Berta and the Leaning Houses

Polly wakes to claws clicking on stone. An elderly stone marten is watching her from a drainpipe, whiskers first. She introduces herself as Berta, says she has lived inside these walls longer than most roofs have, and offers a tour before the day gets hot. A marten's tour, she warns, involves shortcuts. Polly says she is excellent at shortcuts.

Polly se budi uz zvuk pandžica koje kuckaju po kamenu. S oluka je promatra postarija kuna bjelica, najprije brkovima. Predstavi se kao Berta, kaže da unutar ovih zidina živi dulje nego većina krovova i ponudi obilazak prije nego što dan postane vruć. Kunin obilazak, upozorava, uključuje prečace. Polly kaže da je u prečacima izvrsna.

The lanes of Albarracín do not believe in straight lines. They climb in steps, duck under archways, and squeeze between houses until the wooden balconies above nearly touch, so that neighbors could pass a cup of sugar across without leaning far. The walls are plastered in that soft pink that comes from the local earth, and every door seems built for someone a little smaller than expected.

Uličice Albarracína ne vjeruju u ravne linije. Penju se stubama, provlače se ispod lukova i stišću se između kuća dok se drveni balkoni gore gotovo ne dodirnu, tako da bi susjedi mogli dodati šalicu šećera preko ulice bez velikog naginjanja. Zidovi su ožbukani onom mekom ružičastom bojom koja dolazi iz ovdašnje zemlje, a svaka vrata kao da su građena za nekoga malo manjeg nego što očekuješ.

At a corner, Berta stops with the pride of a museum guide. Above them rises a house that leans in every direction at once, narrow at the bottom, wide at the top, not one straight edge anywhere. It is called the Julianeta, and it is probably the most photographed crooked house in Spain. It has stood like this for centuries, Berta says, which is more than most straight houses manage.

Na jednom uglu Berta zastane s ponosom muzejske vodičice. Iznad njih diže se kuća koja se naginje u svim smjerovima odjednom, uska pri dnu, široka pri vrhu, bez ijednog ravnog ruba. Zove se Julianeta i vjerojatno je najfotografiranija nakrivljena kuća u Španjolskoj. Ovako stoji stoljećima, kaže Berta, što je više nego što većina ravnih kuća uspije.

They end the morning on a rooftop, sharing a fig Berta produces from somewhere. Below them the pink town rearranges itself into stairways and chimneys. Polly asks how anyone finds their way here. Berta considers this. You do not find your way, she says. You let the town lose you kindly, and then you are home.

Jutro završavaju na krovu, dijeleći smokvu koju Berta izvuče odnekud. Ispod njih ružičasti se grad slaže u stubišta i dimnjake. Polly pita kako itko ovdje pronađe put. Berta razmisli. Ne pronalaziš put, kaže. Pustiš da te grad ljubazno izgubi, i onda si doma.