Hello and hola!
It is a beautiful late summer day and I’m in Spain.
And more accurately,
I’m in the ancient town of Llivia, in Catalonia, in Spain
- although something tells me a fair number of locals
would have ended that sentence right after the word “Catalonia”,
but we’ll come back to that later.
For the moment let’s just say officially we’re in Spain.
And we are more than 1000m up on the slopes of the mighty Pyrenees,
the mountain range that famously divides Spain from France.
So what are we doing here?
Well let’s take a quick look at a map.
Because have you ever looked at the border between Spain and France
just east of Andorra and thought...
What on earth is that?
I mean, probably not, but I did, and now here we all are.
How did this tiny blob of Spain end up detached from the rest of Spain,
on the wrong side of the Pyrenees?
What sort of clearly ridiculous backstory is behind that?
Welcome to Llivia, the enclave created out of sheer pedantry.
So this is Llivia.
It’s only a small town but it has quite a big history.
Back in Roman times it was the capital of the ancient region of Cerdanya,
and it also has a 16th century church,
one of the oldest pharmacies in Europe
(which is now a museum of medicine),
and rather unusually for the French side of the Pyrenees,
it’s home to about one and a half thousand Spaniards.
So what are they doing here?
Well once again on this channel it is time to talk about
the 1659 Treaty of the Pyrenees,
because that’s the treaty that defined the Spain France border as we know it today
and brought peace after decades of fighting
in the Franco-Spanish war of the time.
But regular viewers may remember it for its starring role
in a video I made at the other end of the border,
where thanks – essentially – to some badly written legal text,
there’s now a small island that flips between the two countries every six months.
Anyway, it turns out that’s not the only mess that King Louis and King Felipe created.
Because, well, let’s just replay one little bit of that video...
Ok so I think we agree.
We will have everything on ze north side of ze Pyrenees, all zese villages ere…
si
you can have Barcelona…
si
and I will have your daughter.
si
¿QUE?
Now if you’ve seen the rest of that video
you all know what happens to the island and the poor old princess,
but what I didn’t tell you
is that Spain nearly called the wedding off
while they were arguing about the villages.
In this area specifically,
there is a gap in the mountains called The Valley of Cerdanya
and that made it less obvious where the line should go -
what exactly was north of the Pyrenees, and what was south.
Predictably, the two sides had different ideas,
but after months of painful negotiations
they eventually bashed out an agreement
and according to the final terms and conditions,
Spain had agreed to give all 33 villages north of the line to France.
And we now cross live to Llivia in 1660.
Ok so all the villages north of the Pyrenees are now belong to France.
Thank you very much.
Bye then!
Si.
Adios.
Euh…
Goodbye ?
Si.
Adios.
Euh…
Au revoir?
Si.
Adios.
Why are you still here?
No comprendo?
Look you silly Spaniard.
All villages north of the Pyrenees are to be ceded to France.
We are north of the Pyrenees.
Why are you still here?
Pero que tonto!
You silly French man.
All VILLAGES north of the Pyrenees are to be ceded to France.
This is not a village.
This is a town.
What?
Felipe wasn’t kidding.
When challenged he pointed out that Llivia was, after all,
the ancient capital of Cerdanya,
and therefore, it couldn’t possibly be just a village.
And here we are 362 years later,
and Llivia and its surrounding fields
are still Spanish to this day.
And whether you’re French, Spanish, or neutral,
you have to admire the sheer bloody-minded pedantry.
But it wouldn’t really be a YouTube video about pedantry without someone saying
“well, actually…”
And, well, actually…
Llivia doesn’t really want to be Spanish OR French.
Because while the two sides of the Pyrenees are split between modern day Spain and France,
and have been since 1660,
they are united – at this end at least –
by historic Catalonia.
And in fact, it’s very hard to find any flag in the enclave that isn’t a Catalan one;
either the official flag of Catalonia,
the four red stripes on a yellow background;
or what they call the “Estelada”,
an unofficial flag used by Catalan nationalists,
which adds a blue triangle and a lone star,
a fairly obvious symbol for independence.
So is there any chance the enclave might separate from Spain one day?
Well strap in, because a British person is now going to have
to talk about a referendum.
(Aside) Do we have insurance?
In 2017 the Catalan Parliament organised an independence referendum,
without the approval of the central Spanish government in Madrid.
And things got pretty heated, to put it mildly.
Now this video is not about that,
I’ll leave it to the people who actually know what they’re talking about,
but I mention it because of what it tells us about Llivia.
Now, the overall vote for independence, for what it’s worth, was 90%.
And of course, that needs to be taken in context;
it was a vote organised by one side,
while the other side declared it illegal and sent in the police;
you can probably work out how that might affect voting patterns.
But in Llivia the vote was 95%.
In other words, whatever you think of the numbers,
they do tell us that support for self-rule was higher here
than almost anywhere else in Catalonia.
Of course, if Catalonia ever did become independent from Spain,
Llivia would still be an enclave, it would just be a Catalan one,
unless they managed to convince the French Catalans to join them.
But that’s a whole other story.
And here in the enclave, that day in 2017 went relatively peacefully.
While the Spanish government sent in the National Police and the Civil Guard to other Catalan towns,
they didn’t touch Llivia.
I think that's because it would have technically meant
sending military personnel through French territory.
The two countries do have some special arrangements here
but I guess maybe that kind of operation isn’t covered
– if you know more please let us know in the comments
starting your sentence with the words “well, actually…”.
But long story short,
local independence supporters were free to go out and vote,
and it was all very low key,
they didn’t take advantage of the situ...
ah who am I kidding.
They had a huge party,
organised a big barbecue in front of the town hall
and – wait for it –
created a world-record, football-pitch-sized Estelada
made out of 81000 Catalan coloured candles.
And just think:
in a parallel universe,
Llivia is a small French village,
it didn’t even get to vote,
and in all likelihood,
it doesn’t have strong feelings about Catalan independence.
All of that, ultimately,
is because of a Spanish King,
and a 362-year-old piece of pedantry.
(Technically).
If you’d like to visit the beautiful historic town and enclave of Llivia
– maybe you’re a pedant and you want to make a pilgrimage to the motherland –
the best way to get here is the local bus from Puigcerda,
just across the border in the main bit of Spain / Catalonia.
And Puigcerda itself is on the international railway line between Barcelona and Toulouse.
But don’t forget the main language here is Catalan, ahead of Spanish or French.
Meanwhile the so-called ‘neutral road’ is a story in itself,
and I might just make a bonus video about that one day,
but until then, thank you all for watching
and I will see you soon.