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Chapter 29
I was so pleased last night when I discovered some coloured slides I had taken in 1968 of the Spindrift estate to complement my black and white photos. For me it was like finding a small treasure in these few transparencies. Unfortunately I don't yet have a slide scanner for uploading them to my computer but for the time being these images will suffice, even though they were reproduced in a low tech manner by using a strong light and a close camera on macro. The above photo shows the main house located at the back of the property at Portals Nous.
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My story of Dina Moore and the Bowdens will continue after showing these photos of their beautiful old Mediterranean house and garden.
Ajoining the outer street wall by the entrance was the small house of the Mallorquin couple Catalina and Juan who were the estate caretakers. Catalina cooked and looked after the house while Juan tended the garden and did repairs.
I remember the kitchen of the main house being fitted with old-style double stone sinks with tiny drainholes, used in the manner which I still use today for dishwashing...left side filled with hot, soapy water for washing, right side filled with cold water for rinsing. It was an interesting house although I didn't see all the inside rooms.
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Here is again the photo print of me in that yellow dress I made before leaving Vancouver. I realized later that this was taken in the garden at Spindrift, not in Palma as I had previously thought. Part of the house is visible behind.
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It was fitted out as a small library with books, a table and comfortable sofa. Dina Moore Bowden kindly invited me to come and spend time in this quiet studio to practice my guitar and read her books. It was a lovely retreat, where I sat alone reading for the first time George Sand's book "A Winter in Mallorca". I read it there, albeit slowly, in the original French as "Un Hiver à Majorque". The name George Sand was the pseudonym of the French novelist Amandine Aurore Lucile Dupin who spent a miserable and cold winter of 1838 - 1839 with Frédéric Chopin in the Carthusian monastery in Valldemossa.
That was the first time I had heard that it could be very chilly in Mallorca in winter time. I had brought no coat with me from Canada, thinking Spain was the land of sunshine, every day of the year!
Here I am by the gate, wearing again my straw basket, my one blouse and skirt.
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Continue on to Chapter 30 Dina Moore Bowden
Go back to Chapter 28 Spindrift
3 comments:
I love the pictures of you and the environs. You know what? It made me think of ”The Night of the Iguana.“ Lazy lush beauty, green trees, calm beaches.
Good photography.
Thank you Lorna. It always made me think of "Nights in The Gardens of Spain"..Manuel de Falla, and the nostalgic scent of jasmine on a warm Mediterranean night. So romantic!
I think when you're young you believe you're infallible and things can't harm you even if it's just the cold weather. When you get older you know better. :-)
I really enjoyed the photos and the descriptions. What a place to sit and get lost in a book and the views.
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