For Catalans, the Canigou mountain is a symbol of their one-time nation which straddled the Mediterranean end of the Pyrenees. For some, it is also the emblem of a nation-in-waiting, to be reconstituted from the eponymous Spanish province centred around Barcelona, and the French département of the Pyrénées-Orientales.

A Catalan friend had invited me to the trobada which takes place on Canigou in June but was hospitalised a few days before, so I decide to go alone. I ring up the president of the organising committee. “Bring something combustible for the fire,” he says. “ It must be something which belongs to you, that’s important. And it must be labelled with where you come from.” He doesn’t question my accent and my evident lack of Catalan credentials.
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