Álora's 'Game of Thrones. A Circus and a Monkey. Pies.
Dolores Coronada 2016
Only two weeks to go to Palm Sunday, the day we should arrive in Álora and take up residence in the Sánchez Spring Palace on Calle Benito Suarez. We'll be a bit late this year but in good time for the main events of the main event of the year - Semana Santa.(Holy Week). We missed it completely last year- an absence which did not go unnoticed. Nearly all of the many processions go past our door and it would not be going too far to say that Mrs. Sanchez, Tommy and I have become an essential and much loved element of the rich tapestry which is Holy Week in Álora. Our door is always open to desperate portaleros (throne carriers) who are bursting for a piss.
Tenacious readers of this humble organ will be aware of the role played by the hermandad and cofradia organisations who organise and pay for the tronos (thrones) which are paraded through the streets of the town during this most holy of weeks. Almost everyone belongs to one or more of them. Our neighbour, Juani belongs to all of them. We don't belong to any of the eight ( 6 of pasión and 2 of gloria) because no-one has invited us to join and because athiests are not generally encouraged. It is a religious festival when all said and done.
Despite our heretic status we are very pally with folk in both the two clubs in the Premier League; Nazarino de las Torres and Dolores Coronada (in no particular order) and we do get invited to some of their parties. They are both buena gente who manage to combine deep devotion with eating, drinking and having a good time. They both have sedes (headquarters) in Calle La Parra, on opposite sides of the street. Even though there is a fierce rivalry between the two hermandades they usually get on very well together and go to each other's parties. So do we, and we have to be very careful not to favour one or the other. The big event of the the week 'The Despedía' on Viernes Santo ( Good Friday) is a thinly disguised bit of sparring between the two tronos. Go and see it. It may end in a punch up one of these days.(2.30 pm. Plaza Baja. (Bottom Square) Bars are open for drinks and tapas.)
Semana Santa kicks off on Domingo Ramos (Palm Sunday) with the procession of La Póllinica which is Jesus on a donkey (not a real one). Tommy is particularly fond of this one. Here he is looking out for them (looking the wrong way).
Looking the wrong way Tommy.
Here they come.
We're going to miss this.
Easter is early this year so some of the processions may be cancelled. Rain on Good Friday spells disaster for all the bars in Álora but Manolo who runs Bar Mocho in the Plaza Baja would suffer more than most. It's one of only two big events which take place down there during the year.
Manolo at Bar Mocho
Why can't they make their minds up about when Easter Sunday is anyway? My vote would be for the second Sunday in April. We could work the other days out ourselves. Everyone would benefit. The Archbishop of Canterbury agrees with me and the Grimsby Evening Telegraph,.is running a referendum on it.
If David Cameron could get the EU to agree to it we'd be falling over each other to vote to stay in.
David Cameron and Chums
It's got to be better than waiting for a Paschal Moon (the first full moon after a vernal equinox) or we could have it when Greece has theirs, a week later. I can't see how it can make things any better if you live in Grimsby, though...or any worse for that matter.
Olivar Caicunes Olive Oil is proving popular in Birmingham. Next week it will be on sale at the annual St. Patrick's Day Market. ('Come and get a drop of the green stuff!'). We've even got a Facebook page.
Q. What have Liverpool and Manchester got in common?
A. The best Spanish restaurant north of Gijón.
Mrs. Sánchez and I went 'up north´ last weekend to see a pair of Áloraphiles who live near Glossop, Terry and Moira.
Up north
As luck would have it, Glossop is within striking distance of Manchester which now has a branch of Lunya (as in Cataluña). I may have gone on a bit about the one in Liverpool already in this organ; I lose track of what drivel I have already drivelled. Well, however good I said Lunya in Liverpool is, Lunya in Manchester is even better. Like the one in Liverpool it has a big 'deli' section, too, where you can salivate over Serrano hams, super olive oils, wines and all the gastronomic goodies that Spain has to offer. The food in the restaurant is very good indeed. It's not cheap and it's right across the road from a branch of La Tasca, which must be feeling the pinch a bit. The pulpo (octopus) is 'de puta madre'. I am not getting paid to write this. Honest.
You can even get genuine Manzanilla there, but you could buy a bottle of it in Álora for what they charge for a glass there.
Before Lunya we went for a drink in 'The smallest bar in Europe' but 'the biggest welcome in the world', 'The Circus'. Very cosy but no room to serve food so we went next door but one to The Old Monkey where they had stopped serving food. As luck would have it there is a chippy in between the two pubs so I bought their entire stock of hot pies and smuggled them into The Monkey.
The Circus
The Old Monkey
I know a Holland's meat pie when I see one and this one was a perfect specimen. Mmmmm.
Two good pubs with a good pie shop in between....the perfect sandwich.
While we're on the subject of pies, take a look a these little belters that I found in Oldham Indoor Market.
If you're looking at this on your phone, may I suggest you look at this little lot on your laptop at least. The variety is staggering. I couldn't manage the 'Desperate Dan' but I took home 4 beef dinkies and two suet puddings (which they call 'rag puddings' here). Pie Paradise.
Juanito Sánchez March 6th. 2016
Yippee! We're off to Álora tomorrow. I've given the Ryanair website my best shot. I've printed off the boarding passes and everything is spelt correctly (I double-double checked). I've avoided paying for a seat on the plane, priority boarding, insurance, extra bags, a hire car, a hotel and refused the invitation to sign an anti-trade union petition( Stop the Strikes. Sign now!). I would have been happy to pay a couple of euros for a little net on the back of the seat in front to hold my book and sandwiches but that wasn't an option. They will have to rest on my knee along with my bottle of vastly expensive spring water,(at £1.50 a litre it's much dearer than petrol), a sheaf of crossword puzzles, my iPod and Mrs. Sanchez's Hello! magazine. Mind you, where could you buy a bottle of petrol in Birmingham International Airport?
I don't find a trip on an aeroplane half as much fun as it used to be. Everyone says that the meals you got in the old days were rubbish but I liked them.
Mmmmmmmmmm.
I don't expect Álora will have changed much apart from having a big Santander Bank plonked in the Fuentearriba. The earthquake which shook the town a bit a couple of weeks ago didn't cause any damage as far as I know. Our back wall would be the first to go if a terremoto struck. We'll find out tomorrow.
I'm happy and relieved to report that Desirée Cortés has reappeared on Ayuntamiento photo shots. Here she is during the 'Carnaval' events yesterday (trust me to miss all the fun). I was going to quip something about her frightening the children but there's something about the sprog on the right (La Reina de Corazones/ The Queen of Hearts) which is more than a little disturbing. (She won the first prize in the children's section). Desireé ,Councillor in Charge of Fiestas (parties and holidays) is on the left, beaming.
Our distinguished Alcalde Jose Sánchez Moreno (no relation) seems to be managing without his crutches now. I must remember to ask him what that was all about when I see him tomorrow.
I thought Mardi Gras was supposed to be on a Tuesday, like its originator, Pancake Tuesday. They call it 'Carnaval' in Spain and the French don't even have a word for it. Anyway, we missed it and everybody seems to have had a good time.
The Fuentearriba (top square) was packed with fun loving fiesta-goers all day.
To be continued from sunny Spain.......
Álora. Thursday..............
It's raining. Mrs. Sánchez and I are happy about this because it's 'good for the olives'.
We were a little late (1 hour) arriving at Málaga (no fanfare from Ryanair this time). Here's why.
The 'Priority Boarding' queue had just made it past the boarding gate and into the draughty corridor (storm 'Imogen' was in full blow) when it was discovered that our plane was not certified to carry the enormous weight of passengers and baggage about to board it. Luckily Ryanair found us another plane pretty smartish (they have them parked all over the place, just in case there's a 'Weightwatchers' hen party booked in). It took a bit of time to swop the planes over and reload the bags, but in my opinion that's a small price to pay for the confidence that your plane might get off the ground.
After a struggle with a violent sociopath/employee at the Niza (a misspelling if ever I saw one) car hire office, off we headed to The 'Valle del Sol'.
The new Santander bank which used to be Cafe Central isn't open yet. The sunny doorway has been occupied by Francisco, a colourful local character who is paid by the ayuntamiento to stroll around town wth a sprig of rosemary in his top pocket, posing for photographs and looking colourful.
Francisco (looking colourful)
After checking that Francisco ('Don't call me Paco') was alive and well I headed for the Barbería Hermanos Cid for a long overdue corte de pelo (haircut)
The brothers Paco and Pepe Cid spotted me 100 metres away and welcomed me back like an old friend. You won't get a better haircut anywhere in Spain. You get the full works here. They even cut the hairs in your ears and nose and trim your eyebrows.
A haircut here can take anything between 15 minutes and half an hour depending on Pepe or Paco's interest in the discussions and arguments that go on all the time in their shop doorway. Paco or Pepe (I can never remember who is which) can be in full slash with the cut-throat when called to adjudicate in a heated dispute. All this for 8€ plus tip.
Barbería Hermanos Cid
We bumped into our much loved alcalde (mayor) Jose Sánchez Moreno (Call me 'Epi') (no relation) in Casa Abilio last night. He came over to say 'Holá'. I told him I was very pleased to see him without the muletas (crutches) and asked if he had sustained the injury whilst playing football. This tickled him no end and he confided in me that he had sprained an ankle whilst chasing his wife or running away from her or away from a woman or chasing a woman (mujer means wife AND woman). I really must get down to some serious Spanish revision.
Jose Sánchez Moreno (Epi) and others presenting the Chicken Show poster.
We may have missed Carnaval but we are just in time for the 1X Exposición de Gallinas Andaluzas Sureñas ( Ninth Exhibition of South Andalusian Chickens). Here is Epi presenting the poster for this ever popular show. There wll be 400 examples of these fine birds on show and there are prizes for the best plumage etc. I wish every bird the best of cluck.
Incredible but true! At the same time and in the same building we also have the annual Mercado del Queso Tradicional Andalus (Local Cheese Fair). What a double treat! Chickens and Cheeses.
(I'm thinking 'Chicken Kiev').
A double delight.
Rain was forecast yesterday so off we went with Graham and Mary to visit one of Málaga's many museums. We were headed for the Museo Interactivo de la Música which seemed as good a place as any to spend a wet afternoon.
As it turned out the sun was shining as we emerged from Central Station so we went for a coffee and replanned the day. Shopping for Mary and Mrs. S. and a few beers at La Cueva for Graham and me.
La Cueva is not the most atmospheric of Málaga bars but they do give you a free selection of pork products to nibble at (served on a sheet of greaseproof paper) whilst knocking back a few Alhambra beers and fighting off beggars and lottery ticket sellers. 'The ladies' appeared after an hour or so which meant more beer and more chacina. That was when the sound of a flamenco guitar approached. 'Here come the buskers!' we groaned. A familiar diminutive figure then came into view. It was Pepito el Gorrión and his guitar accompanist.
Pepito El Gorrión
Pepito is from Álora and sings flamenco and he's not bad at it either and he dances too. He used to be a familiar sight in the 'old quarter' of Málaga but I hadn't seen him for a few years. I presumed he had gone to the great peña flamenca in the sky but no! I was so pleased to see him I gave him all my loose change. In return he pretended he knew me, which impressed Graham and Mary no end, and sang me a song about meeting an old friend. What fun!
The rest of the day was a blur. What a great place Málaga is.
Juanito Sánchez
February 12th. 2016
