resiliant yet transportable. Everything that needs to be done takes place inside the tent. Outdoors is often too daunting a prospect in Mongolia. Summer temperatures soar above 45C, in winter it plummets to -40C, a swing of some 80C!! The roof has a hole in its conical centre. A stove is lit in the tent for heating and cooking. Nomads sleep snuggled up together inside, take their meals together inside, undertake their ablutions and I suspect ensure the family line, all within sight and earshot of their extended family. The most important factor is warmth. Winter is the longest season and death needs to be avoided.

Despite the forced closeness family life in gers does contain its own more upbeat traditions and cultures. As is common worldwide alcohol plays an important part, generally vodka in Mongolia. Singing and playing musical instruments is surprisingly common and far more prevelant than in developed countries. It is a tough life. Herding horses and camels across the Gobi to market is not a life many can understand let alone choose. The nomads I have met remain resolutely upbeat. They know their way of life has outlived many others. They also know that the world is changing and that perhaps they are better suited than most to cope with some of the adversities that global warming will through at us.

Mongolian of the day:- cooking pot :: togoo

moving house in Ulaanbaatar

Today we found an apartment in Ulaanbaatar. The Russians took control of Mongolia from the Chinese in the 1920's. The Chinese had been long-term rulers and very unpopular with the locals. The Russians were hailed as saviours and are still regarded highly, despite Mongolia breaking free from their hold at the fall of the Soviet block. Anyway, while the Soviets were in place the Politburo (governing body of the Communist Party) needed somewhere nice to stay while they were in Mongolia. And so they built some lavish apartments in the mountains overlooking the city.

The apartments came complete with pool, sauna, snooker room, private cinema, gym, gardens and high security. It just so happens that since the fall of the Eastern Bloc these apartments have been in need of some TLC. That TLC appeared in the last few years and the apartments have recently become residence to some of the more interesting Mongolian families, as well as a couple who normally live in the Basque Country that are moving in on Friday...




Mongolian of the day:- thanks :: bayarlalaa

Louis XIV returns to St Jean de Luz

On this day 350 years ago St Jean de Luz was waking up with its biggest ever hangover. Yesterday in 1660 Louis XIV married Marie Theresa Infanta of Spain (daughter of Philip IV). This concluded the Treaty of the Pyrenees and finally brought peace between France and Spain.

The wedding took place in Eglise Saint-Jean-Baptiste and being who he was Louis XIV insisted that the door he and his wife exited by was immediately bricked up so that noone else could have a marriage like his; so pedantic.

To celebrate the anniversary St Jean de Luz has held events all week culminating in a ceremonial mass at church followed by a re-enactment of the wedding festivities. Baroque music filled the air as revellers in large hats danced around merrily. Macarons also had their first airing for the wedding 350 years ago and as such the town's principal macaron maker, Maison Adam, was offering its delicious fare to hungry onlookers.

St Jean de Luz was chosen for the wedding not simply because the weather here is so good. Louis XIV was also known as the Sun King but had more political motivation behind his choice of venue. St Jean de Luz is the exact midpoint between Paris and Madrid.

Basque of the day:- wedding :: ezkontza

recharging in St Jean de Luz

January is definitely my favourite month in St Jean de Luz. Christmas is still a happy memory, I have survived another birthday, it can only get warmer, ski-season has started and it is tranquil, beautifully so. It is the one month of the year when there are next to no tourists. Everyone is truly relaxed in their work, or on holiday. This is not entirely down to there being fewer visitors, much of it is to do with lazily recovering from excessive eating and drinking.

Christmas in the Basque country is a surprisingly social affair. On Christmas Day friends asked round for a quick aperitif that stretched into a dozen bottles of champagne, a trencher of oysters, kilo of foie gras and several langoustines; this was before lunch. Similarly, we joined friends deep in the Pyrenees for a splendid New Year's Eve supper that we hadn't quite expected to contain a dozen courses lasting as many hours. We ate, drank and partied solidly for two weeks and are only now beginning to eat again.

One of the weirder observations was the Basque version of Santa Claus. Rather than the Coca-Cola inspired fat bloke in red they have Olentzero. Dressed in black, including fetching face mask, effigies of him can be seen dreeping from windows throughout the Basque country. He bears a not uncanny resemblance to a thief and fear he may have been responsible for more than one car crash over the years. His name translates as "time of the good ones" and is said to correspond to the old feast of the winter solstice which makes him older than Christmas (which originated in 380AD as a festival). The man himself was allegedly one of the race of giants that lived in the Pyrenees in days of yore, others say he was a hero orphan raised by fairies. Whatever the origin, it is yet another pointer that Basque culture predates all others in Europe.

Anyway, it's good to be back to normal. I am just glad we have this month at the start of each year to recharge our batteries before the imminent festival season begins. Off to the beach for some fresh air, it's a tough life here...

Basque of the day:- refresh :: freskatu

remembering in St Jean de Luz

In St Jean de Luz today everything stopped at 1100. Around four hundred people met with an army squadron at the war memorial. A band accompanied several Basque hymns before the mayor addressed the gathering. Police stopped traffic while the bells tolled the eleventh hour. After the silence local school children read the names of those Basques from St Jean de Luz who have fallen fighting for the country over the last century. The squadron stood rooted throughout. Comparing the children reading out the names and those in uniform carrying guns there really seemed to be very little age difference.

I recently made a visit to Guernica/Gernika. It is a fairly average looking town that hides well the true importance and horrors of its history. For centuries the seat of the Biscayan assembly met under a giant oak tree in the centre of town. It is constantly replanted as the parent withers and has become symbolic of the traditional rights of the Basque people as a whole. The trunk of one of the original trees is now protected while its offspring take root nearby.

On April 26, 1939 Francisco Franco, frustrated by the Basques' refusal to meet his demands, used the Nazi luftwaffe to annihilate the town. The Germans used the sortie as an experiment for their terrifying incendiary bombs. The unarmed population had no hope of escape. Those that survived the bombs were mown down by pursuing fighter planes.

The massacre is remembered in Picasso's painting and more recently in a wonderful book by Dave Boling, both called Guernica.

Basque of the day:- tree :: arbola

St Jean de Luz waves

The sun came back today in St Jean de Luz, albeit fleetingly, somebody forgot to tell the sea that the storm was over though. Looking back up into the mountains I caught a glimpse of the first snow of winter. I'd hate to have been caught up there over the last week.

As I walked along the clifftops I thought about the coming week. The 70th anniversary of the beginning of WWII. It reminded me that St Jean de Luz was heavily occupied during the war and paid its own price.

Nazis came and went, drinking in the same watering holes used the C17th pirates that went before them and the tourists that came after. Perched high along the clifftops are inumerable German pill boxes, each ominously facing out to sea. Some are tiny, others enormously labyrinthine. They have been blocked up now but it is good they remain to remind us of what could have been.

During WWII the famous Comet Line passed through the Basque country into St Jean de Luz. Grounded airmen shot down behind enemy lines were helped to travel secretly through France by the Resistance. Once in St Jean de Luz they made their way through the mountain passes into Spain before being ferried back home to Britain. Many are reported to have stayed in the rooms above Le Corsair, the supposed Nazi drinking club of choice. It is a good bar.

Basque of the day:- to have a narrow escape :: ozta ihes egitea lortu

relaxed St Jean de Luz

St Jean de Luz was a hive of activity yesterday. The lads walking the streets mulitplied into a full band, Friday's Breton piper piped happily, a baroque choir sang in the street, antique cars drove through town and the church hummed with classical music. Unlike St Jean de Luz I took it easy, other than buying myself a large cake as a Sunday treat.

Today has seen a return of the fine weather. The beach is nice and quiet after the summer so on days like today the Luziens take full advantage, congregating on the sand to catch up on local gossip and enjoy a glass or two of wine.

I went for a lovely stroll this evening ending up at the far end of the beach. Here the Nivelle river flows out to the Atlantic. On one side is St Jean de Luz, on the other the town of Ciboure. It is a lovely wee place that has less of the pomp of its neighbour but is equally charming and resolutely Basque. It is also where Maurice Ravel was born (in the large stone house pictured that looks less Basque than the others).

Basque of the day:- quiet :: isil

Willy Wonka in St Jean de Luz

Today we move outside of St Jean de Luz. Cadbury, the UK chocolate company that inspired Willy Wonka, has been under fire this week from Kraft of America (they make processed cheese and stuff) who made a hostile bid for the company.

The British do love their chocolate. Locals in St Jean de Luz are often amazed at the plethora of confectionery on offer in UK shops. Basques are also chocolate experts. They claim they were importing cocoa, making and exporting chocolate before anyone else in Europe, even the Belgians.

Cadbury is one of those rare brands that people grow up loving and not just people in the UK. Even the French have a soft (centred) spot for the company and are aghast at the American overture (I can't imagine the French government allowing this to have even reached the table were it a French company). Despite centuries of war and verbal wrangling chocolate seems to be finally bringing people together on a united front. I am sure Willy Wonka and his oompa loompas would be impressed. I also suspect that if John Cadbury had a time machine in his shop back in 1824 he would have a wry smile on his face.

It is a robust, innovative company that makes my favourite treat (Dariy Milk), may the ghosts of Bournville and Wonka's chocolate factory rise up and safeguard its heritage.

Basque of the day:- defence :: defendatze

carnaval Basque

Over the last few weeks lots of Luziennes (St Jean de Luz locals) have been running around in traditional costume. Only this morning there were 20 or so youngsters beneath my terrace dancing in a circle and singing merrily to accordian accompaniment. I have asked several friends what it all means. The answer I tend to get is simply that "it's the carnaval". At my Flemenco class today I decided to enquire further.It transpires that 'carnavals' take place throughout February in the many different towns of the Basque country and date back to different customs and legends. Some carnavals relate to the waking of the bear, others to the arrival of gypsy travellers or to eminent sorcerers. All are celebrated through a mixture of song, dance, music, revelry and that most popular of Basque customs, eating.

The carnavals play an important part in keeping alive aspects of culture that remain firmly rooted in the psyche of local people. The largest event takes place next weekend in a wee town called Tolosa across the border in northern Spain some 45 minutes from St Jean de Luz.

Basque of the day:- celebration :: ospatze

the numbers game

We have been here for a little over four months and are already becoming known, hopefully for good reasons. Each time I walk around town I am guaranteed to meet someone to talk to. Though this is lovely I was embarassed today when I snuck out for my first cigarette in months and bumped into one of our close friends on the school run. Knowing and being known is double-edged, but if the rough edge means I stop completely then no bad thing.

The population of St Jean de Luz is somewhere in the region of 14,000 although this trebles in the summer months. Similarly Biarritz has some 30,000 full time residents though 120,000 in July and August. The French Basque region has a population of c270,000, 30% of whom speak Basque. The entire Basque population (French and Spanish) is nearer 2.1m and the region extends some 21k square kilometres, about the same size as Wales but with less sheep and better weather.Basque of the day:- people :: jende