Last week Mrs.Sánchez and I made a flying visit to Álora. We were on a pruning mission.
We've got a parra (grape vine) in the garden that's not produced many grapes for the last couple of years and local wisdom has it that the answer lies in the pruning, which should be done in January or February. We tried that last year. I made the trip back last February with Colin 'Legs' Laycock from Liverpool as Mrs. S. had to stay in Brum with a sickly dog.
It all looked pretty easy when local expert 'Chuster' (I don't know his real name) showed me last year. All you have to do is choose a couple of strong looking twigs, cut them back to two buds and chop off all the rest. A piece of cake.
'Chuster' (not his real name) pruning our olives.
No luck. We got about six bunches.
This year, acting upon reliable information, ( Dr.Google), we've pruned by the moon; not just by any old moon but during una luna menguante (a waning moon), which guarantees success, apparently.
Mrs.S. is never happier than when she's hacking back vegetation or 're-organising' the compost heap. We bought a new pair of expensive tijeras (secateurs) at El Pintor (50€!!) so she set about the bouganvilla, wisteria, jasmine etc. like a woman possessed. Nothing was safe from those flashing blades.
As for the moon thing, well, it's worth a try despite the expensive flights, kennel fees for the dogs and a rotten weather forecast. Mumbo jumbo might actually work. It's going to need a lot more than la Madre Naturaleza to rescue the scene of desolation we left behind us.
Álora hadn't changed much in four weeks except for a new bar/asador opening just down the side of Bar Alegría on Calle Rosales. It specialises in barbecued chicken and is called 'Don Pollo' (Mr. Chicken). I suspect it's another re-incarnation of 'Chicken George' who used to have the roast chicken shop in the square next door to to Repsol -Butano (the bottled gas place). It was incredibly popular in the days when people had jobs and some spare money. You could smell the roast chicken from as far away as Málaga. People queued round the block. I don't know what his wife put on those chickens - it can't have been healthy, but my mouth's watering now just thinking of it. When the 'Crisis' hit in 2008 the shop shut down, There was talk of a fire risk and rumours about his 'special recipe' but he soon re-opened 50 metres away as a bakery/roast chicken shop, (now an estate agent/antique shop).Chicken George (not his real name) is a big Real Madrid supporter so I'll give Don Pollo six months.
Despite all the comings and goings as the Christmas decorations were being taken down I couldn't help noticing that an old friend, Paco Mañoño was not in his usual spot by the traffic lights in the Plaza de la Fuente Arriba, watching the world go by. We've known Paco for 17 years and, although he has gone steadily downhill over the past couple of years, he was always pleased to see us. I wasn't surprised to hear when we got back to Birmingham that he had died.
I suppose it's only to be expected that people we have got to know since we came to Álora get older and die but many of them don't even make it to 'three score years and ten'.
I don't know how old Paco was. His brother Julián died a couple of years ago and his brother Juan isn't looking too good either. After their mother died the three brothers seem to have lived mainly on Cruzcampo and were regular visitors to the Urgencias (A&E) department at El Clinico Hospital as a result of 'falls'.
Juan Mañoño last week after his latest 'fall'.
All the brothers were usally referred to as 'Mañoño', which is not their surname at all. Paco once showed me his DNI (ID) card because I didn't believe his age. His real name was Francisco Acedo Fernández. Paco is short for 'Francisco' but Paco's father's surname must have been 'Acedo' and his mother's surname must have been Fernández. In Spain everyone has two 'surnames'. Women keep their two surnames when they marry. They don't change their surnames to their husbands'. Mrs. Sánchez thinks that's a good idea but there are so many people called Sánchez or Sánchez Sánchez you probably wouldn't notice anyway if we did it.
The first surname is usually the one you are known by although some famous people, (authors, actors, corrupt politicians, etc) choose to be called by their third surname out of respect for their mothers or to avoid arrest.
...So Paco should have been known as Paco Acedo and Juan as Juan Acedo, Julián too, but they were all called 'Mañoño' (Man yon yo) I have never seen it written down.
Their father was also called Mañoño and his father too.. It's a family nickname that has been handed down through the generations. Many men have them (I don't know of any women who have them) and many of the those with them have no idea when or how the name originated.
Paco was a member of the Real Sacremental e Illustre Hermandad y Cofradía de Nazerenos de María Santisima de los Dolores Coronada y Soledad. (The Dolores Hermandad).
He was always ready and willing when hard work for the hermandad was needed and every year helped to carry the throne of The Virgin of Dolores up and down the steep streets of Álora during Semana Santa (Holy Week). The picture of him above shows him in his black Dolores cassock having a break from carrying the throne.You'd nearly always find him working behind the Dolores Hermandad bar (El Capirote) at the annual Romería too - as long as he was able to remain vertical.
Paco was great fun when he was younger and a good friend. One night in La Taverna de Antonio on La Rampa he collared me and launched into a long monologue in growly Andaluz .He'd had a few. I did a bit of head nodding and smiling which usually works as long as I'm not asked a question and tried desperately to identify a word or two to get some idea of what he was going on about. I still had no idea after 10 minutes. I turned to Antonio Martos, the owner and barman;
'I'm trying really hard but I can't understand a word'
'Don't worry. Nobody can'.
What a great bloke and a good friend even though I can't honestly say I ever understood a word he said in 17 years. We'll miss you.
Juanito Sánchez Sánchez
January 25th. 2018
