Direm la veritat, sense repòs, per l'honor de servir, sota els peus de tots.
Detestem els grans ventres, els grans mots, la indecent parenceria de l'or, les cartes mal donades de la sort, el fum espès d'encens al poderós.
És ara vil el poble de senyors, s'ajup en el seu odi com un gos, lladra de lluny, de prop admet bastó, enllà del fang segueix camins de mort.
Amb la cançó bastim en la foscor altes parets de somni, a recer d'aquest torb.
Ve per la nit remor de moltes fonts: anem tancant les portes a la por.
We shall speak the truth, without respite, for the honour of serving, beneath the feet of all.
We despise swollen bellies, lofty words, the shameless glitter of gold, the crooked cards dealt out by fate, the heavy smoke of incense offered to the mighty.
Now the people of lords have grown ignoble: they crouch within their hatred like a dog, bark from afar, yet from nearby accept the whip; beyond the mire they still pursue the roads of death.
With song we build, within the darkness, high walls of dreams, a shelter from this storm.
Through the night comes the murmur of countless springs: we keep closing the doors against fear.
The Grandma loves tennis very much, and that is why today she has been reading about Wimbledon -one of the most prestigious tournaments, with a fascinating history- which began on this day in 1877.
Today, Wimbledon is regarded as the most prestigious tennis tournament in the world.Every summer, millions of fans follow the Championships as the greatest players compete on the famous grass courts of the All England Club. White clothing, strawberries and cream, royal traditions and Centre Court have become symbols recognized across the globe. Yet everything began in a remarkably modest way.
The first Wimbledon Championship, held in July 1877, was not created to establish the world's greatest tennis tournament. It was organized for a far more practical reason: to raise enough money to repair a worn-out pony roller used to maintain the club's lawns. No one involved could have imagined that this local competition would eventually become the oldest and most prestigious tournament in tennis history.
To understand the importance of the 1877 Championship, it is necessary to look back at the origins of lawn tennis itself. The All England Croquet Clubhad been founded in Wimbledon, southwest London, in 1868. During the Victorian era, croquet enjoyed enormous popularity among Britain's upper and middle classes. However, fashions changed quickly, and by the middle of the 1870s enthusiasm for croquet had begun to decline.
Around the same time, a new outdoor sport was capturing public attention. Inspired by the ancient indoor game of real tennis, lawn tennis offered a faster and more accessible alternative that could be played on grass. Recognizing the growing popularity of this new sport, the club introduced lawn tennis in 1875 and soon renamed itself the All England Croquet and Lawn Tennis Club. The decision would transform not only the club's future but also the history of sport itself.
In June 1877, the committee faced a practical problem. The club owned a heavy pony roller used to flatten and maintain the grass courts. After years of use, it required expensive repairs, and the committee needed additional funds. Instead of increasing membership fees, they decided to organize a tennis competition. Each participant would pay an entrance fee of one guinea, while spectators would purchase admission tickets. The resulting income would cover the repairs. From this simple financial decision emerged what is now recognized as the first official lawn tennis championship and, retrospectively, the first Grand Slam tournament.
Although lawn tennis already existed, its rules were still evolving. Only two years earlier, in 1875, the Marylebone Cricket Club had published one of the earliest standardized versions of the game's regulations. The Wimbledon organizers adapted these rules, modifying several aspects to make competition more practical. The court was different from the one used today. Its dimensions varied slightly, the net was higher than the modern version, and the service rules also differed considerably. Even the shape of the court reflected the experimentation typical of a sport that was still defining its identity. Following the tournament, the organizers carefully reviewed what had worked well and what had not. Their conclusions led to important modifications, especially concerning court dimensions, many of which became permanent features of the sport. Thus, the inaugural Championship did not simply crown a champion -it helped establish the foundations of modern tennis.
The tournament began on 9 July 1877. Unlike today's Championships,there was only one event: the Gentlemen's Singles. No women's competition existed, nor were there doubles or mixed doubles events. Twenty-two amateur players entered the draw, each paying one guinea for the privilege of competing. The event took place on outdoor grass courts at the club's original Worple Road grounds in Wimbledon, long before the move to Church Road, where the Championships are still held today. The atmosphere was informal compared with modern standards. There were no television cameras, sponsorship deals, electronic scoreboards or international media. Instead, local spectators gathered around the courts to watch what was still considered an experimental sporting event.
Even during its very first edition, Wimbledon experienced something that would become one of its defining characteristics: rain. Persistent bad weather delayed the final by three days. The tournament schedule was also interrupted because the organizers wished to avoid clashing with the prestigious Eton versus Harrow cricket match at Lord's Cricket Ground, one of England's major sporting occasions. This decision illustrates the social hierarchy of Victorian sport. Cricket remained the nation's premier summer pastime, while lawn tennis was still establishing itself. Only later would Wimbledon become one of Britain's greatest sporting traditions in its own right.
The inaugural Wimbledon champion was Spencer Gore. Born in London, Gore was twenty-seven years old when he entered the tournament. Although remembered today primarily as a tennis player, he was also an accomplished rackets player and an excellent cricketer. His background proved particularly valuable. Many early tennis competitors came from rackets or real tennis, sports requiring quick reflexes and precise volleying skills. Throughout the tournament, Gore demonstrated an aggressive attacking style that differed significantly from many of his contemporaries. Rather than remaining at the baseline, he frequently rushed toward the net, volleying whenever possible. This tactic surprised many observers. In an era when players often preferred longer rallies from the back of the court, Gore believed attacking was the future of tennis. History proved him correct. Modern grass-court tennis would eventually become famous for its emphasis on serving and volleying, a style pioneered by players like Gore.
Gore's opponent in the final was William Marshall, another highly respected player of the period. Marshall had established himself as one of Britain's strongest competitors and reached the championship match after a series of impressive victories. Interestingly, before the final, a separate match determined second place in the tournament. Marshall defeated Charles Gilbert Heathcote to earn the right to challenge Gore in the championship match. Although this format seems unusual today, it reflected the experimental nature of early sporting competitions.
The final finally took place on 19 July 1877. Approximately 200 spectators attended, each paying one shilling for admission. By modern standards, this crowd seems tiny. Today, Wimbledon welcomes hundreds of thousands of visitors every year, while millions more watch around the world. Yet those 200 spectators witnessed one of the most important moments in sporting history. Gore dominated the match from beginning to end. He defeated Marshall 6-1, 6-2, 6-4 in just forty-eight minutes. The victory made Spencer Gore the first Wimbledon champion. Remarkably, it would also remain the only major title of his career.
Winning Wimbledon in 1877 did not bring fame or enormous wealth. Thechampion received twelve guineas in prize money together with a silver Challenge Cup valued at twenty-five guineas. The trophy had been donated by The Field, a popular British sporting magazine. Compared with today's multi-million-pound prize fund, the rewards appear almost symbolic. However, for amateur Victorian sportsmen, prestige often mattered more than financial gain. Professionalism was still viewed with suspicion in many British sports. Victory represented honour, social recognition and sporting excellence rather than commercial success.
From the club's perspective, the tournament achieved exactly what had been intended. After covering expenses, the Championship generated a profit of approximately ten pounds. Most importantly, the money paid for the repair of the damaged pony roller. No one could have imagined that this small fundraising event would eventually become one of the world's most valuable sporting competitions. Today, Wimbledon generates hundreds of millions of pounds in revenue and stands among the most recognizable sporting brands anywhere on Earth.
One of the most significant outcomes of the inaugural tournament was not the identity of the winner but the lessons learned. The organizers carefully studied the matches and evaluated how the rules influenced play. They concluded that certain aspects of the court encouraged excessive net play while others created unnecessary tactical limitations. As a result, modifications were introduced after the tournament, particularly regarding the dimensions of the court. Many historians consider these adjustments essential steps in the development of modern tennis. Rather than viewing the rules as fixed, Wimbledon demonstrated a willingness to refine the sport through observation and experience. This practical approach helped shape tennis into the game we recognize today.
The success of the first Championship encouraged the club to repeat the event annually. Over time, additional competitions were introduced. Ladies'Singles and Gentlemen's Doubles appeared in 1884, while Ladies' Doubles and Mixed Doubles followed in 1913. The Championships gradually attracted stronger players, larger crowds and increasing international attention. As tennis spread across Europe, North America and eventually the rest of the world, Wimbledon became the sport's most prestigious destination. Even after the emergence of the Australian Open, the French Championships and the U.S. Championships, Wimbledon retained a unique aura rooted in tradition.
The original 1877 tournament was held at the club's Worple Road grounds. These courts bore little resemblance to today's magnificent complex. In 1922, the Championships moved to Church Road, where the famous Centre Court became the symbolic heart of world tennis. Modern spectators experience retractable roofs, electronic line-calling technology, giant scoreboards and seating for thousands of fans. Despite these innovations, the Championships continue to preserve many traditions dating back to Victorian Britain. Players still wear predominantly white clothing. The grass courts remain central to the tournament's identity. Royal patronage continues. The emphasis on etiquette and sportsmanship survives. These traditions help explain why Wimbledon occupies such a special place in sporting culture.
Curiously, Spencer Gore himself did not believe tennis represented the future. Years later, he reportedly described lawn tennis as rather boring and suggested that baseline play would eventually dominate the sport, making it less exciting. Ironically, his own attacking game became one of the defining characteristics of grass-court tennis for more than a century. Champions such as John McEnroe, Martina Navratilova, Stefan Edberg, Boris Becker and Pete Sampras all embraced aggressive serve-and-volley tactics that echoed Gore's pioneering style. Although modern tennis has evolved once again toward powerful baseline play, Gore's influence remains an important chapter in the sport's tactical history.
Many sporting competitions claim long histories, but few can trace their origins to such a clearly documented beginning. The 1877 Wimbledon Championship marked far more than the first edition of a tournament. It represented the moment when lawn tennis began its transformation from a fashionable pastime into an organized international sport. The event introduced standardized competition. It demonstrated that tennis could attract paying spectators. It generated written records, formal administration and continuous annual organization. These characteristics helped distinguish lawn tennis from many recreational games of the nineteenth century. Within only a few decades, the sport had spread across continents. National championships emerged in numerous countries, international rivalries developed and Wimbledon became the benchmark against which all other tournaments were measured.
Looking back nearly a century and a half later, it is remarkable how modest everything seemed in July 1877. Twenty-two amateur competitors. A single event. A crowd of around two hundred people. A repaired lawn roller as the financial objective. Yet from these humble beginnings emerged one of the greatest sporting institutions in history. Every Wimbledon champion, from William Renshaw and Suzanne Lenglen to Roger Federer, SerenaWilliams and Novak Djokovic, owes something to that pioneering tournament held on the grass courts of Worple Road.
The inaugural Championship demonstrated that careful organization, sporting excellence and respect for tradition could create an event capable of enduring for generations. What began as a local fundraising competition ultimately became the oldest tennis tournament in the world, the first major championship in the history of the sport, and one of the most celebrated annual events on the global sporting calendar.
More than simply crowning Spencer Gore as its first winner, the 1877 Wimbledon Championship laid the foundations of modern tennis itself—a legacy that continues every summer when players step onto the grass courts and compete for one of the most coveted titles in sport.
(Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely And you're never coming 'round (Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit tired Of listening to the sound of my tears (Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit nervous That the best of all the years have gone by (Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit terrified And then I see the look in your eyes
(Turn around, bright eyes) Every now and then, I fall apart (Turn around, bright eyes) Every now and then, I fall apart
(Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit restless And I dream of something wild (Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit helpless And I'm lying like a child in your arms (Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit angry And I know I've got to get out and cry (Turn around) Every now and then, I get a little bit terrified But then I see the look in your eyes
(Turn around, bright eyes) Every now and then, I fall apart (Turn around, bright eyes) Every now and then, I fall apart
And I need you now tonight And I need you more than ever And if you only hold me tight We'll be holding on forever And we'll only be making it right 'Cause we'll never be wrong Together, we can take it to the end of the line Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (All of the time) I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks I really need you tonight Forever's gonna start tonight Forever's gonna start tonight
Once upon a time, I was falling in love But now I'm only falling apart There's nothing I can do A total eclipse of the heart Once upon a time, there was light in my life But now there's only love in the dark Nothing I can say A total eclipse of the heart (Turn around, bright eyes) (Turn around, bright eyes)
(Turn around) Every now and then, I know you'll never be the boy You always wanted to be (Turn around) But every now and then, I know you'll always be the only boy Who wanted me the way that I am (Turn around) Every now and then, I know there's no one in the universe As magical and wondrous as you (Turn around) Every now and then, I know there's nothing any better There's nothing that I just wouldn't do
(Turn around, bright eyes) Every now and then, I fall apart (Turn around, bright eyes) Every now and then, I fall apart
And I need you now tonight (And I need you) And I need you more than ever And if you only hold me tight (If you love me) We'll be holding on forever And we'll only be making it right (And we'll never) 'Cause we'll never be wrong Together, we can take it to the end of the line Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (All of the time) I don't know what to do, I'm always in the dark We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks I really need you tonight Forever's gonna start tonight (Forever's gonna start tonight)
Once upon a time, I was falling in love But now I'm only falling apart Nothing I can do A total eclipse of the heart Once upon a time, there was light in my life But now there's only love in the dark Nothing I can say A total eclipse of the heart A total eclipse of the heart A total eclipse of the heart
Whenever I sing 'Total Eclipse of the Heart,' the way people sing along with me still excites me. It's one of the songs that audiences know all the lyrics to, and they sing along with me, and it makes me so happy.
Today, Claire Fontaine and TheGrandma have decided to celebrate WorldChocolate Day by visiting the Museu de la Xocolata de Barcelona, a fascinating space that tells the story of this very special food.
World Chocolate Day, or just Chocolate Day, is an annual celebration of chocolate, occurring globally on 7 July, which some suggest to be the anniversary of the introduction of chocolate to Europe in 1550.
The observance of WorldChocolate Day dates back to 2009 and is not to be confused with International Chocolate Day.
Other Chocolate Day celebrations exist, such as National Chocolate Day in the United States on 28 October. The U.S. National Confectioners Association lists 13 September as International Chocolate Day, coinciding with the birth date of Milton S. Hershey (13 September 1857). Ghana, the third largest producer of cocoa, celebrates Chocolate Day on 14 February. In Latvia, World Chocolate Day is celebrated on 11 July.
The U.S. National Confectioners Association lists four primary chocolate holidays on their calendar (Chocolate Day (7 July), two National Chocolate Days (28 October and 28 December), and International Chocolate Day (13 September)).
Hidden in the heart of Barcelona's charming El Born district, elMuseu de la Xocolata (Chocolate Museum) is much more than a paradise for chocolate lovers. It offers visitors an engaging journey through the fascinating history of one of the world's most beloved foods, from its sacred origins in the Americas to its place in modern European culture.
Chocolate first arrived in Europe during the 16th century after the Spanish conquest of the Americas. The cacao bean had been highly valued by civilizations such as the Maya and the Aztecs, who considered it both a precious commodity and a ceremonial drink. Through Spain, chocolate gradually spread across the continent, becoming a luxury enjoyed by European royal courts before eventually becoming accessible to everyone.
Barcelona played an important role in this story. As one of the Mediterranean's great trading ports, the city became a gateway for cacao arriving from the New World. Over the centuries, Catalonia developed a rich tradition of chocolate making, with family-owned workshops producing everything from drinking chocolate to beautifully crafted confectionery.
El Museu de la Xocolata celebrates this heritage through a collection that combines history, art, culture, and craftsmanship. Visitors can discover how cacao is cultivated, learn about the chocolate-making process, and explore the evolution of packaging, advertising, and chocolate consumption through the centuries.
One of the museum's most distinctive attractions is its extraordinary collection of chocolate sculptures. Master chocolatiers have recreated famous monuments, fairy-tale characters, historical figures, and scenes from popular culture entirely in chocolate. These detailed creations highlight the remarkable artistic skills required to transform chocolate into genuine works of art.
The museum is also closely connected to Barcelona's culinary identity. It is managed by the Barcelona Confectioners' Guild, whose members have preserved the city's long-standing pastry traditions while continuing to innovate. Throughout the year, workshops and demonstrations allow visitors of all ages to experience the creativity behind chocolate craftsmanship.
A visit to el Museu de la Xocolata is both educational and delicious. Whether you are interested in history, gastronomy, or simply looking for a unique experience, the museum offers an enjoyable glimpse into how a humble cacao bean became one of the world's most treasured delicacies.
In a city celebrated for Antoni Gaudí's architecture, medieval streets, and Mediterranean atmosphere, el Museu de la Xocolata provides a different perspective on Barcelona -one where history, culture, and sweetness come together in every bite.
Chocolate is proof that history can be tasted and Claire Fontaine and TheGrandma are ready to do it.
On this day in 1907, in Coyoacán, Ciudad de México, Frida Kahlo -the iconic painter of Mexico's national and indigenous traditions- was born.
The Grandma wants to talk about one of the paintings that fascinates her most: Las Dos Fridas (The Two Fridas), a portrait that speaks of identity, love, and resilience.
Painted in 1939, Las Dos Fridasis one of Frida Kahlo's most celebrated masterpieces and one of the defining works of twentieth-century art.
Created shortly after her divorce from Diego Rivera, the painting reflects a period of profound emotional turmoil while exploring themes of identity, duality, cultural heritage, and personal resilience.
Although Kahlo often rejected the label of Surrealism, insisting that she painted her own reality rather than dreams, Las Dos Fridas possesses an unmistakably dreamlike atmosphere. It transforms deeply personal experiences into universal symbols, inviting viewers to reflect on love, loss, and the complexity of the human self.
The year 1939 marked a turning point in Frida Kahlo's life. After years of a passionate yet turbulent marriage, she and Diego Rivera divorced. Their relationship had been marked by mutual admiration, infidelities, reconciliation, and emotional dependence. The separation deeply affected Kahlo, who turned to painting as a means of understanding her pain.
At the same time, Mexico was undergoing an intense period of cultural nationalism following the Mexican Revolution. Artists sought to celebrate indigenous traditions and redefine Mexican identity. Kahlo embraced this movement by proudly incorporating traditional Tehuana clothing and indigenous symbolism into her work, while also acknowledging her European ancestry inherited from her German father.
Las Dos Fridas was the first large-scale painting Kahlo created and remains one of the most ambitious works of her career.
At first glance, the composition is strikingly symmetrical. Two versions of Frida sit side by side against a turbulent, storm-filled sky. They hold hands, establishing an immediate emotional connection despite their contrasting appearances.
The Frida on the left wears an elegant white Victorian-style European dress. Her heart is exposed, enlarged, and visibly damaged. A surgical clamp attempts to stop the bleeding from a severed artery that drips onto her white skirt, staining it with blood. This figure is often interpreted as the Frida rejected by Diego Rivera or as the part of her identity connected to her European heritage.
The Frida on the right wears the colourful Tehuana costume from southern Mexico, clothing that Rivera particularly admired. Her heart appears intact, and she holds a miniature portrait of Rivera as a child. The artery connecting the portrait to her heart symbolizes the emotional bond that continued to unite them despite their separation.
Running between the two figures is a single vein that links their exposed hearts, visually suggesting that these are not two different women but two inseparable aspects of the same identity. The circulation of blood becomes both a literal anatomical feature and a metaphor for memory, love, suffering, and survival.
The background contributes significantly to the painting's emotional impact. The dark, swirling clouds create a sense of psychological tension, while the absence of any landscape isolates the figures in an undefined emotional space. The focus remains entirely on the dialogue between the two selves.
Kahlo masterfully combines scientific precision with emotional symbolism. Her lifelong medical experiences following the devastating bus accident she suffered at the age of eighteen gave her an intimate familiarity with anatomy. Hearts, veins, blood, and surgical instruments appear throughout her work not merely as medical references but as visual expressions of emotional pain.
The dual self-portrait has inspired numerous interpretations. It has been understood as a dialogue between Kahlo's European and Mexican identities, between the woman loved and the woman abandoned, between emotional vulnerability and inner strength, or between public appearance and private suffering. Rather than offering a single explanation, Kahlo allows these meanings to coexist.
The painting also reflects her remarkable resilience. Although one Frida bleeds, neither figure appears defeated. Both stare directly at the viewer with calm dignity, transforming personal grief into an affirmation of endurance.
Technically, Las Dos Fridas demonstrates Kahlo's exceptional attention to detail. The delicate rendering of fabrics contrasts with the raw realism of the exposed hearts and arteries. The crisp outlines, balanced composition, and almost photographic precision reveal influences ranging from Mexican folk art to Renaissance portraiture.
Colour plays a symbolic role throughout the painting. The brilliant white dress emphasizes innocence and vulnerability while making the bloodstains even more dramatic. The rich earth tones and vibrant embroidery of the Tehuanacostume reinforce Kahlo's connection to Mexican culture and identity.
Unlike many modern artists of her time who embraced abstraction, Kahlo maintained a highly figurative style. Every object within the composition carries symbolic weight, making the painting simultaneously intimate, narrative, and deeply psychological.
Today, Las Dos Fridas stands as one of the most iconic self-portraits in art history. More than a depiction of heartbreak, it is an exploration of identity, cultural belonging, emotional complexity, and survival. Nearly a century after its creation, the painting continues to resonate with audiences because it reminds us that human identity is rarely singular. We all contain multiple versions of ourselves -shaped by love, loss, memory, and hope- and Kahlo captures that universal truth with extraordinary honesty.
The heatwave in Barcelona is stifling. The Grandma doesn't feel like doing anything except drinking and eating ice cream and salads.
One option would be to go to the beach, but she risks getting sunstroke; so she has decided to stay home listening to music, choosing one of the all-time greats -the King of Rock'n'Roll, Elvis Presley- who recorded his first single, That's All Right, at SunRecords in Memphis, Tennessee, on this day in 1954.
That's All Right is a song written and originally performed by the American blues singer Arthur Crudup, andrecorded in 1946. It was rereleased in early March 1949 by RCA Victor under the title That's All Right, Mama, which was issued as RCA's first rhythm and blues record on its new 45 rpm single format.
That's All Right is best known as the debut single recorded and released by Elvis Presley.
Presley's version was recorded on July 5, 1954, and released on July 19, 1954, with Blue Moon of Kentucky as the B-side. It was ranked number 112 on the 2010 Rolling Stone magazine list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. Several critics have cited Presley's version as a candidate for the first rock and roll record.
In July 2004, exactly 50 years after it was first released, the song was re-released as a CD single in several countries, including the United Kingdom, where it reached number three.
In 1998, Presley's recording was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.
The song was written by Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup, and originally recorded by him in Chicago on September 6, 1946, as That's All Right. Some of the lyrics are traditional blues verses first recorded by Blind Lemon Jefferson in 1926. Crudup's recording was released as a single in May of 1947 on RCA Victor 20-2205, but was less successful than some of his previous recordings. One of the experts who consider the Crudup recording to be the first rock and roll song is Southeastern Louisiana University rock historian Joseph Burns, who adds that this song could contain the first ever guitar solo break.
At the same session, Crudup recorded a virtually identical tune with different lyrics, I Don't Know It, which was also released as a single (RCA Victor 20-2307). In early March 1949, the song was rereleased under the title That's All Right, Mama (RCA Victor 50-0000), which was issued as RCA's first rhythm and blues record on its new 45 rpm single format, on bright orange vinyl.
Elvis Presley's version was recorded in July 1954. While recording an album as part of a trio called the Blue Moon Boys, the band played That's All Right in between takes, and the uptempo style characteristic of rockabilly caught the attention of studio executive Sam Phillips, who asked for a refinement of the interpretation that was later recorded. Its catalogue number was Sun 209. The song was released under its original title, That's All Right, and names the performers as Elvis Presley, Scotty, and Bill. The Presley version was not identical to Crudup's since it was at least twice as fast as the original. Hisversion is considered by some music critics as one of the records that was the first in the rock n'roll genre.
Arthur Crudup was credited as the composer on the label of Presley's single, but despite legal battles into the 1970s, reportedly never received royalties. An out-of-court settlement was supposed to pay Crudup an estimated $60,000 in back royalties, but never materialized. Crudup had used lines in his song that had been present in earlier blues recordings, including Blind Lemon Jefferson's 1926 song That Black Snake Moan.
A 2004 article in The Guardian argues that rather than Presley's version being one of the first records of rock and roll, it was simply one of the first white artists' interpretations of a sound already well-established by black musicians almost a decade before [...] a raucous, driving, unnamed variant of rhythm and blues. A country music version by Marty Robbins peaked at number seven on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart in 1955.
Rolling Stone magazine argued in a 2004 article that Presley's recording of That's All Right was the first rock-and-roll record. That's All Right has been recorded by numerous artists in a variety of genres.
El meu país és l’Empordà, la seva gent, les seves places, del surrealisme de Dalí al paladar del ben servit. El meu país és l’Empordà.
No deixis mai de caminar, els seus camins deixen petjada. Ningú no espera marxar mai, i qui marxa sempre escriu: que bonic és tornar a casa.
I com vesteix la primavera als jardins del paradís, com llueixen les albades a dalt del Montgrí.
El meu país és l’Empordà, soc fill de la tramuntana que despentina tots els pins, impossible d’aturar, tan salvatge i indomable.
Aquí descansa l’aigua blava quan el cel es torna nit i respira el mar tranquil des del port pelegrí
El meu país és l’Empordà entre vinyes i pomers de Port-bou a Sant Feliu. El meu país es l’Empordà.
El meu país és l’Empordà ningú no espera marxar mai, i qui marxa sempre escriu: que bonic és tornar a casa. My homeland is Empordà, its people and its village squares, from Dalí's world of surreal dreams to the pleasures of a generous table. My homeland is Empordà.
Never stop walking here; its paths will always leave their mark. No one ever plans to leave, and those who do always write: How beautiful it is to come back home.
How spring adorns itself in the gardens of paradise, how the dawns shine brightly high upon Montgrí.
My homeland is Empordà. I am a child of the Tramuntana, the northern wind that tousles every pine, impossible to hold back, so wild and untamed.
Here the blue waters come to rest when the sky turns into night, and the peaceful sea breathes softly from the pilgrim harbour.
My homeland is Empordà, among vineyards and apple orchards, from Portbou to Sant Feliu. My homeland is Empordà.
My homeland is Empordà. No one ever plans to leave, and those who do always write: How beautiful it is to come back home.
El meu país és l’Empordà ningú no espera marxar mai, i qui marxa sempre escriu: que bonic és tornar a casa.
My homeland is Empordà. No one ever plans to leave, and those who do always write: How beautiful it is to come back home.
I ara que les hores de llum s'escurcen se m'acaben les paraules per dir-te el que tinc a dins.
Al carrer la gent defuig les cares les mirades miren aspres els veïns son uns cretins.
Ulls encadenats a les pantalles ningú corre al crit d'ajuda ningú s'asseu al costat.
Caminant entre ànimes porugues calculades benvingudes silenciosa hostilitat.
Pots provar d'enganyar la tristesa, però si no la comparteixes no li guanyaràs el joc.
Enyoro la teva companyia i la teva geografia m'hipnotitza com el foc.
Pots provar d'enganyar la tristesa, però si no la comparteixes no li esquivaràs el cop.
Enyoro la teva companyia i la teva geografia m'hipnotitza com el foc.
And now that the daylight hours grow shorter, I'm running out of words to tell you what's inside me.
Out on the streets, people avoid each other's faces, their eyes have turned so harsh, the neighbours are all jerks.
Eyes are chained to glowing screens, no one runs toward a cry for help, no one sits down by your side.
Walking through a crowd of timid souls, carefully measured welcomes, silent hostility.
You can try to fool your sadness, but if you don't share it, you'll never win the game.
I miss your company, and the landscape of your body; it hypnotizes me like fire.
You can try to fool your sadness, but if you don't share it, you won't dodge its blow. I miss your company, and the landscape of your body; it hypnotizes me like fire.
Enyoro la teva companyia i la teva geografia m'hipnotitza com el foc.
I miss your company, and the landscape of your body; it hypnotizes me like fire.
Today, The Grandma has spent the day enjoying reading with one of her great friends, Corto Maltese. She has chosen Favola di Venezia, a fantastic graphic novel by HugoPratt that serves as a true tribute to that wonderful, dreamlike city.
Favola di Venezia (or Sirat al Bunduqiyyah) is a Corto Maltese comic story written and illustrated by Hugo Pratt in 1977.
It is the 25th adventure of Corto Maltese in chronological order (24th in publication order). The story is set in Venice between 10 and 25 April 1921.
Both titles, Favola di Venezia and Sirat al Bunduqiyyah (Arabic for The Story of Venice), have been used over the years, either together or separately, depending on the edition of the work.
Favola di Venezia was first published in serial form (eight strips per week) in the weekly magazine L'Europeo, from issue no. 21/22 (3 June 1977) to issue no. 51 (23December 1977). The colouring was by Mariolina Pasqualini, while Guido Fuga assisted Hugo Pratt with the architectural drawings.
Two years later, the story was published as a single-volume edition by Milano Libri under the title Sirat Al Bunduqiyyah, in a horizontal format. In 1984, it was reissued in a square format, enriched with an introduction by Pratt himself and two articles on Freemasonry.
In 1997, Lizard Edizioni republished the work in its Bibliothèque series as the complete and definitive edition, featuring new colouring by Patrizia Zanotti. The introduction to this complete edition was written by Luca Raffaelli.
Intrigued by a riddle sent to him in a letter by his friend Baron Corvo (the pseudonym of the English writer Frederick Rolfe), Corto Maltese travels to Venice in search of the Clavicle of Solomon, a magical talisman engraved with mysterious inscriptions. To assist him in his search, he seeks the help of his Venetian friend Little Silver Foot (Gambetta d'Argento) and her son Boeke.
The adventure begins with a chase across the rooftops of Venice. While attempting to escape his pursuers, Corto falls through a skylight, and at that moment the tone of the narrative shifts, taking on an almost dreamlike quality. He lands in the middle of a meeting of the Grand Lodge of Italy, engages in an absurd conversation with one of its members, and is introduced to the gentle yet enigmatic Bepi Faliero.
During the night, together with Faliero, Corto becomes involved in a confrontation with a group of Fascists led by the belligerent Stevani, and encounters a series of remarkable and unexpected figures, ranging from the poet Gabriele D'Annunzio to the mysterious Neoplatonist philosopher of Venice, Hipazia.
This search leads Corto Maltese into a tangled web of mysteries, rivalries and hidden agendas. The talisman is connected to an ancient legend and to a series of secret symbols scattered throughout Venice, forcing Corto to investigate not only the physical locations where the object may be hidden, but also the stories and memories surrounding the city itself.
During his investigations, Corto becomes involved in a dangerous political situation. The atmosphere of Venice in 1921 is marked by the growing influence of Fascism, and he finds himself caught between different factions pursuing their own interests. His encounters with various characters reveal a world where political conspiracies, esoteric beliefs and personal vendettas intertwine.
After a series of events and misunderstandings, Corto is accused of having attempted to assassinate a prominent figure. He must therefore continue his search while trying to clear his name and discover who is truly behind the plot against him.
The adventure also revolves around a mysterious emerald, hidden somewhere in Venice, whose history is linked to the city's legends and to the secret societies that operate in its shadows. As Corto follows the clues, the boundaries between reality, myth and imagination become increasingly blurred.
There are three magical, secret places in Venice: one on the "Street of the Love of Friends," the second near the "Bridge of Wonders," and the third on the "Path of the Marranos," near San Geremia in the old Ghetto. When Venetians -or sometimes the Maltese- grow weary of the authorities, they go to these secret places and, opening the doors at the back of the courtyards, depart forever for wondrous lands and other stories...
Today,
The Grandma has been reading Un hiver à Majorque (A Winter in Mallorca), this wonderful work
by Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil, also known as George Sand,the French writer who was born on a day like today in 1804.
There are places that become inseparable from the people who once walked their streets, admired their landscapes, or found inspiration within their silence. Mallorca is one of those places. Known today for its crystal-clear waters, picturesque villages, and Mediterranean charm, the island also occupies a remarkable chapter in the history of European culture. During the winter of 1838-1839, two of the nineteenth century's most celebrated figures -the composer Frédéric Chopin and the novelist George Sand- spent several months on the island in what would become one of the most famous artistic retreats in history.
Their stay, however, was far from idyllic. What they had imagined as a peaceful escape from the harsh Parisian winter became a period marked by illness, misunderstanding, disappointment, and isolation. Yet it also became the source of extraordinary artistic creation and literary reflection. Chopin composed some of his finest music while in Mallorca, and Sand later immortalized the experience in her travel memoir A Winter in Mallorca, a book that continues to shape perceptions of the island nearly two centuries later.
The story of Chopin and Sand in Mallorca is therefore much more than a curious historical anecdote. It is a fascinating encounter between art, nature, culture, and human resilience.
By the time they travelled to Mallorca, both Frédéric Chopin and George Sand were already among Europe's cultural elite.
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849), born near Warsaw, had established himself in Paris as one of the greatest pianists and composers of the Romantic era. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Chopin rarely composed orchestral works. His genius lay almost entirely in writing for the piano, transforming the instrument into a vehicle capable of expressing the deepest emotions through intimate and poetic music. His nocturnes, études, preludes, mazurkas, waltzes, and ballades remain central to the piano repertoire today. His style combined technical brilliance with extraordinary lyrical sensitivity, making him one of history's most influential composers.
George Sand, the pen name of Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin (1804-1876), was equally remarkable. She was one of France's most successful novelists, an outspoken intellectual, and a woman determined to challenge the social conventions of her time. She adopted a male pseudonym, wore men's clothing in Paris when it was considered scandalous, defended artistic freedom, and maintained friendships with many of Europe's leading writers, painters, and musicians.
Their romantic relationship began in 1838. Despite their contrasting personalities -Chopin reserved and delicate, Sand energetic and independent- they formed one of the nineteenth century's most fascinating artistic partnerships.
The decision to spend the winter in Mallorca was motivated by several practical reasons. First and foremost, Chopin's fragile health had become increasingly worrying. Although tuberculosis had not yet been definitively diagnosed, he suffered from chronic coughing, weakness, recurring respiratory infections, and episodes of severe exhaustion. His doctors believed that a milder climate might improve his condition.
Mallorca appeared to be the ideal destination. At the time, it was still largely untouched by international tourism. The island promised sunshine, fresh air, affordable living, and a peaceful environment where both artists could work without interruption.
Sand travelled with her two children, Maurice and Solange, while Chopin accompanied them as both companion and composer. They left France in the autumn of 1838 expecting several months of tranquillity and recovery. The first weeks were filled with practical difficulties. Suitable accommodation proved difficult to find, and local residents viewed the unconventional French visitors with curiosity and, in some cases, suspicion. Sand's independent lifestyle, her unmarried relationship with Chopin, and the family's foreign customs attracted considerable attention. The greatest challenge emerged when rumours spread that Chopin suffered from tuberculosis, a disease then considered highly contagious and greatly feared. Landlords became reluctant to host the group. Furniture and personal belongings they had rented were reportedly burned or destroyed after their departure because owners feared contamination. Whether every episode described by Sand occurred exactly as written remains debated by historians. Nevertheless, there is little doubt that the family encountered genuine prejudice and social isolation.
Unable to remain in Palma, the family eventually moved to the RoyalCharterhouse of Valldemossa, a former Carthusian monastery nestled high in the Tramuntana mountains.
Today, Valldemossa is among Mallorca's most visited cultural destinations, attracting thousands of visitors every year eager to see the rooms associated with Chopin and Sand.
The monastery provided relative peace and extraordinary scenery. Surrounded by mountains, olive groves, cypress trees, and dramatic winter skies, the setting possessed an almost mystical atmosphere. Yet the building was cold, damp, and poorly suited to someone suffering from chronic lung disease. Ironically, the climate that had been expected to restore Chopin's health often worsened his condition. Rainfall was unusually heavy during that winter. Temperatures dropped significantly, and humidity penetrated the monastery's thick stone walls. Chopin frequently became seriously ill, sometimes unable even to leave his bed.
One of the most famous episodes of the Mallorcan stay concerns Chopin's piano. A composer whose entire artistic world revolved around the keyboard naturally needed an instrument to continue working. Before leaving France, Chopin had ordered a piano from the Parisian manufacturer Pleyel, whose instruments he particularly admired. Unfortunately, the shipment was delayed by customs procedures and transport difficulties.
For weeks, Chopin was forced to practise and compose on a much inferior local instrument while anxiously awaiting the arrival of his beloved Pleyel piano. When it finally reached Valldemossa, it transformed his daily routine. Despite his worsening illness, he resumed intensive composition. Remarkably, that very instrument still survives and is displayed today at the Charterhouse, becoming one of Mallorca's most treasured musical artefacts.
Perhaps the greatest paradox of the Mallorcan winter is that, despite immense personal hardship, Chopin produced some of the most beautiful music of his career. During these months he worked extensively on what would become his Twenty-Four Preludes, Op. 28.
Rather than forming a conventional collection of pieces, each prelude explores a unique emotional landscape. Some last less than a minute; others possess extraordinary dramatic intensity. Together they form one of the greatest achievements in piano literature. Many listeners have sought to connect certain preludes with the Mallorcan landscape.
The famous Prelude in D-flat major, often nicknamed the Raindrop Prelude, is perhaps the best-known example. According to later accounts, Sand found Chopin deeply disturbed after dreaming that he had drowned while hearing persistent drops of rain falling from the monastery roof.
Whether this anecdote is literally true remains uncertain, and Chopin himself strongly disliked attaching descriptive stories to his music. Nevertheless, generations of listeners have associated the repeated notes within the piece with falling rain, making it impossible to separate the music entirely from the atmosphere of that Mallorcan winter.
Years after returning to France, George Sand published Un hiver à Majorque (A Winter in Mallorca), one of the nineteenth century's most famous travel books. Unlike a conventional travel guide, the work combines memoir, social commentary, cultural observation, political criticism, humour, and personal reflection.
Sand praises Mallorca's spectacular natural beauty with genuine admiration. She describes the mountains, forests, monasteries, sea, and countryside in vivid language that often reads like poetry.
At the same time, she criticizes aspects of local society with unusual frankness. She portrays many inhabitants as suspicious of foreigners, deeply conservative, resistant to change, and excessively influenced by religious authority. She also expresses frustration with local bureaucracy, sanitation, transportation, and medical care. These observations generated considerable controversy. Many Mallorcans considered Sand's portrayal unfair, exaggerated, and offensive. Others argued that her difficult personal circumstances inevitably coloured her impressions.
Modern readers generally recognize that A Winter in Mallorca reflects both careful observation and emotional reaction. Like many travel narratives, it tells us as much about the traveller as about the destination itself. Despite its controversial reception, Sand's book has become one of the most influential literary works ever written about Mallorca. Ironically, a text that criticized many aspects of island life helped introduce Mallorca to generations of European readers.
Long before package holidays and international tourism transformed the BalearicIslands, Sand's descriptions awakened curiosity about the island's landscapes and history.
Today, many visitors first encounter the story of Valldemossa through her writing. The book therefore occupies a unique position in travel literature: simultaneously an affectionate portrait of natural beauty and a deeply critical account of social reality. The question has long fascinated historians.
From a medical perspective, the answer appears relatively straightforward. Mallorca almost certainly failed to improve Chopin's health. The cold, humid conditions inside the monastery aggravated his respiratory illness, and he left the island physically weaker than when he had arrived. Artistically, however, the experience proved immensely productive.
Periods of suffering have often coincided with extraordinary creativity in the lives of many artists. Chopin's Mallorcan compositions reveal remarkable emotional depth, ranging from serenity and contemplation to anxiety, despair, and hope. Whether these emotions directly reflect his personal experience cannot be proven, yet the coincidence remains striking.
Nearly two centuries later, visitors can still follow many of the footsteps taken by Chopin and Sand. Walking through its narrow stone streets, surrounded by flowers, mountain air, and centuries-old buildings, it is easy to understand why the village has retained its timeless charm. The Charterhouse houses exhibitions dedicated to both artists, including manuscripts, historical documents, portraits, and the famous Pleyel piano associated with Chopin's stay. Throughout the year, concerts frequently celebrate his music within the monastery itself, allowing audiences to hear the works in the very environment where many of them were conceived.
Palma also preserves traces of their visit, while the landscapes of the Serra de Tramuntana remain astonishingly similar to those described by Sand in her book. Popular imagination often reduces the story to a romantic tale of two celebrated lovers escaping to a Mediterranean paradise.
Their relationship in Mallorca was tested by illness, financial concerns, social isolation, and the exhausting practicalities of everyday life. Sand became nurse, organiser, mother, and protector, assuming responsibilities that extended far beyond those of a romantic companion. Chopin, meanwhile, struggled with physical pain while continuing to pursue artistic perfection.
The winter revealed both the strengths and the tensions within their relationship. Although they remained together for almost another decade after leaving Mallorca, the experience undoubtedly marked an important stage in their shared life.
The story of Chopin and George Sand continues to resonate because it speaks to universal human experiences. It reminds us that artistic masterpieces are not always born from comfort. Creativity often emerges in moments of uncertainty, adversity, and emotional complexity. It also illustrates how travel can transform both visitors and destinations. For Chopin and Sand, Mallorca became unforgettable despite -or perhaps because of- the hardships they endured. For Mallorca, their brief stay became part of the island's cultural identity.
Finally, A Winter in Mallorcareminds readers that every travel narrative represents a personal perspective rather than an objective truth. Sand'sobservations were shaped by illness, disappointment, cultural differences, and the social realities of the nineteenth century. Her account remains invaluable, not because it provides a perfectly balanced portrait of Mallorca, but because it captures one woman's intensely personal encounter with an unfamiliar place.
Today, almost two hundred years after that extraordinary winter, visitors continue to climb the winding roads to Valldemossa. Some come in search of Chopin's music; others seek the landscapes described by George Sand. Many arrive simply curious about the remarkable story that united two extraordinary artists with one Mediterranean island.
Their stay lasted only a few months, yet its cultural legacy has endured for generations. In the quiet cloisters of the old Charterhouse, surrounded by mountains and silence, one can still imagine the sound of Chopin's piano echoing through the stone corridors while George Sand transformed their difficult experience into literature. Together, they left Mallorca not only with memories of hardship and beauty but with works that continue to inspire audiences around the world. Sometimes, the most enduring masterpieces are born not from perfect circumstances, but from imperfect winters that history never forgets.
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