The Walk of the Living Dead and Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells.

                      Mr. and Mrs. Sánchez leave Portsmouth on The MV Cap Finisterre

Only 5 weeks to go before we are due to go back to Álora for our Spring Sojourn. Also only 5 weeks before Good Old Great Britain gives two fingers to the European Union, lights the blue touch paper and f****s off into the unknown.

We have no idea what will be waiting for us when we come back, if, indeed, we can get back. I went to the Post Office last week to buy two 'International Driving Permits' so that we can drive in Spain legally after Brexit.
I dread to think how the Guardia Civil will treat British drivers in Spain- most of this fine body of men (I suppose they have women 'civiles' too, although I've never seen one) don't even know what the current regulations are.
We have been advised to leave before Brexit so that the dogs' passports will be valid. I actually spoke to a very nice and civil civil servant at the Department of the Environment last week who assured me that the dogs will be allowed back whatever happens, but only to the UK, so if we have to drive through France we could be turned back at the border. Hey ho.

As Man Not in Álora at the moment, I like to keep an eye on the goings-on down there in sunny Ándalucía and for this  information I depend on Peggy, who lives in a two-man tent in North Wales, to keep me al día ( up to date) via her Facebook group 'Tips for Living in and Around Álora'.
I was sorry to miss the annual Fiesta de la Matanza (the Slaughter Festival) again in Ardales, a  village up the road.

                                            How`s this for a big porky stew?

The current fashion for veganism in the UK hasn't reached Ardales yet. The Ardaleans are known (by some) for their enormous appetites, bad table manners and poor personal hygiene. Indeed, when a Perote (Aloranean) sees somebody with food on their face they immediately exclaim 'Ardales!' The messy culprit wipes off the mess and everyone has a good laugh. (except in Ardales.)  I asked a chap once, who admitted to being of the Ardales persuasion, if he knew of this custom and HE HAD NO IDEA! He added that his village called all Perotes 'Brutos' (ignorant louts). Flipping nerve!

When we were in Álora a few weeks ago to do a bit of pruning, all the talk was of the presence of a film crew from  'A Place in the Sun', the popular English daytime TV blockbuster which has done so much to persuade gullible Brits to buy properties in Spain which they can't afford. I watched the programme a couple of weeks ago and recognised the houses featured in Álora. The very nice,  featured couple bought a house on Calle Zapata just round the corner from us, so I would like to apologise for what I have just written and look forward to meeting them very soon.
Perhaps you are  even actually reading this tripe. I'm from Lancashire too, so I hope we can be pals.

It looks like there are going to be more elections in Spain- a General one in April and  the Álora local elections in May. For reasons I can not establish, Mrs. Sánchez and I are eligible to vote in the local elections even if we leave the EU. Beats me.

There's so much going on down there. The annual Álora Painting and Sculpture Competition (we'll miss that). The Annual Cockerel Competion (we'll miss that- no regrets, the pong in there is dreadful), Carnival (we'll miss that too).

Back here in Brum, Mrs.S. and I have been busy doing a bit of decorating, dancing and discovering England. I'm happy to say that her indoors's broken leg is as good as new, if not better. She goes to a yoga class twice a week and tries to go for an early morning swim two or three times a week. She did 50 lengths of the pool today and would have done more but the Park Keeper blew his whistle and made her get out. Apparently there's a pair of great crested grebes nesting on the island.
The downside to this brilliant recovery is that we've started to go dancing again,

It all started years ago when I had a bad back and, during a particularly agonising spasm, I foolishly swore that 'if this back ever gets better I'll agree to having dancing lessons'. I must say that I'd imagined myself cutting a bit of a dash doing the Rumba, Salsa, Cha Cha Cha and Tango. And I've always believed that  I have 'natural perfect rhythm'.

   Mr.and Mrs, Sánchez doing the Tango  (in my imagination)

After two or three years of expensive lessons we could get round the room without having to stop too many times (which messes all the other hoofers up as they have to get round you, like avoiding a rusty exhaust pipe on the M6). But these days we've forgotten most of our 'moves' and 'Strictly Balloom' has killed off many of the old dance venues because it all looks too difficult on the telly and those frocks cost an arm and a leg..

Any road up, we went, a week last Saturday, to a Dance in Solihull. They don't do those sexy Latin dances much now- it's all Sequence Dancing, which is a like a mixture of The Barn Dance, The Minuet and Line Dancing (but in a circle). Everybody does the same thing at the same time, which mainly involves walking, turning round, clapping and shouting 'Oi' from time to time. Nobody smiles much and the only thing that appeals to me is the unusual names they give to these 'Walks of the Living Dead'. Here's a few of my favourites:

The Saunter Together
The Autumn Foxtrot
The Oriental Cha Cha Cha
The Fish Supper Foxtrot
The Alamein Saunter
The Crematorium Shuffle
The Dunkirk Stroll
The Anzac Tango
The Rumba Andalusia!!!
and that old Yorkshire favourite The Owmuch Waltz.

If you think I'm making these up, Google them.

Discovering England

I heard the other week that Edinburgh is going to have a Tourist Tax. Everyone will have to pay £3.00 to visit this very interesting and historic Scottish City. I think it's taking a bit of a liberty, even for the Scots, so I've decided to visit as many interesting English towns as I can before they start charging too!

Interesting English Towns of England .

1, Royal Tunbridge Wells

Royal Tunbridge Wells is in Kent, where our daughter lives, and a long way from anywhere I have lived. Coming from The North of England I've always imagined that rural towns in The South are full of historic half-timbered buildings, posh cafés, delicatessens and traditional English shops like Ironmongers, Greengrocers, Bakers and Confectioners, Family Butchers and old pubs selling local ales.
(Author's note: This is what a lot of people who voted to leave Europe in our Great Referendum dream of too).

                                       How I imagined Royal Tunbridge Wells

Royal Tunbridge Wells is  a Spa Town and one of the only four towns in England to be allowed to call itself 'Royal'. Its most famous inhabitant is known as 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells'

Nobody knows who 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells' is, or was, but during the 1950s he or she wrote a lot of letters to The Tunbridge Wells Advertiser and signed themselves 'Disgusted' or 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells'. It seemed that many of Tunbridge Wells's inhabitants felt very angry about so many things and soon people were writing to The Times newspaper using the same name. Michael Caine's second most memorable quote out of two is;

Here's a typical letter:

SIR - Being present at the unveiling of the plaque on Thursday last week on the Pantiles I was surprised when the National Anthem was played to see that in a place like Tunbridge Wells which is noted for its loyalty and calls itself "Royal" there should be people who refused to remove their hats.Are such people communists? If they are, Tunbridge Wells should be no place for such as they. We can do without them.

I don't know if they got rid of all the communists but they gave Cheeky Chappy and, some would say, racist comedian Jim Davidson the bum's rush when he tried to do a show there in 2015.
Jim Davidson  .

It turns out that Tunbridge Wells isn't very old at all. It only exists because in 1606 a thirsty fat aristocrat who'd had far too many G&Ts, Mutton Pies and Quails in Aspic, drank some water from a spring there and felt better. He was called Dudley North and should not be confused with the West Midlands  parliamentary constituency of the same name, currently represented at Westminster by Ian Austin, a political turncoat and apologist for Israel's oppression of the Palestinian people.

The magic ingredient in the water was iron. Lord Dudley immediately bought up all the water spring rights, hot-footed it back to London and told all his lazy, fat, dissipated, gin-soaked mates in the St. James's Gentlemen's clubs all about the iron rich chalybeate rocks and the magic spring water down in Kent.

Very soon a town grew to supply the needs of hundreds of toffs who spent their perpetual spare time touring the Spa towns of England -- Bath Spa, Leamington Spa, Boston Spa etc. looking for miraculous waters that could cure their real or imagined ailments which  could have easily been sorted out by a day's work, a Cornish pastie and a good slap.

The emphasis was on luxury and fashion. By 1750  you could buy everything the well-heeled Spa - goer needed in Tunbridge Wells;  tooled snuff boxes, china  teapots, wigs, quails' eggs, peacock pies and gumballs, to name but a few.

                                                 A Dandy with a 'macaroni' wig.

Men called 'Dandies' flounced around in 'macaroni' wigs and led the entertainments. The most famous were Beau Brummel and Beau Nash who could be found any day of the week strutting their stuff in Bath, Tunbridge Wells and London. Their real names weren't really  'Beau', that was just a name given to well known Dandies.

                                                        Beau Brummel

The smaller Spa towns, Buxton, Leamington, Tenbury and Llandindrod had their own dandies too , such as Beau Bridges, Beau Duke, Beau Legges  and Beau Diddley.

These days Tunbridge Wells looks as shabby as a run-down town anywhere in England. It's pedestrianised centre is full of the usual  closed shops, Poundland, charity shops and fast food places. It's no wonder that the people there are disgusted.
A few miles up the road, Tonbridge, isn't much different, except for the spelling, but at least it's got a Waitrose (it's got two!) So much for the wealthy home counties.

There was unbridled joy last January when this notice appeared outside the abandoned  Shell petrol station in Tunbridge Wells.-- only to be cruelly quashed when the truth was revealed.
There was not going to be a new Waitrose at all! The new shop at the shell garage would stock some Waitrose products 'including meals for two', that's all.
To add insult to injury, someone put the word round again that Waitrose was coming to a closed down branch of Woolworths but it was opened as a Poundland instead. The 56,000 inhabitants were said to be beside themselves.

Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells was unavailable for comment.

Pie News.

Poundland in Stratford-Upon-Avon has Fray Bentos tinned pies.
Get down there fast, while stocks last .


 Juanito Sánchez January 18th. 2019.


 

The End of an Era in Álora. 'The Incorruptible One' Steps Down.

The End of An Era in Álora. 'The Incorruptible One' Steps Down.

Mrs.Sánchez and I are recovering from a short sojourn in the sunny south of Spain. Despite the stalwart efforts of Ryanair to make our trip as difficult and uncomfortable as possible, we were able to bask in the the warm winter sun for a few days whilst carrying out essential work in our Álora garden and on the family estate in Casarabonela that we call Olivar Caicunes. This time last year we made a similar trip, carefully choosing the dates to coincide with a luna menguante (a waning moon) which we were told would give us a better crop of grapes, and it worked!

I don't know what I did wrong but I ended up booking flights that got us there at the start of a waxing moon instead. I'm  blaming that on Ryanair,  who were selling flights for 18.99 each way, but only during a waxing moon. Ryanair are now saying that they are selling their flights too cheaply!
I managed to navigate through their web page without spelling my name wrong or booking a hotel, car hire or reserving a seat; all of which would have added to the bill, but I thought we would need 'hand luggage' or what they now call 'cabin bags', for a couple of changes of clothes, a few mouth organs, a bluetooth speaker, books and sandwiches- the usual stuff. You've got to book 'Priority Class' now to take a bag on the plane, which cost us more than the tickets.

Ryanair decided to teach us a lesson for not booking seats in advance ( 9.00 each) by putting me on row 8 and Mrs.S. on row 33, right outside the toilets. She didn't seem to mind at all! Have I mentioned that Mr S.likes nothing better than to engage strangers in conversation? Well, she had a regular captive supply of new chums to chat to about Brexit as they waited, with plaited legs and strained facial expressions, for the lavatory.

We're very worried about Brexit. We want Britain to stay in the EU. So do Tommy and Monty. At the moment we can take the dogs to and from Spain in our car using Pet Passports as long as we keep their rabies jabs up to date, but after March 29th. their passports will be invalid and nobody knows what will happen if there's no withdrawal agreement. We've booked tickets that get us into Spain on the 28th.of March so we should be able to get back to Álora by the 29th.We have no idea how we'll get back. No doubt, in this best of all possible worlds, common sense will prevail and everything will turn out all right in the end.

Also, the EHIC European Health Card which allows us to get free emergency medical treatment in Spain (two broken legs, a broken shoulder and a broken wrist so far) will become invalid on March 29th. Health insurance for old codgers like us costs an arm and a leg.......

The EHIC card.

Despite our health cover we both came back with colds, the one addition to your flight that Ryanair do not charge for.

Álora hadn't changed much in the six weeks we'd been away. The big news was that our much loved and hardworking Alcalde (Mayor )( José Sánchez Moreno - Epi to his friends and no relation) is stepping down from his post.

Here he is opening a photography exhibition this week (looks a bit chilly down there).

He has been in the post for 16 years, having being re-elected several times. He holds the rare qualification of being a Spanish politician who has never been convicted or even accused of corruption while holding public office. Well done Epi! (You never did put in those drains that you promised us, though.).

During the property boom years in the early 2,000s it seemed as though alcaldes and their pals were being locked up all over Andalucía.
In 2013 there were reported to be 1661 politicians accused of corruption in Spain.
541 of them were in Andalucía.
200 were in Valencia
but only 4 in Rioja.

Andalucía's most famous corrupt politician was Jesús Gil in Marbella. They never brought him to book.

                                    Jesús Gil with some of his closest advisers


At the moment everyone in Andalucía is waiting anxiously for news about the 2 year old boy, Julen Roselló who fell down a well near Totolán, Malaga Province, 9 days ago. He was picnicking with his parents at the time. The well is more than 300ft (94.1 metres) deep and only 12 inches (30cm.) wide and Julen is thought to be 200 ft (60.96metres) down. Rescuers  have been working day and night to reach the boy by drilling another shaft parallel to the well. Miners from Asturias are leading the drilling. Today they hope to begin drilling horizontally and find the lad.

The drilling of these pozos('wells')  was very commonplace a few years ago. Developers would buy a cheap piece of land with no water supply which could not be built on. If and when they found water, the value of the land shot up ; huge profits were made this way. This particular hole had only been covered by a pile of stones with no warning notice.

                                                 Dawn in Casarabonela

The almond trees are in blossom at the moment. We have a few up on our olive patch which we call Olivar Caicunes . Mrs. S. and I went up there early on Saturday morning with Chuster and his cuñado (brother-in-law) to prune our olives. (even though it was during a waxing moon). We arrived as dawn was breaking and the work started immediately. Chuster and his oppo pruned our olives last time and I'd hoped to be able to do them myself this year. It took them about 4 hours to do the lot (124 trees) and clear up the mountains of branches removed, ready for burning. (It has to be done before 1st. May.)

The next step is to put down organic fertiliser - 6 kilos a tree. I'm leaving that to Chuster (his real name is Salvador) too.
He works so quickly that neither Mrs.S. nor I noticed that a recently planted almond tree had been chopped back to its slender trunk. We were staring at it in amazement and dismay when Chuster strode up out of the olives.

'I'm going to put some plums on that', he announced.
It's true that you can graft prunes onto almond trees; they're both of the genus Prunus, along with peaches and cherries and I've seen plums growing on almond trees, but Mrs. S. doesn't like plums.
.
'Do you want black plums or white plums?'
'Er......both'
'Vale'. (OK)
So that`s that.

Speaking of olives, it's just been announced that there has been a 20% drop in olive oil consumption in Spain over the last 10 years :

2008 :    425 million litres
2017:     324 million litres

Hard to believe or what?
Apparently the drop in consumption is mainly among 'young people'  who are turning away from 'The Mediterranean Diet' in which olive oil plays a big role.

Also there has been a big price hike over the last few years, from €2.47 to €4.02 a litre (a rise of 63%!)

Some people might suspect that the price rise in Spain has a lot to do with the the big increase in demand  for Spanish olive oil abroad, particularly from Italy which continues to import Spanish oil and bottle it as 'Italian'. I couldn't possibly comment.

Our own Olivar Caincunes Raw Unfiltered Olive Oil continues to be reasonably priced and very tasty too.


The improvements which our Ayuntamieto began up Calle Ancha as part of a big improvement in what they call El Arrabal (The Poor Quarter) continue.

Following resounding popular acclaim for the 'stairway to heaven' or 'road to nowhere', half way up Calle Ancha, work is well underway to build a 'mirador' (viewing area) round the back of the Castillo Arabe.

At the moment you would have to climb up to the castle and look over the low wall to to see the stunning views. It already IS a mirador.


They built one down in La Plaza Baja de la Despedía,  El Mirador de Cervantes. It is very beautiful and commemorates the time that Miguel Cervantes, author of Spain's only famous book, Don Quijote, spent in Álora a few years ago.

                                                  El Mirador de Cervantes

There was a big opening ceremony with the town band playing selections from 'Man of La Mancha' (To Dream the Impossible Dream etc.) Since it was opened it has remained locked except for special occasions such as Sopas Perotas Day, The Despedia and National Mirador Day. The lady who runs the kiosco next door has a key and will let you in if she is satisfied that you won't piddle in the pool, pinch the plants, smoke marijuana or look scruffy.
Needless to say,  it doesn't get many visitors.

Let's hope that the new mirador will be as successful.

I'm rather proud to say that I am resposible for the 'improvements' made at number 29 Calle De Benito Suarez. 
For many years number 29 has been falling down. In the 50s and 60s it was a shop and the interior hasn't changed in the last 70 years. The  lady who owned it, Ana, made no attempt to repair it and it had become dangerous. The front doorway has been propped up for a few years. My neighbours whose house adjoins Number 29 have been increasingly anxious that it may fall down and take part of their house with it.
I advised them to take out a denuncia (an official complaint) which I wrote out for them just before  we came back to England in November.
Well I never! The Ayuntamiento has taken action and made it safe. I'm so proud. It looks so much nicer now, don't you think?

Pie News

Who doesn't remember the Fray Bentos Steak and Kidney Pie?

We always had one in the cupboard in case supplies of real pies dried up (it never happened) or if we were snowed in and couldn't get out to the shops (which did). I can't remember a time when Fray Bentos Pies did not exist.
In fact, they have been on the shelves of Great Britain and Northern Ireland since 1961. You need a tin opener to remove the lid, then you pop it in the oven for 25 minutes, the pastry puffs up and the filling starts to bubble.
For nearly 70 years, thousands of people have successfully opened and heated up a Fray Bentos Pie and tucked in.
Now the company is owned by Baxters Food Group and they have responded to complaints from customers who are unable to open the tin. One hungry and petulant pie punter wrote;

“It is official, after three years of having this pie under my bed in my emergency food box it's going in the bin.”

People just don't know how to use tin openers any more; it's all ring pulls now.
For donkeys' years Fray Bentos have sold their corned beef (also delicious) in lethal steel containers which are almost guaranteed to land you up in A&E with a severed finger or two when you try to use the 'key' to tear back the razor sharp lid . Even so, fearless consumers have continued to buy the stuff by the megaton.
Baxters have rejected the 'ring pull' as too dangerous and are planning to redesign the tin.

How can Great Britain hope to go it alone if the Brits can't even use a tin opener?

We didn't use all our expensive baggage allowance on the way back because Mrs.S. left hers in Álora. Don't ask.

Juanito Sánchez. January 22nd 2019 .

Catherine of Aragon, Pomegranates, Piecrusts and Graverobbers.

Catherine of Aragon, Henry Vlll, Pomegranates, Piecrusts and Graverobbers.

On Sunday, as Mrs. Sánchez and I, with heavy hearts, were undressing our Christmas tree and packing up our traditional festive fairy lights, our neighbour, Chalkie, rang to tell me that nearby Blakesley Hall was open to the public with no admission charge. He only lives across the road and could have just shouted or rung our bell, but English people are not as 'abierto' (open) as Spanish people, especially now we are about to turn our backs on Europe and try to keep out 'foreigners'.
Well, I'd no idea how much the admission charge is normally but I just can't resist a bargain, so off we went. It was a crisp,sunny winter's day. Blakesley Hall is in Yardley in Birmingham ,about 20 minutes from our Winter Quarters, where we have overwintered  for 35 years, and we've never been there before.
                                                            Blakesley Hall

 I didn't know much about Yardley except that it doesn't make cosmetics and it used to have a pub with the longest bar in Europe -The Swan- which everybody called 'The Swan at Yardley', probably because that's where it was and because there had been a pub there on Coventry Road since 1600.

                                                     The Swan at Yardley

It was knocked down in 1997 as was the The Swan Centre, known affectionately as 'The Ugly Duckling ' which was the ugliest shopping centre in Birmingham , if not the whole of the West Midlands.

                                    The Swan Centre 2009 (It's a Tesco Extra now)

So what's all this got to do with Spain, pomegranates and Henry Vlll?

Not much, but I'm supposed to writing about Álora and Spain, so if you bear with me for a minute, all will be revealed.

Say Hello to Dennis, who volunteers at Blakesley Hall on Wednesdays. He gave up his Sunday to show Mrs. Sánchez and I round the creaky old place. He managed to keep my attention for an hour and a half, which is not bad going, and he's only been doing it since April.

All the years and hundreds of times that I've driven down the A45 Coventry Road through Yardley on the way to  the airport or the municial dump or even Coventry, I had no idea that the land around me was once owned by the youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain (Los Reyes Catolicos) Catherine of Aragon.

                                        Catalina de Aragon (Catherine of Aragon)

Anyone who went to school or watches the telly (some people qualify twice) knows that Catherine of Aragon (Catalina de Aragon) was Henry the Eighth's first wife (one who didn't get the chop).  She was dumped by him after, 7 pregnancies, for Ann Boleyn (who did get the chop 3 years later). Some say it served her right.
Catherine was a very popular queen, even if Henry didn't fancy her, and they loved her to bits in Yardley. She had a perfect complexion (as you can see the picture) and the story goes that when, in 1770, a new  cosmetic company was looking for a name for their product. They chose  'Catherine of Aragon'

"Use Aragon and thy wrinkles be gone"

but they were banned from using her name  by George lll because of Lege-majesté.

Catherine was very fond of pomegranates, which were introduced into Spain by the 'Moors', and she chose them as her emblem when she came to England in 1501 to marry Henry's big brother, Prince Arthur Tudor, who was heir to the Throne of England. They got engaged (betrothed) when she was 10 years old and married by proxy when she was 14. The couple moved to Wales and Arthur died 5 months later of a mysterious illness. In those days all illnesses were mysterious. It could have been a dodgy granada (pomegranate).

                                                       Yardley Old Church

Dennis told us that if you go to nearby Yardley Old Church (built in the 13th. century) and  look above the original oak door you can see a Tudor rose and a pomegranate which were put there to commemorate the wedding of Catherine and the doomed prince.

 Here's a couple of other things that Dennis told us:

1.The reason that Tudor beds are a bit short is NOT because people were smaller in the olden days but because they used to sleep sitting up in bed to help their digestion after eating all that red meat.

2.Henry the Eighth was 6 ft. 4inches (1.93 metres) tall and he only looks small in the pictures because he had a 52 inch (1.32meters) waist. (very handy if you go shopping for trousers in The Sales).

3. He didn't get fat by eating all the pies because in the olden days they didn't eat the crust.

                                                      Tasty Tudor pies
What a waste!!!

My favourite piece of Dubious Dennis Data is about milk maids who often contracted cowpox from the cows. This made them immune to smallpox when everyone else was going down with it and ensured a pock-marked free visage. And that's why all the chaps used to fancy the milkmaids!
Nice one Dennis.

                                                                A milkmaid

Back to Alora 

Mrs. S and I are off to Álora tomorrow to do a bit of gardening. Last year we pruned the grape vine during a waning moon according to local custom and we had the best crop for years. Unfortunately we could only get a flight at the end of a waning moon this time so, as the Perotes say:
'To' pa' na'' (All for nothing).
The olives need pruning and our good friends from Ireland, Graham and Mary, will be there at the same time so it's worth a few hours of ritual humiliation by Ryanair which seems to go out of its way to make your journey unpleasant and stressful.
After paying more for a couple of pieces of hand luggage than I did for the flights, I decided not to pay another £24 to 'book a seat'. They have allocated us 'random' seats. Mine is in row 8 and Mrs. Sanchez in on row 33, right at the back of the plane by the toilets.
That will teach me to cross Ryanair!

Monty and Tommy have been sentenced to a week's incarceration at the 'Hylton Hound Hotel'.

                                                    Can't we stay here?

It will be good to get away from Brexit for a bit but Spain is having its own problems at the moment. The Andalusian Parliament (Junta) has been taken over by the Partido Popular and Cuidadanos who need the far right party Vox in order to govern. Vox have 14 seats and are threatening to withdraw their support unless the laws against violence against women are dropped........Sound familiar?

The other big struggle is the plan to 'dig up Franco's body'. He is, at the moment, interred in the massive mausoleum at El Valle de los Caidos north of Madrid alongside the founder of the Spanish 'Falange' (Spanish Fascist Party), José Antonio Primo de Rivera.


José can stay where he is because he actually was one of 'los caidos' (the fallen) as he was killed in the Civil War. Franco died with his boots on in 1975 so he's got to go. The other reason is that 'Franco's Tomb' is the focus for gatherings of Spain's neo-fascists who want a return to a fascist dictatorship and make a lot of noise and wave flags. The' Law of Historic Memory' allows  the exhumation and removal of the Generalisimo (so far no-one can agree what to do with the bodyonce it's been dug up..

The priest is in charge of the mausoleum, Benedictine monk Prior Santiago Cantera has said that he will refuse to allow the exhumation to happen. Of course, he will be breaking the law and there will be be a big fuss and even violent demonstrations.
Santiago Cantera has had an interesting career:

Before becoming a Benedictine monk he stood in the 1993 General Election on behalf of the 'Partido Falange Espanola Independiente' (Independent Spanish Falange). He lost.

In 1994 he stood in the European Elections on the same ticket. He lost.

He took holy orders as a Benedictine monk

He got the job of looking after Franco's tomb.

Hmmmm.

Pie News 

Just before Christmas I was introduced to a little gem of a café on Market Street in Shaw, near Oldham. It's called Meats and Eats and they specialise in home made pies.

I had a 'Jackson's Farm Fare Traditional Beef Pudding' with mushy peas, chips and gravy with a cup of tea. Scrumptious. I bought a big cheese and onion pie (homemade) to take back to Birmingham. It travelled well and was delicious.

New feature......Interesting Pie facts.

The world's most expensive pie was sold in Novenber 2005 at The Fencegate Inn, Lancashire (of course). It was served to eight (presumably rich, hungry and stupid) people at £1024 a slice.

Recipe

£500 worth of Japanese wagyu beef fillet
Chinese matsutake mushrooms
French Bluefoot mushrooms
Winter Black truffles
Gravy made from 2 bottles of 1982 Chateau Mouton Rothchild wine
For a topping- edible gold leaf.

I hope they got chips and mushy peas with it!

Juanito Sanchez January 9th. 2019.


 

Half Blog. Half Biscuit. Borders, Blunders and Bourbons.

Half Blog. Half Biscuit. Borders, Blunders and Bourbons.

It´s 8.07am. and dawn is breaking here over Birmingham to the sound of rain hammering on the flat roof of our living room extension. Good to be back. 

It was raining when we abandoned Álora again last Saturday at about the same hour. In June we left nursing fractured limbs - this time we left behind a complete corte de luz (power cut). ElectroDavid bravely struggled to rescue us on Friday night but he gave up looking for the fault after 2 hours of pulling wires, ripping off 'junction box' covers (I never knew we had so many) and shaking his head. All by torch and candlelight.

'The problem is that the cables (wires) go under the marble floors and inside the walls. The fault could be anywhere and there's no macaroni'. he pronounced. 'You will need all the cables replaced.'
 

                       


 no macaroni but lots of spaghetti.


                                                       


'Could cost between 500€ and 2000€. I'll send you an e-mail.' 

I could swear we had the place rewired about 10 years ago!.




macaroni.








And so it was with heavy hearts and in heavy rain  that we set off down Calle Benito Suarez 'rumbo a Santander'.

Two days and 1000 kilometres later we joined the queue for the Santander to Portsmouth ferry only to be told at the check-in booth that Tommy's pet passport was invalid. The vet in back Álora had made a mistake on the passport.

'This passport is no good'.

The Pet Passport Scheme has allowed us to go back and forth from England to Spain for the last 13 years without having to put Tommy or Monty into quarantine for 6 months when we entered the UK. More than 100,000 journeys a year are currently made by dogs, cats, rabbits and ferrets under the scheme. 
In order to travel back with our dogs we have to make sure that their vaccinations against rabies are kept up to date, they are microchipped and they have to see an approved Spanish vet for a worming tablet five days before we go back.
Any error or omission in the passport will result in refusal to board a plane or a boat until a vet has sorted it out which, could take days......or 6 months quarantine. It happened to us a few years ago when Juan the vet altered a date and Brittany Ferries had a purge on pet  passports. Trying to bribe a border official is always  a bit risky  so now I always check everything is kosher. I can't believe I missed the error. He'd put the wrong year for the vaccination to become effective. The word for 'wanker' in Spanish is 'gilipollas' in case you're wondering.

We were told to get out of the queue and try to contact our vet 1000 km. away at 8.00pm on a Saturday night. 
Meanwhile cars continued being loaded on to the only ferry for days and dog accommodation on the ferries is as rare as hens' teeth at this time of the year. Ernesto the vet (not his real name) answered his mobile (Grácias a Díos) and agreed to fill in a form with the correct dates on it and e-mail it to the checkpoint. The rest is all a blank to me. 

There is no agreement yet about what will happen after March 29th. 2019 when Britain leaves the European Union. If there's 'no deal'- sí que estaremos jodidos (we'll be up shit creek without a paddle).

Will we ever see Álora again?

I've just been to the Audiology Centre at Queen Elizabeth Hospital because my hearing aids have packed up. It's a nightmare trying to park there so after driving round and round for the best part of half an hour I only just made it before the 'drop in' clinic closed.

Grateful for a change of scenery I plonked myself down on an empty seat in the warm, cosy waiting room expecting to be there for enough time to run up a hefty charge in the tower of extortion known as Car Park A.
Imagine my surprise when I recognised the patient in the next seat as G****n from Álora.
What are the chances of that happening, eh?

For many years G****n's short, stooped figure haunted the streets of our fine town in search of a property to buy. The owner of Alora Properties in La Plaza de la Fuente Arriba (The Top Square) will remember him well. 

During dozens of visits over several years G****n must have viewed every available property in the town at least once. In between viewings he liked nothing better than to report his lack of progress to anyone not quick enough to see him coming. I never met his wife who, apparently, lived and still does live in Australia from where she was able to prolong his house viewing and visits to Spain long enough for some of his refusals to bought, renovated, lived in and put back on the market. It was an arrangement that seemed to please all parties except perhaps the very patient estate agent.
We were all surprised when he finally bought a house in the highest part of town and (less surprisingly) immediately started having problems with his Spanish neighbours.
 G****n has  just returned from Australia to Birmingham '..where I live when I'm here'  and is now trying to sell his house in Álora. The hills are a bit much for him.

After a few minutes chat his name was called. Apparently he's not called G****n at all, but Walter!
What a dark horse!

Diligent readers of this classic journal may remember that this picture of my good friend Antonio holding a poster appeared at the head of my last post. The photo was taken at midday on Monday under the town hall clock. As regular as clockwork, too, a group of Perote pensioners has held a peaceful demonstration in the top square (which is actually a triangle) for over a year at the same time and day. They are protesting against the very low annual increase in their state pension.
During the summer they moved across the square and demonstrated outside Paco's Bar Alegría even though he has little or no influence with the government in Madrid - it's just that it was shady over there.
'¡No vale ganar más dinero y morir de una insolacíón!'
('No point in trying to get better pensions if we die of sunstroke!')
The numbers have dwindled over the last year. The average age of the demonstrators is about 85, so some losses are to be expected.
The sign says:
'Where is the money for our pensions?
'They've got it. The Bankers,the Church and the Bourbons'.


Demonstrations are very popular these days. It's as if they are making up for almost 40 years of Francoism when anybody daring to protest would have been arrested and given a severe biffing at the Cuartel. (Guardia Civil Headquarters) ...or worse, and these chaps are old enough to remember those days well. 
It's easy to understand why they blame the bankers and the Church but ...

a biscuit?

or the Royal Family

(spot the one currently doing 5 years in the nick)


 

The Bourbon family have ruled Spain on and off since 1700. 
In the War of the Spanish Succession they lost Gibraltar to Britain (1713). Watch this space.
Even after being kicked out by Napoleon and a couple of dictators they bounced back, bore a big bunch of baby Bourbons and bagged billions (of pesetas).
A lot of Spaniards don't like the Bourbons, mainly because they are French.
Interesting fact: The Bourbon biscuit (Peak Freans) is named after this family. The holes are to let steam out during cooking. Bourbon buscuits are the fifth most popular biscuits for 'dunking'.

 The Bothers Cids' Barbería

 Just before we left Álora I went for a haircut at  Hermanos Cid (The Cid Brothers). It's run by two brothers Paco and Pepe Cid. That's either Paco or Pepe leaning in the doorway. After having my hair cut there for 18 years I still don't know which is which and it´s too late to ask now. Their 'salon' is right next to where there used to be an old fountain that gave its name to the top square and was the main scource of water for the town.

                   La Fuente de Arriba before The Cids

When it´s not raining this little space is full of mainly elderly men chewing the fat. Some of them sit inside as if they are waiting for a haircut, which can be very confusing. They carry on animated conversations with Paco and Pepe while they go about their barbery business. I watch them through the mirror. The box on the bench is a cage with little birds in it which are for sale (going cheap).

A haircut there is a very thorough job and takes, on average, twenty minutes. It would be quicker if Paco/Pepe didn't keep breaking off to join the conversations. I sometimes wonder if they are concentrating enough on what they are doing, especially when they get out the cutthroat razor to shave my neck.

Here's Antonio Gil who seems to be happy in his new premises on Calle Vera Cruz just up from Hermanos Cid. He's taken over La Jamonería which used to be a carnicería (butcher's) run by Andrés. 
It's a much smaller place than his previous bar on La Rampa, he doesn't open at night and he plays rock music a bit quieter than he did there. Antonio now specialises in Pata Negra jamon (the best hams - there are 14 hanging up there), very good cheese and other tasty cold tapas. There's no door so it's very easy to slip in there when you're on your way 'uptown'.







Pie news- the continuing hunt for a proper Spanish pie

Great news. On recent visit to Granada I spotted this little belter in a shop on Reyes Catolicos  not far from El Corral del Carbón.

It's a circular pie, not a pasty and it's stuffed with jamon serrano, chorizo and something else I couldn't identify. (€2.50 a slice) It's definitely a pie though. Just my luck that we had just put away a big menú del día at La Chantarella.

Olive news.

Olivar Caicunes has just finished bottling this year's raw unfiltered olive oil. It's smooth and strong and has the peppery taste you get with Hojiblanca and Picual olives. 
The harvests were down on last year around Casarabonela but we managed to pick 1767 kilos before the weather took a turn for the worse and bottled 187 litres of oil.

                                      Liquid Gold.


Juanito Sánchez December 5th. 2018.