Friday, 18 September 2026

Berets and Spanish dogs

 


I remember someone admitting

that all they could remember from War and Peace

was the story of a policeman tied to the back of a bear

and thrown into the canal.


And having read the Eye Witness guide to San Sebastian

on a flight from Dublin to Bilbao

and tasted, on arrival, the city's Top Ten 

and a plate or two of pintxos,


I have to admit that the daily highlight for me 

was the fellow at the corner cafe,

his black txpela, finger softened to a peaked front

speaking basque to his dog

as he sipped his cafe solo.


A caricature almost of a Basque separatist,

lean to the point of wiry, or visa versa,

nonchalant to the point of dour.


And given my own Celtic ancestry

I bought myself a beret,

or rather several of them


But failed to create the same effect-

lacking perhaps the required fluency in Gaelic,

the correct amount of finger dexterity,

never mind the dog,

and not forgetting my complete lack of nonchalance.



Copyright 2026 Cathy Leonard

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