Carnival in Águilas

The carnival in Águilas was declared as being of 'National Tourist Interest' in 1997, and it takes place before Lent every year between February and March. Somehow myself and my husband have become heavily involved in it!
We were just sitting watching the sunset with a German friend, (Claudia), who occasionally practises her Spanish with us. ( With our combined accents, God knows what the locals think if they're listening!) Anyway after two beers, (like so many things), it seemed like a good idea  at the time.
Carnival here is not as grand as in Rio but it does last for over a week and thousands of people come to watch or take part in the parades which take place on four nights. Even tiny children take part.

The enormous parades go down the main streets which have been lined with tiered seating on either side. The parades start around five-thirty pm and go on until around eleven pm. There is a constant stream of people of all ages, but mostly beautiful girls who are dressed in feathers and very little else. The men reading this blog may like to zoom in on the photo below.

 They often trail a magnificent display behind them or are dancing in choreographed groups. There are some comedy acts and massive floats. The noise vibrates every bone in your body as successive groups compete to drown one another out.

"Would you like to be in the carnival?" Claudia had said. We'd laughed, "Why not?" She'd made a quick phone call. We found that we'd joined a 'Pena' (local carnival group) and were to be in a procession. We wonder the next day how a retired English couple are going to fit in. I'm concerned but my husband says, "IT'LL BE AN EXPERIENCE."

Crowds in the streets.

THE FIRST MEETING/LUNCH
We were told that there was a meeting with lunch so at around 2p.m. we went to a drab looking restaurant. We went through to a back room,and found that sat at tables were around sixty local people chatting loudly in heavy local accents. Everyone was aged 60-75,we discovered that the group is associated with the local 'Third Age Club,' (not to be confused with U3A in England).

 

As the meal progressed sangria, red wine and beer flowed and the waiters continually replaced empty bottles. The meal consisted of, salad, fried squid, pork, fish, two sweet puddings and tea or coffee. This including the drinks had cost us around £10 each. The noise level increased with every course, as excited people shouted conversations at one another down, across and from table to table. Of course the obligatory two TV's were on full belt somewhere in the background of the din. This picture shows the hams hanging up in the restaurant. 

 

There was a raffle in which, (to my embarrassment), I won one of the two huge cardboard boxes. Mine contained, bottled lentils and beans, tinned tomatoes, fizzy drinks, two bottles of cooking oil and a bottle of wine. All essential items if you're on a low income or have unemployed members of the family. (See previous blog for more on this).

When the meal finished Spanish music from the 50's was turned up to full volume and the entertainment began.Women aged 65-75 circulated amongst the tables whilst miming to the music  dancing, flirting, pouting ,flashing their eyes and using their fans to great effect. (Fans are not just items sold to tourists but are frequently used in public if it is hot especially by older women). Everyone clapped, shouted and sang along. It went on a bit...

Then the organiser appeared dressed in drag replete with shocking pink plastic lips and orange wig. It went on a bit...

He kissed my husband. (I recalled that my husband had said, being in the carnival would be an experience). The women sang again... It went on a bit...

We no longer cared. Not the usual sort of meeting.

 THE FIRST FITTING.

We know that we are to wear costumes and have paid a hefty deposit. I can't divulge the theme for our group, as all the themes are top secret apparently. We are told to go to a dress-maker in the back streets of Aguilas about 8p.m. Other members of the group also there made us very welcome and we had our measurements taken. A female member of the group emerged from behind a door clad in a floor length dress sparkling in green and silver lurex strips. The circumference at the bottom was approximately a metre or more, shoulders and a fair amount of busom was on display. The full implications of not only agreeing, but also paying, to dance down the streets late at night, with an audience of thousands is dawning on us.The husband says again, "IT'll BE AN EXPERIENCE." Then the organiser emerges in his costume - a matching green lurex top with a dastardly cape -he resembles a garden gnome. I look at my husband's face, "IT''LL BE AN EXPERIENCE," I tell him. 

 THE FIRST DANCE PRACTICE

We pick up Claudia and her friend Barbara (who is also German but speaks neither Spanish or English), and drive to an address in the back streets of Aguilas again for our first dance practice. It's due to start at 8.30 p.m. At 8.50 someone comes and opens a massive garage door and we enter our 'dance studio.' Eventually around twenty Spanish, two French, and an Austrian arrive. A lot of confusing introductions are made.

 

A woman from the meal who'd mimed and flirted to great effect arrived. Her previously red hair was now purple interspersed with red. Aged about 65 she still made an arresting figure.

The teacher got us into threes and attempted to start to teach us the routine - she had her work cut out. Few paid any attention. Laughter, talking, and directions from varying members of the group filled the room. All this was conducted in heavily accented Spanish. An hour and a half  later we'd attempted to do a thirty second routine. We went home at 10.30 exhausted.

THE SECOND DANCE PRACTICE - More of the same. Everyone but us arrived about twenty minutes late. Only the foreigners listen to the instructions - the group did not progress. Claudia has brought a skirt to practise with, my husband improvises a cloak using a scarf.

 

 

THE THIRD AND FOURTH DANCE PRACTICES - some people are now in time with the music. Many are still getting the moves wrong. All are still talking during the practice and frequently arguing with the teacher, (except for the foreigners). It seems that the teacher has wisely decided to only do a forty second routine. We are now in in December. The carnival is at the beginning of February. We are told that the next practice will be outside on the local industrial estate. I tell my husband he was right - IT IS AN EXPERIENCE.

 

I hope you have enjoyed this blog and not found it boring - let me know please. The next one will be at the beginning  of February - too close for comfort to the carnival!

Espero que disfruites el blog. !Escribeme! El proximo sera los principios de febrero - !muy cerca del carnaval! 

Comments to/Comentar : writerinaguilas@gmail.com

  

 

 



Floods, earthquake, and pestilence (economic situation)!

This post is an update about the earthquake in Lorca, the recent floods in Murcia and the economic situation in this part of Spain.
We recently went to Lorca to renew our car's MOT or I should say ITV the Spanish equivalent of checking a car for road worthiness. The nearest place this can be done is Lorca, a fifteen mile drive from here. It involves having a lot of paperwork, the usual emission checks etc and a scary check when our poor ageing Corsa is lifted up and shaken violently. Fortunately we passed.

 

We went into Lorca which is a beautiful town to see what improvements have happened since the earthquake in May 2011. (I have written about the earthquake in a previous post which can be found further down the page).  A lot of work seems to be going on and there has been some rebuilding, however as EVERY building in Lorca was affected sadly much remains to be done, as the following photos illustrate.

 

If you look carefully at the photo below you can see that a business is being conducted on the ground floor of a building which is totally derelict on the upper floors.

 

 

 

However in spite of the earthquake and the recent floods Lorca seems to have recovered some of its optimism. The shops were much busier than during our previous visit, the castle is open to visitors, and it remains a delightful place to spend time in with lovely squares and many restaurants where you can sit outside and watch the world go by.

The floods at the end of September affected many outlying areas. We recently went on a walk with an evolutionist walking group based in San Juan de Los Terreros. We started at Los Lobos a small village up in the mountains nearby. A rambla which is normally a completely dry river bed had flooded. This photo shows the remains of a bridge (which was over a hundred years old), which had been completely washed away.

 Further up the rambla a shepherds pens and out buildings had suffered a similar fate.

 

 

 

With the current economic situation no-one knows when or if the bridge will be repaired. Along with the bridge went a newly built cycle path that connected Villaricos with Los Lobos. This was built at a cost of thousands of pounds and has been completely washed away.

These things are fairly typical of this part of Spain's problems. Many expensive projects happened during the 'booming' construction years with no thought of maintenance etc. Housing developments are often sited in the supposedly dry river beds with disastrous consequences. An airport has been built in Murcia a few miles from a perfectly good one (San Javier). The new airport doesn't function due to a combination of lack of money and incompetence. Meantime Spain's unemployment rate is over twenty five percent which rises to forty percent in those under twenty five. There is real hardship here. Social security payments are very restricted and dependent on how long you've previously been in employment.There are daily reports on the news of evictions some of our friends are supporting children in their mid twenties and one friend knows personally two people who've hung themselves recently, and their daughter saw some-one throw themselves out of a high building.

 

Many public servants have not been paid for months. These include some police forces, cleaners and bin men etc. Many pharmacies have not had their drugs bills paid and are having to remortgage their homes to pay the bills which the government should be paying. People are said to be foraging in bins for food. So whilst things are bad in Britain they are undoubtedly worse here.

 

 

Having said all of the above this is still for us and many other ex-patriots a mini paradise. We can't believe it's almost December, the sun shines most days and it's round 18-20 degrees. Better still there are still no signs of the dreaded C word (Christmas) in the shops. My next post will be at the beginning of January so it leaves me just to wish you all a very Happy Christmas and a healthy and successful New Year.  Many thanks for reading. Any comments are very welcome and can be left at ;

writerinaguilas@gmail.com

 

Best wishes from Cathy











October in Aguilas - Night walking and octopus.

Firstly my apologies this is a post about everyday life here instead of the environment, as I managed to wipe that entire blog from the site yesterday, and I'm still too annoyed to compose it again just yet!
Our neighbours from Lorca arrived on the seventh of October to tell us that they were undertaking a night time walk. These are not unusual here and make perfect sense as it's often still around thirty degrees in the day at the beginning of October.
We went  to the local beach at nine thirty p.m. to see what was happening it was twenty-two degrees, and the beach was crowded with excited people.

 



 

 

About a hundred tents had been pitched, and around two hundred people and about a dozen dogs wandered around. People were carrying rucksacks, wearing walking boots and had lights on bands around their heads or torches slung around their necks. They were all in teams, most of whom would have been totally composed of family members. Of our neighbours the women were 'The Beach Nomads' and the men 'The Limping Eagles'. Of course I may have missed something in the translation!

 

 

 

 

 

The women were going to walk five or six kilometres and the men twenty. This doesn't sound that much but there are few good footpaths here. They were given maps and co-ordinates and the longer route involved  fairly steep ascents through rough thorny scrub. It was well organised and teams were called out through a microphone by someone in the tent shown  above. They set off to applause, cheers and laughter. This particular event is organised every year by the 'council' and this was the first time it had started and finished at Calabardina.

We went home to bed and left them to it. The women arrived back at around one-thirty a.m. the men around four-thirty a.m., when they all had a fiesta. Of course in this part of Spain that's not particularly late. In the summer months especially July or August, (when many people are on holiday), people don't go to bed before five or six a.m.

The next morning at eleven -thirty there were prizes, sausage or pork 'baps', beer and several long and flowery speeches.

 

 

By three p.m. everything had been cleared away and tidied up and one would never have suspected that anything had happened there the night before.

Many people enjoy walking in this area but it makes us realise how lucky we are in Britain to have The Ramblers and many other organisations like them to organise walks, keep footpaths open and lobby governments. There are Spanish groups here who do  hikes in the mountains but there is no nationwide organisation, and no groups who do easy or moderate walks. In part this is because of our different history, and perhaps because everything here centres around the family, so if you want to walk you can organise it with your extended family. There are however several British groups who've set up in the Murcia area.

The following Friday seemed to illustrate to me what a place of contrasts this can be. In the morning I'd driven about twenty minutes away to a dance/exercise class (Zumba). Twenty five women, all English, exercising to Latin-American music exactly the same as the classes held in Britain.

When I returned hung on my neighbours washing line was lunch for four or five days time.

 



 

 

Her husband ((who's aged about seventy),had been in the sea catching octopus with a spear. She told me that these would be left to dry for four or five days, then she would cut them up into small pieces and grill them.



There are various ways to 'tenderise' octopus. Some swear by beating them, others by putting them in the freezer.They usually then cut up the long tendrils, fry them and serve them in an oil and vinegar sauce. They are delicious. So far I've bought them ready prepared from the local supermarket!

On this particular day it was thirty degrees in the shade. For lunch they were having 'Migas'. This is deep fried breadcrumbs with sausage. Our other neighbours describe it as 'comfort food' for the winter! I hope it's not too cold or too hot, or that you're not suffering from extremes of weather wherever you're reading this, and I also hope you can join me again in three weeks time, thanks for reading,

Cathy.

Espero que puedes encontrarme en tres semanas, gracias para leer,

Caty.

Contact me at www. writerinaguilas@gmail.com

The Alhambra palace, Granada

The Alhambra Palace in Granada is one of the most beautiful legacies left by eight centuries of the Arab presence in Spain. My husband and I went to Granada for a week-end and my initial impressions of this lovely city can be found in my 'post' further down this page, beneath a short piece about the floods in Murcia. 

  
 It is essential to buy a ticket well in advance to enter the exquisite Nazari Palaces which lie within the Alhambra . These are easily obtained on the Internet but you MUST be at the entrance which is inside the complex at the stated time. Our ticket was timed for a Sunday at 2pm.We breakfasted in a square with colourful flower stalls, the sun sparkling on the water of the fountains. When a dustcart arrived we were intrigued to find that the rubbish thrown into a normal looking bin appeared to enter a deep subterranean pit underneath it. The bar we had breakfast in had a loo that was also subterranean -  accessed by a narrow staircase with room only for midgets.
We wandered around the city and found the old silk market. It was as though we'd been transported to a souk in North Africa. Cloth in all the colours of the rainbow hung over narrow streets.The smell of exotic herbs and spices drifted on the air with the tinkling of tiny bells suspended from walls, ceilings and items of clothing. Ceramics, leather, copper, lamps and lanterns were all for sale by gnarled old men, and younger ones with sparkling eyes and heart breaking smiles to match. (My husband says there were attractive women as well!)
After lunch we walked to the Alhambra climbing steep steps to the entrance shaded by trees. Water bubbled down channels on either side of the steps and the snow clad Sierra Nevadas could just be glimpsed under an azure sky.
Once inside the grounds we found the imposing palace of Charles V. This was built in 1527 and has a solid feel to it with two ornate facades. Further on in the grounds we found the ancient Baths. What tales could this place tell, where the women of the harem would bathe under the light of the starred roof watched by the sultan before he made his choice for the night?
At 2pm we joined the queue to enter the palace of the Nazaries. At first its beauty is not obvious but the further in you enter the more you fall under its spell.

Praises to Allah resound throughout in exquisite writing engraved into columns, archways, stairs and ceilings. Ornamental ceramic and stucco work designs remain in their vivid shades of blue, red , orange, yellow and green, they are based on geometric shapes. These are symmetrically repeated to infinity as a metaphor for eternity. One often sees these designs today incorporated into people's terraces and outside stairs. An incredible testimony to their appeal five centuries later.

Eventually we reached the Court of the Myrtles. It is crowded in the Alhambra but most people go past in groups. If you hold back and wait for a moment until no-one is there you will have a perfect brief moment when you can glimpse the paradise that was part of the sultan's official residence in the 14th century. The Comares tower stands at one end of a rectangular pool, a fountain at the other.

If you go and stand behind the fountain you will see reflected in the surface of the pool, the azure sky, white clouds, the red tower and the cream pillars and archways. A fish ripples the water and something magical happens. The image trembles, swirls, fragments and reforms again and again. Hypnotic... Memories of centuries past lying just out of reach. Just beneath the surface.
Eventually I managed to drag myself away and we found the next wonder - El Patio de los Liones - the Lion courtyard. In its centre a fountain is ringed by twelve lions which have been recently restored. It is flanked by a gallery of 124 marble columns. This was the Sultan's private residence and the women's bedrooms. The sense of the past reaching out, is again, almost tangible.

The 600 year old lions seem to watch us disdainfully. How many more civilisations may come and go under their scornful gaze?
Everywhere arched windows frame the mountains. The noises from the ancient city drift up to us.
Walking out into the gardens we are embraced by the colours and perfumes of the flowers and trees. Everywhere can be heard the bubbling and splashing of water in fountains, pools and rivulets.

I hope that I've done justice to and given you some sense of the beauty of the Alhambra. Lots more photos and descriptions can be found on the Internet.
On our last day we lunched near the walls of the Alhambra, sitting under a shaded canopy dripping with lilac coloured wisteria, the sound of water running nearby. We walked along, 'the street of the sad', as a gypsy guitar played a lament in the distance. Looking down over a bridge we saw a young couple, dressed in hippy clothes standing in the stream making patterns with sticks in the water. This mystic city can be summarised by a verse by Francisco A. de Icaza displayed at the tower of La Polvorosa at the Alhambra -
Give him alms, woman,
as there is no greater
tribulation in life,
than being blind in Granada.

Thank you so much for reading. My number of 'views' of this blog have now reached more than a thousand from all over the world. If you have any comments I would love to have them at: www.writerinaguilas.gmail.com
My next blog will be published the week-end of the 10th of November. This blog (if all goes to plan), will be about the true cost of the salad on your plate!Please join me, Cathy.
Espero que te guste este blog. El proximo sera el fin de semana 10 de noviembre y es sobre el precio secreto de tu ensaladas!
Si tienes algunos comentarios mandarlos:
www.writerinaguilas@gmail.com

Floods in Lorca

This is an extra post as I didn't feel I should continue wihout mentioning the dreadful floods that affected the region this week-end (29/30 September).
Those of you who have read my previous blog about the earthquake just over a year ago in Lorca, will no doubt be as horrified as my husband and I were by the news of the terrible flash floods in Murcia ad Andalucia which have affected the city of Lorca amongst many other places in the region.

Our friends who live there are safe and posted these photos on Facebook. This is a street in the centre of the city wich we know well.

This is normally a completly empty dried up river bed - a rambla. In the ten years tha we have been visiting Lorca we have never known there to be so much as a trickle of water in this river bed.
Sixty five litres of rain per metre squared fell on Friday, previously there has been a draught in this region. Many people have had to be rescued from roof tops and especially vehicles which were swept away by rivers overflowing and bridges collapsing. Several people have died.
If you want to view a video of these dramatic events there is an excellent one that can be seen on Sky News if you google;- Lorca floods.
This is a poor area, and many people already affected by the previous earthquake and the continuing economic crisis will be badly affected. I'm sure that the hearts of those of us in other countries go out to those of you reading this in Spain.Our thoughts are with you all at this dreadful time.
Cathy

Granada and the Alhambra

I had wanted to see Granada and the Alhambra for years, last April I finally persuaded my husband to leave his bike for a long week-end. Granada is about a two hour drive from Aguilas along quiet, jam free autovias, a far cry from out packed motorways.The closer we got to Granada the more mountainous it became until at last we saw the snow capped Sierra Nevada rising up behind the city.
     We found the hotel on the outskirts easily but had to drive around it twice before locating the entrance to the subterranean car park. The traffic in and around Granada is pretty scary and I wouldn't reccommend booking a hotel in the old centre, (even though it's undoubtedly picturesque), unless you have nerves of steel and a good sense of direction - or (possibly) Satnav.
     When we reached our hotel room I found that in the short time that it had taken us to walk from the car park and check in my camera had vanished. I will never know if it fell out or was taken from my bag.Not a good start for me, but I suspect the husband had a job to suppress his joy - I do spend an inordinate amount of time taking photos. (All the ones in this post have been supplied by the net or kind friends).

 

     We walked into the old part of Granada. Granada is a city best experienced on foot. The light was clear and bright, the sky azure, the sun blazing and we could just glimpse the snow sparkling on the mountains behind the impressive bulk of the Alhambra.

     After a lunch of tapas in a tiny square we found the church of San Juan de Dios. Inside in common with so many in Spain the amount of gold covering the altar, backdrop, ceilings etc is stunning and almost mesmerising in its effect.(This gold was brought from South America in the 16th century and its extraction from the mines caused immense suffering to the indigenous inhabitants of these countries.) Biblical images are present in intricate carvings, soaring ceilings and massive paintings. 

     A few paces along the street we went into the monastery of Los Jeronimos built at the beginning of the sixteenth century. It was even more laden with gold and every bit as impressive as the previous church. I wanted to buy some postcards on the way out as a souvenir but the only ones they had were going mouldy. The churches in Spain are partly funded by taxation so maybe that's why they don't have the gift shops etc so common in English cathedrals and abbeys.

     It was a glorious afternoon when we emerged into dazzling sunshine and we found ourselves alone in the shade of the cloisters. Wisteria wound up the pillars, flowers abounded and we breathed in the heady perfume of the heavily laden orange trees which edged the cloisters. As we sat in this heavenly spot the sound of nuns chanting within drifted out to us on the still air. Is chanting derived from enchanting? It was one of many magical moments that we experienced in Granada.

  

   We continued on to the Royal hospital founded by the Catholic monarchs in 1503 and currently incorporating, (as the guide book mentions), the seat of the Rectorate of the University of Granada and the Central University library. It is a beautiful building with a large sunlit and very pretty inner courtyard.What the guide book doesn't mention is, that the exquisite sixteenth century frescoes are peeling, the plaster is coming off the walls and there is an air of neglect. More surprisingly the authorities have chosen to house a genito-urinary and drug addiction clinic in this unique and historical site. I guess it might make the appointments more bearable!



     All Spanish cities feature fountains and running water but in Granada it's an art form. There can be no part where you can't see, hear or touch it. The river bubbles round the city flowing beneath the red granite walls of the Alhambra. Every square, and there are many, has its own fountain sparkling in the sunlight. There are lots of little water drinking fountains in the streets and the water is icy cold and refreshing - we drank it all day.

At sunset we walked through the beautiful ancient area of  the Albaicin, its narrow streets packed with shops selling goods from nearby North Africa. We walked up the narrow street up the hill to view the sunset . We did this with dozens of tourists. Buses and taxis carried others to the same view point, horns honking,they whizzed past at an alarming rate. There was plenty of space at the viewpoint. Excited people were everywhere taking photos and there were a couple of buskers adding music to the atmosphere as everyone waited for the sun to set and its rays to illuminate the citadel walls of the Alhambra with its backdrop of the Sierra Nevada. It was a beautiful sight and a fitting end to a great day.
My next blog in three weeks time (the week-end 20th October), will feature the Alhambra which is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful places in the world. If you're enjoying this blog please recommend it to your friends - I have almost reached 1000 'views' by people from places as diverse as Croatia, Bangladesh and recently a large number from Sweden! Thank you all for taking the time to look at it,
Mi proximo blog en tres semanas, (el fin de semana 20 octubre), sera sobre el Alhambra que es sin duda uno de los lugares mas bonito en el mundo.Si te gusta este blog recomendar a tus amigos por favor - !casi 1000 gente lo ha leido! Gracias por leerlo
Best Wishes 'til the next time/ hasta el proximo,
Cathy

Strange tales and intriguing rumours.

This post links the coast of Murcia with post-Second World War Austria, Algeria, and Hitler's chauffeur!
     We recently joined a walking group which consists of mostly English, but also other nationalities including local Spanish people. We walked along the coast passing quiet beaches on a beautiful sunny day, and stopped at a tranquil cove. It was overlooked by half a dozen houses or so, with long gardens well set back so they could only be just glimpsed.

      One of the members of the group was dressed a little more flamboyantly than us boring Brits. Aged about seventy he appeared to be in traditional Austrian walking gear; leather lederhosen which had a large nifty flap at the front done up with buttons, a checked shirt, walking boots and a large strong rucksack. His hair was on the long side and my guess is that he was very attractive in his younger days.
     He was invited by the leader of the group to tell us about the history of this cove - Cala Panizo.  He told us that after World War Two it was settled by two ex-members of the Austrian cabinet. He emphasised that they were not Nazis. They in turn invited the head of British Petroleum from the USA and someone equally important from Shell Oil to join them in living there. A world famous opera singer (sorry we can't remember her name) was also invited.
     This was a time when Spain was in ruins from the Spanish civil war which had decimated the country. Murcia is still very rural in parts and at that time it would have been extremely isolated. There was no other development nearby. He said that if any of the few locals who lived nearby were ill, one of these foreigners would use their vehicle to transport them to the nearest hospital in Lorca some thirty miles away, as none of the locals possessed transport.
     Apparently at around seven pm one of the 'group' would ring a little bell along the sea front to indicate that pre-dinner cocktails were about to be served. He also stated that Franco gave his personal permission for the first house to be built. When electric light was installed and up and running they let him know and he sent them his congratulations. It would seem that for a repressive right wing dictator, he was all heart where this group was concerned!
     All the people involved would now be dead or in their late eighties and nineties. I have no idea of the truth of the story but it's certainly an intriguing one.
    At the back of the beach one walks down a quiet lane. A few new houses have been built. nearly all have high walls, long gardens and guard dogs.
     We continued on to have a lovely walk with beautiful views from a nearby hill. These attractive cacti were growing nearby

    We related this interesting story to two sets of Spanish friends. One set had not heard of this as they lived further away in Mazarron, however they were not at all surprised and told us that after the war many high ranking Germans were said to have fled here. They also told us that after Algeria gained independence many of Algeria's ex-generals found refuge in quiet and beautiful spots just along the coast from themselves in Mazarron.
      The other Spanish friend casually remarked, "Oh yes it's very likely true. Did you know that the house just a couple of miles along from where you live was owned by Hitler's chauffeur?" No we didn't! Again we have no idea how true this is, but the house is situated in a quiet and beautiful spot in what was once a hidden backwater of Europe.

 
  Spain is a fascinating and many faceted country. The civil war was a bloody and protracted affair which caused immense suffering. It is certainly the case that for some people just under the surface feelings still run deep and it's not a topic that you mention in public. At a party with Spanish people we once foolishly mentioned that we were watching a TV series called La Republica, which is set immediately before the civil war. We sat open mouthed as two of the assembled company had a long and passionate shouted argument for some twenty minutes about the series and the time, before carrying on laughing and drinking with each other.
     I hope you've enjoyed this somewhat different post. If you have any knowledge of these intriguing rumours I would love to hear from you at :
writerinaguilas@gmail.com    
My next post will be posted by the week-end of the 29th of September and every three weeks thereafter. It will be about a visit to the fascinating and beautiful city of Grenada.
Bye for now Cathy.

Espero que te guste este blog. El proximo sera el fin de semana 29 de setiembre y despues cada tres semanas. Sera sobre una visita a la ciudad fascinante y hermosa que es Grenada.
Hasta la proxima y gracias para leyendo, Si tienes algunas comentarios me gusta leerlos a
writerinaguilas@gmail.com
Caty
 

On to Benidorm with the Aguilas Housewives.

In my last post (which if you missed it, can be read a little further down this page), I was on a day trip with the association of the Aguilas housewives. Having been to Calpe and Altea we continued on our way to Benidorm.

Altea

We stopped at what appeared to be a small bar for lunch, but it had a distinct resemblance to the tardis from Dr Who. There were around a dozen seats outside, thirty in the bar, an inner room of two hundred, and then ours which sat about another seventy. Because Spanish families are so large family get-togethers often take place in these bar/restaurants and many bars which appear small at first glance have a huge room further inside. We had a large and sadly mediocre meal - salad, a so called Paella, (which was basically rice with some chicken or rabbit shot into it) and then some pre-cooked 'pressed pork' with about six greasy chips. However the committee were really kind to me and came to ask me several times if I was OK.

We got back into the coach and went on to Benidorm. The view from the coach window,(shown here), filled me with gloom.It appeared to be even worse than I'd imagined.

 I am however reliably informed, (by the members of a walking group), that, like so many resorts here, once you get into the countryside it's extremely beautiful.


When we reached the town at the back of the beach it consisted of tatty souvenir shops, bars and restaurants. I was greeted in English everywhere that I went. Egg and chips, and cups of tea abounded. Benidorm was one of the first places that opened up to the tourist trade in the sixties and unfortunately it shows. Just as they did in Altea all the ladies walked around in groups of twenty or so. There is a definite feeling that there is safety in numbers when one is out with the Spanish. A shopkeeper in a leather shop looked slightly alarmed when we all invaded en masse but he needn't have worried.

The beach itself is massive and sandy but the overcast weather certainly didn't show it off at its best. The Spanish women that I went with didn't seem to like it much either. I think they were just on the trip for a day out, and the chance to met up with friends away from the constraints of their family.

As the evening drew on it took on the appearance of the English seaside in winter. The bright lights illuminating an almost deserted beach. I imagine that now,in the middle of August, you would have to fight to get a space for your beach towel.

Everyone on the coach on the way back was subdued quite a contrast from the outward journey. It was about ten pm and it had been a long day. However when we reached the close by town of Lorca it was as though a switch had been flicked on unbeknown to me. All the ladies started to shout, laugh and screech. Many rang family and friends to excitedly inform them at top volume that they were almost home.

Aerial view of Lorca castle.

                                                      

We travelled onwards to Aguilas some fifteen miles away everyone continuing their animated conversations. At last the castle perched above Aguilas hove into view and everyone started to sing a traditional and very lovely song about Aguilas.

I felt very privileged to have been accepted into this group of lovely women. All in all it was a long interesting and tiring day. My Spanish may have even improved a little!
As always thank you for reading. My next blog will be the week-end of the 8th of September. It will detail a fascinating encounter, which led to us hearing rumours about strange goings on in post WW11 Murcia, and a link with Hitler's chauffeur!
All comments via the page, email or face book are very welcome. Speak to you next month, Cathy

Gracias para leer mis paginas. Mi blog proximo sera el fin de semana 7 de setiembre y es sobre rumores de Murcia despues de la Guerra del Mundo Segundo y ! un enlace con el chofer de Hitler!

On a wing and a prayer- out with the Aguilas housewives.

Last year we were struggling with the local accent - we still are! To be fair our Spanish pharmacist friend from Almeria, also struggles with it. Recently she had a problem understanding a local shepherd when he asked her if she had anything for his goat's diarrhoea.
Local people tend not to pronounce the letters 's' and 'd'. This does not make the words sound as they did when we learnt them at the local college in England, e.g. 'Buenos Dias' is pronounced 'Buenodia', 'Pescado' (fish) is pronounced 'Pecao', and Estamos (we are) is 'etamo', and so on. Aguilas itself also has words peculiar to only Aguilas. With this in mind when I saw an advert about the local WI, I decided to join in the hope of improving my listening skills.

View of the castle in Aguilas from one of the two beaches.

When I went into Aguilas to join, I took my husband with me for support. On finding the front door of their building, I hesitated. My husband rang the bell, the door opened electronically and he firmly pushed me up a flight of stairs. I entered a tiny office and was faced with about five middle-aged ladies squashed behind a small desk. They all looked up at me in surprise. I asked if I could join - they looked astounded - "It would be 12 Euros." "OK" We then had a difficult conversation about how we came to be in Aguilas, which my husband helped me with as my nerves had rendered me almost dumb, (a most unusual occurrence according to him). A card was issued. I was now an official member of :-
The Association of Housewives, Worshippers and Users of the Virgin of Dolores, of Aguilas. It didn't seem to matter that I was not a worshipper, a user or indeed, even a Catholic. They told me that some of them met every Tuesday to embroider or sew - my heart sank - sewing! (When at school my mother completed every item that I ever started). However  I went along several times clutching a tiny embroidery which I've been doing for about ten years now. The embroidery progressed quite well but sadly the ladies remained almost incomprehensible to me. I still couldn't crack the accent.



A few months later they had a trip to Benidorm. (It was advertised on hoardings and lampposts around the town, the normal method to convey information). I'd never been to Benidorm and thought that listening to a whole day of Spanish would be good for me. Stomach churning I met about fifty mostly elderly ladies waiting at the port at eight a.m. on a chilly February day.

We all got on the coach and I was surrounded by excited Spanish women all chattering, gesticulating and shouting at once. We set off and the president (an always immaculately dressed woman aged about seventy) started the announcements over the microphone immediately saying how pleased she was to be out with, The Housewives of Aguilas, Worshippers and Users of the Virgin of Dolores, of Aguilas. (A previous Spanish teacher used to say of Spanish, "Why use one word when you can use twenty").
Everyone continued laughing and talking throughout the announcements. It suddenly quietened. There was just a low murmuring, the ladies were crossing themselves and I realised that prayers were being offered up for a good day and an improvement in the weather. This was followed by a stream of what appeared to be filthy jokes with all the women laughing uproariously and various ones taking over the mike. Then they all started to sing. So far it wasn't how I imagined a day out would be with the English WI. ( I could be wrong - let me know if you're a member).
I sat next to a woman who like most had come with several female members of her family. They all worked with their husbands who ran the local children's fun-fair. One sold sausages and fried foods, one candy floss and I never did manage to translate what the other one did.

We travelled up the coast and stopped at a bar for a mid-morning break around ten a.m. Two of my new friends had large glasses of red wine to calentarse - warm themselves.They had saved me a seat and bought me (what else?) a cup of tea.  They were kind to me and I was delighted to be able to converse with them.
They had an interesting life. The fair opens in Aguilas for week-ends and holidays in the winter and they travel all over Spain with it in the summer. However with the deepening economic climate the takings were well down.
We finally reached Calpe which has a pretty port. A restaurant displayed massive trays of sea food for people to choose from for lunch later on. (Unfortunately we didn't lunch here).We all wandered vaguely around the port, en masse of course. Everyone was complaining about the weather which was chilly and grey. On the rare occasions when it rains in Aguilas the streets are deserted, because people simply don't venture out in the rain unless it's essential - yes, I know - they wouldn't have gone out much in England this spring would they?


Then we all got back onto the coach to Altea, which was a photographer's paradise,but as is always the way with coach trips far too short a stay, just forty-five minutes.

I leave you here to view some of the delights of Altea and to brace yourselves for the horrors of Benidorm. My next blog will be in a month's time as many of my readers are away on holiday.(Especially the Spanish who tend to take the whole of July and or August off). I hope you all have a lovely time.



Many thanks for reading.
All comments are very welcome either at the link or directly to me at
writerinaguilas@gmail.com

Gracias para leyendo, espero que te guste. Si tienes algunos comentarios escribirme a
writerinaguilas@gmail.com