Don Juan, The Beast of Bonela and Spain's Deadly Domestic Heating.
News.
It feels like only yesterday that we were going around in shorts and t shirts and our woolly jumpers were still in the suitcase on top of the wardrobe. Today it was a bit chilly sitting up in the top square and my
café con leche doble went cold in minutes. After
a verano de membrillo (Indian summer)
el invierno (winter) has arrived in
Álora. Women of all ages are going round with scarves wrapped round their faces; only the hardiest or foolhardiest of Brits are in shorts (the local youth went back to their
chándals (trackies) months ago) and the shelves in the
ferretería are full of electric
braseros.
An elderly lady sizes up the latest newfangled electric braseros in 'El PIntor'
In
Álora braseros are still the
calefacción (heating) method of choice, although the really traditional type of 'under the table' heating, using burning red hot coals, has almost died out following hundreds of years of fatal house fires, badly blistered feet and a shortage of
abuelas (grandmas). I bet the insurance premiums are pricey.
Another elderly lady stokes up the fire in her 'under the table deathtrap' 'brasero´. That rug looks a bit flammable, not to mention the blanket.
It's no wonder that that the electric ones are catching on. Central heating hasn't really taken off here but wood burning stoves are popular, especially among the
extrañeros (Brits etc.) who tend to go in for air conditioning too.
This lady,
Tonia, still lights her
brasero every evening in
Calle Atrás using olive stones and charcoal. I took this picture last night. When the coals are good and hot, all the family sit round the table with the heavy flammable blanket over their knees. Everybody is lovely and snug and who knows what goes on under that blanket? You've got to be careful where you put your feet though.
The weather was ideal for the start of the
olive picking season - not too hot, no strong winds to blow the nets around and only one day's rain.
The
Sánchez family estate (
Olivar Caicunes) yielded 2295 kgs.this year thanks to the impressive efforts of our 'team' of enthusiastic volunteers. Every single olive was picked lovingly by hand. Special thanks go to:
Mrs.
Sánchez
Colin 'Netman' Laycock
Paul 'Yosser' Hughes
Ben 'The Vegan' Connolly
Helga
Bob 'Standard Lamps' Bailey
Geraldine and Ivan
Alan 'Runcorn' Radley and the lovely Julie.
Henry 'The Horse'. who provided organic fertiliser and kept the weeds down.
From olives to liquid gold
If you fancy a taste of
the best olive oil in the known world and know where
Birmingham is, we shall be selling a limited amount of our raw, unfiltered, early harvest, cold press, first pressing, almost organic, low acidity (0.3%) olive oil at the
MAC Christmas Food Market, Sunday December 17th.,Cannon Hill Park and at the
Moseley Farmers' Market Saturday 23rd. December.
Avid and loyal readers of this informative and entertaining organ may remember that last year, whilst we were picking the olives
our dinner was pinched, along with the cool bag by an unidentified felon. Suspicion fell on the
short toed (snake) eagle that regularly patrols the sky above
Olivar Caicunes. No trace of the bag or the sandwiches has ever been found. The latest theory is that an
Iberian Lynx may have strayed from the not so nearby
Coto Doñana and is living in the
High Chaparral next to our
finca in Casarabonela. Small dogs and cats have been reported missing by goatherds, shepherds and local farmers.
Iberian Lynx with dinner
This elusive and potentially dangerous feline food filcher has attracted so much attention and notoriety that it is being compared to the Hound of the Baskervilles, The Loch Ness Monster and The Beast of Bolsover. It is now referred to locally as
The Beast of Bonela.
The Olive harvest and oil production (315 litres) has kept Los Sánchez pretty busy for the last few weeks so I've not been able to keep up with the regular programme of cultural and social events in the town. These are usually advertised on posters that are stuck up willy-nilly on walls and windows in 'The Top Square'. It was only when I called in our little corner shop, that isn't on a corner, to buy
una barra de pan that
Antonio, who runs
'Lo Mas Natural' with
Flores,told me
that there was a concert in the
Teatro Cervantes that same evening featuring a choir from
Newcastle, a large town in the north of England. He showed me part of the poster on his phone. I could see 'Newcastle' and 'Choral'. He said it was free, too.
Our two guests didn't fancy it but Mrs. S and I were well up for it. A good old sing along to 'The Blaydon Races', 'Wor Geordie's Lost His Penka' and 'The Lampton Warm' seemed just the ticket (free) to round off a week of strenuous harvesting. A drink afterwards in
Lo D'Antonio's, next to the theatre would be
la guinda del pastel (the icing on the cake).
It turned out that the tickets were 6€ each and there was a play on too, called
Don Juan Tenorio. It was too late to pull out so I bought the tickets and we went in. The
Teatro Cervantes which holds up to 10,000 people was absolutely packed and we only just got a couple of seats at the back.
A scene from Don Juan Tenorio
Two and a half hours later, with no interval, we collapsed into
Lo D'Antonio's and ordered drinks. It was nearly midnight. We had hardly understood a word and we had no idea what had been going on. (I admit that I had a couple of naps during the performance) and the only sign of any singing was this:
You can just make out the Newcastle Chorale in the background lending a skillful and sombre soundtrack to this very moving graveyard scene towards the (mercifully) end of the play.
I Googled the play when we got home. Here's the main things I learnt:
- Don Juan Tenorio is an extremely popular play that is performed all over Spain around El Día de Todos los Muertos (The day of all the dead) (November 2nd.)
- It is the longest play ever written in Spanish.
- It's about Don Juan who was a notorious womaniser and murderer.
- The kids love it.
- I won't be going again.
- Not all Geordies sing 'The Blaydon Races', 'Wor Geordie's Lost His Penka' and The Lampton Warm'
Local Characters
I'd like to introduce you to a couple of local Álora characters.
- Paco Rumar
The jolly chap doing the bird impression is
Paco. He used to own a traditional furniture factory and shop called
Muebles Rumar down on the
El Chorro road near the
Guardia Civil Cuartel, so we've always called him
Paco Rumar, which is not his real name.
For the last 17 years he has been doing this birdie act every time he sees me. It's funnier when he wiggles his fingers. You'll have to take my word for that. The man sitting down is called Rudolfo and is not in on the joke. Neither was I until a couple of years ago when I bit the bullet and asked him why he kept doing it.
In 1999 we bought quite a lot of furniture from him as all ours had been stolen (but that's another story). My good friend and then joint owner of what is now
Casa Sánchez, Terry,
tried to get a bit of discount on the bill. Paco wouldn't have any of it and good humouredly stood his ground for about half an hour of heavy haggling. Terry finally managed to get him to throw in a flimsy magazine rack and we all shook hands on it.
Apparently the word
'pájaro' (bird) and the accompanying rib-tickling gesture also mean:
(
fam) bad lot, nasty piece of work (
colloq) an unpleasant character.
(Hist) A hired killer (in the pay of landowners).
NOW it all makes sense. It wasn't even me doing the haggling.
2. Cuca (Julia Gross)
Cuca
Julie Gross (Cuca) is smiling because she has just had a very successful exhibition of her paintings in Málaga.
She is an artist and a good friend who has lived in Álora for many years but lived previously in Alhaurín el Grande with her family. Mrs.S and I met Cuca soon after we came to
Álora. She speaks English very well but has always encouraged us to learn and speak to her in Spanish. Her paintings in those days were already much sought after and she is particularly known for her 'women' paintings. Her recent exhibition was entitled
'Mis Mujeres' (My Women). Mrs S and I are very proud of the magnificent painting of Cuca's we have here on our wall in
Álora.
'Mujer 001' (2016)
Cuca moved to Álora in 1991 and lived here with her husband Keith Nicholson Pryce who was an author,('Omar, King of Andalusia.' (Northumbria University, Newcastle upon Tyne UK. 2015) , painter, sculptor and craftsman, until his death in 2012.
After Keith died Cuca stopped painting for a time but I'm delighted to say that she is working very hard again now and is at the top of her form. Her exhibition in Málaga attracted a great deal of interest, gained very good reviews and resulted in a good number of sales.
Keith and Cuca were both very close to the famous Hispanist and author Gerald Brenan who wrote
South From Granada,
The Face of Spain and
The Spanish Labyrinth.
Granada. The River Darro
Mrs. S and I and our friend and olive 'netman', Colin have just been to
Granada for a few days. It's getting a bit chilly up there but we took some warm clothing and spent as much time as possible in warm bars and restaurants, which is what cities are all about in my opinion.
The big attraction is the
Alhambra, of course but it gets very crowded round there and down in the
Plaza Nueva at night, too. We tend to head down to the
Plaza de la Trinidad area which is still pretty busy day and night. We had two great
Menú del Día at
La Chanterela on
Calle Aguila. If I thought that a lot of people might read this and go to
Granada and make it difficult for me to get a table I wouldn't have told you where it is. It's that good.
On
Calle Tablas is the
Hotel Reina Cristina which opens until quite late at night. Its
cafetería is called
El Rincón de Lorca.
I think they've got a bit of a cheek calling it after
Federico García Lorca seeing as how this is where the Granadian fascists grabbed him in 1936 when he was hiding from them in what was then the house of the
Rosales brothers
. He was already one of Spain's most famous poets and playwrights and not known for any strong political views but the fascist
falanguistas hated him for his criticism of the Granada bourgeoisie and his open homosexuality.
They took him away to nearby
Viznar and killed him in particularly cruel and disgusting way,
Franco tried to cover his murder up for years and Lorca's body has never been found. So when you're sitting in the warm bar of the
Hotel Reina Cristina sipping a
Cruzcampo beer or a G and T, spare a thought for Federico García Lorca and the other thousands of republicans murdered in Granada after the city was taken over by the falangists in 1936.
High on the south wall of Granada's cathedral you can still see inscribed the name of the founder of the Spanish
Falange, J
osé Antonio Primo de Rivera, even though it has been almost obliterated for some years by the red paint thrown at it by enthusiastic admirers.
Since the re-establishment of democracy in Spain in 1978 the dreadful atrocities of the Civil War and during the years of the Franco dictatorship were hardly talked about because of the
Pacto de Olvido (The Pact of Forgetting). The current events in Catalunya, though, have stirred up a lot of long standing animosity between those who believe strongly in a united Spain, as did General
Franco, and supporters of an independent Catalunya. Lots of Spanish flags have appeared on the balconies of apartments. Some people have taken this to signify a resurgence of Francoism.
Just round the corner from the cathedral, this piece of graffiti has recently appeared.
We'll see.
Pie News
There's good news and bad news on the 'pie front' for pie lovers in Spain. Seasoned readers will know that is is almost impossibe to buy a decent pie in mainland Spain (try Mallorca). However, last week I was presented with an unexpected treat....a pack of four genuine
Holland's Meat Pies, the Rolls Royce of the meat pie world. They were frozen, of course, and had been bought in Iceland, which is a shop in Fuenguirola (a famous holiday resort down on the Costa Del Sol.). They warmed up nicely and were delicious.
Holland's Meat Pies. Made in Baxenden, Lancashire.
I was also presented with what I took to be a
Melton Mowbray Pork Pie, the Rolls Royce of the Pork Pie World. (There IS a difference). It was OK but on closer inspection it turned out to be a horse of an entirely different colour! (I am NOT implying anything about the pie recipe here). It's a metaphor.
A Vale of Mowbray Pork Pie. Made in Yorkshire.
All Melton Mowbray Pork Pies have Protected Geographical Indication status (PGI) and must have been made in
Leicestershire around the delightful town o
f Melton Mowbray.
Melton Mowbray Pork Pie.
This one was made in North Yorkshire.
An unwary pie shopper, and there must be hundreds of them in Fuengirola, could easily mistake the Vale of Mowbray pie for a genuine Melton Mowbray Pie, which it isn't.
I think all pie lovers who read this should take note. There is no charge for this advice.
Juanito Sánchez
November 29th. 2017
PS. Please excuse the possible lack of 'u' s in the text. My laptop compter is playing the giddy goat with me and not printing 'u's unless I really biff the key hard.
