Paco Mañoño
The first thing to say about Paco Mañoño (Man-yon-yo) is that 'Paco Mañoño' was not his name. He was known by everyone as just 'Mañoño', but so were his brothers, his uncles and grandfather too. It's a family 'apodo' (nickname) and lots of families in Álora have them. Nobody can remember why Paco's family were given this one, it's not offensive at all and most people are proud of their family apodo. I had to make up the spelling because I've never seen it written until I just wrote it. I doubt if anyone has seen it written.. Paco Mañoño had more than his fair share of apodos because 'Paco' is an apodo too!
Paco showed me his DNI (ID) card once during a heated, if perplexing, discussion about his age. The picture was him all right, same very serious face, but his nombre de pila (Christian name) was given as 'Francisco' and neither of his two apellidos (surnames) was Mañoño. I didn't believe his date of birth either - Paco had lived a hard life, though. I lost the bet about his age.
'Paco' and 'Curro' are short for Francisco (nobody knows why), in the same way that Pepe is short for José, Lalo is short for Eduardo and Maripepa is short for Maria José. It must have been great fun making all these apodos up.
Some Franciscos don't like being called Paco at all, and prefer Franci (Fransie) which sounds a bit posher, and a bit gay, in my opinion.
Generalisimo Francisco Franco Bahamonde, Dictator of Spain from 1939 to 1975 was sometimes referred to as Paco or even Paquiito (little Paco), but not to his face and only by people who were tired of living.
'Don't call me Paco, please,sir. My name's really Francisco'.
Paco Mañoño was one of 5 Mañoño brothers. I only ever met three of them ; Paco, Juan and Rafael. They lived in a house in Alora's most picturesque street, Calle Negrillos, just off La Plaza de la Fuente Arriba (the Top Square), with their mother until she died about ten years ago.
Although Paco, Rafael and Juan shared a common interest, alcohol, you never saw them together. Raphael didn't go out much anyway, but the other two could be seen most days around the Top Square having risen early that morning to grab all the smartest clothes.
Paco would usually stride through the town from end to end and back again, bent forward, with his hands clasped behind his back, looking serious. Juan busied himself arranging chairs outside the bars and collecting a few empty glasses. I don't know if anyone ever paid him. Paco had a proper job in Marbella until the 'crisis' of 2008 and so had enough money to drink in the bars around the Square that still allowed him in. It's hard to imagine it now, but none of the bars in La Plaza de la Fuente Arriba had tables outside until quite recently. Smokers and non-smokers mingled happily together inside the bars in all weathers or spilled out onto the square. Spitting out sunflower husks was compulsory, ashtrays were rare and all litter was dropped on the floor to be swept up by the camarero (waiter/barman) later on. Ah! The good old days.
The recession and the death of their mother set the Mañoños further down the downward slope. At about this time Paco and Juan could often be spotted passing through the square sporting a variety of injuries - black eyes, broken bones, bandaged heads etc. We suspected domestic violence, but it turned out these were self-inflicted wounds.
Juan Mañoño (with wounds
One of the natural enemies of the dedicated drinker in all cultures is gravity, and falling over is an occupational hazard, particularly at night. In Álora it usually involves landing on a hard surface.There's no shortage of those in Álora, indoors or out, and there are few, if any, stair carpets. The Mañoños had an abono de temporada (season ticket) for 112 (the emergency ambulance service). The paramedics had their address in 'my destinations' on their TomTom and allowed the brothers a small discount if they injured themselves away from home. Calle Negrillos is a steep, stepped street. (another potential death trap for the careless inebriate and someone with a lisp), so recovering an unconscious injured person from down there can be tricky.
Mrs. Sánchez and I first met Paco Mañoño in La Taberna de Antonio on Calle La Rampa back in 2001. In those days 'Antonio's was popular with members of the Real, Sacramental y Ilustre Hermandad y Cofradía de Nazarenos de María Santísima de los Dolores Coronada y Soledad, better known to us as 'The Dolores Crowd', a local religious club dedicated to the most important statue of the Virgin Mary in the town. Paco loved The Virgin of Dolores more than anything in the world, even Cruzcampo.
Dolores Coronada coming down our street.
We used to spend a lot of time in Antonio's in those days - well, almost every night to be honest. Ana Molina (Mrs. Antonio), who did all the cooking for the restaurant, befriended us on the first day we showed up in Álora. and from then on she was reponsible for our social lives for the next ten years.
'No te precupes, Juan, ni yo tampoco.'
('Don't worry, Juan, I can't either')
We became so pally with the Dolores Crowd that we half expected to be invited to join the club. We were invited to many of their 'do's', which always involved food and drink. I was once asked to photograph the investiture of their new Hermana Mayor, Ana Molina's cousin, also called Ana Molina. It was a long time before we realised that all these do's were ´fund-raisers' for the big event of the year, Semana Santa, when Dolores, the star of the Easter processions, has to look in tip-tippety-top condition, out-flowering and out-candle-ing all the other virgins and most importantly, Jesus de las Torres, her main rival and partner in La Despedía show on Viernes Santo (Good Friday).
El Señor Jesús de las Torres and his mum, La Virgen de Dolores Coronada, say their goodbyes (despedía) in La Plaza de la Despedía (the Bottom Square) before he is whisked away up the very steep Calle Ancha by some strapping young soldiers to the castillo (castle) where he will meet his fate.
Paco Mañoño was always ready to help out with any work that the Dolores Crowd needed doing. Despite his wayward ways he was liked and respected within the Hermandad and took part in the processions. In the picture at the top he is wearing the black cassock and badge of the Dolores Hermadad. Even though Cruzcampo cerveza (or San Miguel or Alhambra) was his second passion he would not normally be seen drinking on parade. On this rainy Viernes Santo the procession had halted in the top square for a decision to be made about whether to call it a day or carry on and risk getting Dolores wet. As luck would have it they put The Virgin down on her special stand right outside Café/Bar Madrugón. Miraculously a large glass of Cruzcampo appeared in Paco's hand. Eventually the hermanos and hermanas decided to carry on with the procession, amid loud cheering from the well-oiled devotees and spectators.
Every year, but not this year, after the Despedía performance has finished, the entire Dolores Crowd, the forty or so soldiers plus other hangers-on head up to Los Conejitos restaurant for a slap-up lunch. The still hungry and thirsty crowds head up Calle Atras for the busy bars in the Top Square to make way for a gang of council workers to begin the work of clearing the bottom square, which is usually knee-deep in empty beer cans, paper plates, plastic tumblers and sunflower seed husks.
I strolled down there one year to take some artistic shots of the rubbish and came across Paco Mañoño sitting on the steps of the Parroquía, still in his cassock, smoking a cigarette. He looked only a little worse for wear, but I'd presumed he would be up at Los Conejitos with rest of the Dolores Crowd. Apparently you have to pay for the meal. It was always hard to judge Paco's mood - he always looked a bit melancholy. Perhaps it didn't bother him, but he deserved better than that.
La Virgen de las Flores.
Every hot September, but not this year Álora celebrates another important virgin, La Virgen de las Flores (The Virgin of the Flowers). After nine days of misas (masses) leading up to The Day of the Virgin (September 9th.) Alora's 'romería' takes place.
On the first Sunday following September 9th. La Virgen de las Flores sets off, on her throne, from La Plaza Baja de la Despedía (AKA. The bottom Square) and up the steep Calle Atrás, pulled by two prodded cows . In the Top Square she meets a procession of decorated carts, tractors, lorries and horsesmen,with their riders and señoritas in traditional costumes, all well provisioned with food and drink (ice-cold beer or ice-cold dry Manzanilla 'sherry').They all follow her up the old Ardales road to El Convento Las Flores where a few thousand revellers have already started a big party in her honour.
It's a big day and lots of fun. It's also a big day for the Dolores Hermandad (Brotherhood) which sets up a long bar and a massive toldo (a canopy for shade- it's usually baking hot) called El Capirote which supplies food and drink, at a price. It's their biggest fund-raising event of the year.
El Capirote (view from the bar)
