Spain Before Portugal 2018

I had to be in Barcelona for a LabourStart exec meeting and a meetup with some comrades from UGT and CCOO.  It came up after Geri and I had booked our month in Portugal and it left a blank spot of a week between when the LabourStart stuff ended and when Geri would be arriving in Faro.

The LabourStart meetings were very productive, our first ever meatspace session as opposed to cyberspace meetings.  Just as importantly I was able to arrange, at different times, for everyone to take the Civil War walking tour offered by Nick and Catherine.  Details HERE.  It got, as expected, rave reviews.  The Norwegian member of the executive actually used an exclamation point in a message he sent about it.  A rave.

Next up was Madrid.  I made a virtue of necessity (limited budget) and gave myself a nostalgia treat by staying in a hostel.  Mostly fun as I had a room and not a bunk.  Even had my own sink or ‘tippytoe urinal’.  Though someone did steal my soap from the shared bathroom.

Saw some monuments, though the one to the union lawyers who were assassinated by the military just as the dictatorship was ending was in a small square that was being torn up.  I got some photos but none are very good.

I took the Civil War walking tour offered by the woman who is the executive director of the NGO there that honours the memory of the International Brigade members by funding research, running a library and making sure that monuments and graves are maintained.

That tour was very different from the one Nick does but it was also fab.  Details HERE.  At the university where the Brigade monument is was the front line at the south edge of the city.  You can still see the damage in some of the buildings and shell casings are all over the place even now.

The medical faculty where Norman Bethune did his development work is still there and apparently there is a plaque inside but the building is not open to the public.

There are some pillboxes built by the fascists when they crossed into the campus led by a bunch of Italian tanks.  They were to protect the bridge while the Italians got their tanks across.  The bridgehead lasted about a week, I think.

When looking for them (I was on my own at this point) I noticed hundreds of buses parked on both sides of the road leading from the bridge to the university.  At the end of the road is a huge stone triumphal arch.

When I figured it out it was kinda creepy.

That day was the day celebrated in the US as Colombus Day.  In Spain is it a national holiday marking when Spanish language and culture and all that good shit went out into the world to enlighten it.  Made a holiday by Franco as part of his re-branding of fascism as ‘Catholic Nationalism’.

The buses were full of fascist party members come to the capital for a parade.  Marching, in semi-informs many of them.  And it started at the arch I saw, which had been built by Franco after the Loyalists lost the war to mark his victory.

The day before I had arrived by very high speed train from Barcelona and had taken a hop-on, hop-off bus tour.  A good way to orient yourself I find and so I make a habit of them.

All over the centre of the city were bleachers along the main boulevards.  LOTS of bleachers.

The blackshirts parade had a huge crowd watching and cheering.  And returning to the university to catch the metro back to my hostal I noticed a lot of pro-fascist graffiti.  The tour guide had earlier mentioned that the uni had a large student fascist club.

On a much lighter and brighter note, I pulled my ‘hi, I’m in town for a few days, will trade lunch for a short orientation to the labour movement of your country’ schtick at the national HQ of the CCOO.  As sometimes happens the guard at the door had some trouble figuring out what I was (I try to dress reasonably when doing this as it makes getting past the guards most European union offices seem to have a lot easier) but once he did he seemed kinda pleased to see me.

But as they don’t have a waiting area downstairs I was asked to trot up the road 50 metres and wait in a bar.  A horrible imposition but there I was so….  As it turned out there were other people there without an appointment or who had for some reason been sent to the bar rather than up the elevator.  They were enjoying some red when someone came to fetch them.  A kind someone who chatted with them while they finished their wine at a reasonable pace.

When I was called I wound up with coffee rather than wine but a translator (not really needed) and two of the staff who had been partly responsiblke for the organizing of the national strike by 50 million Spanish women the year before on IWD.

That was a downright amazing couple of hours.  AMAZING.

The second very high speed train ride took me to Seville.

Great hotel, recommended.  I got a special as they were empty but even at their regular price a good value very pretty spot.  Though driving to it might be a problem on anything wider than a scooter.  Other than that…mmmm….  The CNT office was closed, the CCOO office was running on adrenaline about something I could not figure out.  Might have coloured my impression of the city after Madrid.

There being no cross-border rail service between Portugal and Spain, I took a 2.5 hour bus trip to Faro Airport.  It was fine.

I got our rental car, did some shopping, unpacked a bit and was back at the airport to meet Geri when she arrived. 

LabourStart Exec photos HERE.

Barcelona wanderings photos HERE.

Madrid photos HERE.

Seville hotos HERE.