Aguilas Carnival 2013 -The processions.

Sunday the 12th of February dawns. The first procession starts tonight. (If you haven't read this blog before you may like to look further down the page at the preparations, or lack of them, that the group I am in have made thus far).
I haven't slept well. Our group didn't have a dress rehearsal as the men's costumes weren't ready until two days ago. I am to collect the sleeves for my dress today. The carnival drink - Cuerva however has been prepared.Each group/bar/hotel/restaurant has their own secret recipe. It's basically a punch consisting of wine, fruit juice and various liquors. Our Pena (group), has a large black dustbin full to the brim with it, ensconced in the large subterranean garage where we have been practising our routine.
My husband and I set off yet again for the back room of the dressmakers where the make-up is to be applied. The dressmaker and her daughter do us in batches of four. I look at my husband, his face is now half white.

 Looking at me, the others all exclaim, "!Que guapa!" - "How beautiful!" The husband smiles wanly. In the mirror I see that I resemble an ageing tart. Doubtless it will be better under the arc lights.



 

I pass the afternoon in a state of nervous apprehension. I try to forget that this morning we saw the two main streets lined by literally thousands seats. I've never even set foot on a stage in front of a small audience.

At five p.m. we go into Aguilas. We park some distance away as many of the streets are closed. The traffic on the outskirts is frenetic. Once in Aguilas the bars are packed, odd groups of people wander about in coats, with feathers and costumes poking out from underneath, crowds of excited people are laughing, shouting and looking for their seats. police cars and ambulances are stationed at strategic places. Itinerant vendors are selling popcorn, sweets, balloons etc.

 

 

  

 

We enter the subterranean garage where we are to change. I'm feeling sick with nerves. We can hear the carnival starting up in the street just outside. The music from Swan Lake blasts through the walls down to us in our dimly lit garage. I'm sure that underneath the make-up my face is as white as my husband's face has been painted. We get changed into our costumes. I turn to the husband.

 "Is my hair OK?"

"Yes, it's lovely."

"Is my hat OK?"

 "Yes, it looks great."

"Is my dress on OK?"

 "Yes, it looks fantastic."

The husband is getting a lot of credit points, but I still feel as if I'm facing the worst examination of my life. At six p.m.at some hidden signal, everyone starts to go up the slope and out of the garage.

The noise in the streets physically vibrates through us as it blasts out from the different groups enormous speakers. With the others I fight my way in a boat sized skirt through the crowds at the back of the tiered seats. We wait in a back street where all the groups are starting off.

We watch incredibly glamorous women performing perfectly choreographed numbers.

 

 

 

 

We wait... We smile at tiny children as young as 18 months in full costume on floats.

 

 

 

We wait...We laugh at young men doing satirical numbers or amusingly choreographed routines.

 

 

Quite what was happening here I have no idea!

 

 

We wait... Night is falling and it is getting chilly. We wait over two hours. I'm no longer nervous, I just want to get on with it. Finally after waiting in Aguilas for three hours, having had our make up applied at eleven a.m., and after three months of meetings, fund raising lunches, rehearsals and fittings it's OUR TURN. I can at last reveal that we are dressed in costume for, The Phantom of the Opera and dancing to the opening music.

 

 

 Here we are in full fling!

 

It's not like a TV reality show. It doesn't all miraculously come right, but that doesn't seem to matter. Thousands of people smile and applaud, clap in time to the music and shout "Bravo!" As night falls our costumes shimmer and shine in the arc lights, in beautiful whirling blurs as we twirl and curtsy and dance.We are not the youngest or sexiest group taking part in the carnival, but every woman looks glamorous and elegant. At last after four kilometres of dancing we reach the port and the end of our first procession. The husband had been, (as always), right - it was "AN EXPERIENCE."

 

I've placed a few photos below of some of the other people taking part in the carnival

 

 

Some entrants attracted more attention than others.

 

 

 

 The floats of dinosaurs were particularly spectacular.

 

We did the whole thing on another three nights. I strained my knee and my husband is in bed with flu. Was it worth it? - Yes. Would we do it again?? You must be joking!!

We didn't get to see much of the processions so the photos have been kindly supplied by John Wismer, from Michigan, USA, who I've been lucky enough to meet along with his wife Colette through the course of this blog. It's possible to see a video of the entire carnival on U Tube if you'd like to see more.

If you want to come and experience for yourself the colours, noise, and excitement, then carnival happens every year, six weeks before Easter. Details can be obtained from the Aguilas Tourist board, Murcia, Spain.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this account of our experiences. The next blog should be posted at the beginning of April. If you have any comments please send them to myself at: writerinaguilas@gmail.com

Gracias por leer este blog. El proximo estara a los principios de abril.

Saludos/Best Wishes, Cathy

 









Count down to the carnival

In my previous post (which can be viewed further down this page), I related how my husband and I have become involved in taking part in the local carnival. With  us are two Germans, one Austrian, two French people and around twenty one local Spanish people.
The fifth dance rehearsal found ourselves and our German friends on the seventh of  December, just before nine p.m., shivering in the streets of a local industrial estate. About half of the others involved arrived in dribs and dabs over the next half an hour. We started the session spread across both sides of the road in a long line.

Occasional lorries trundled past and we re-grouped two or three times. A local police car drew up. We foreigners all looked at one another with raised eyebrows. Someone had a friendly laughing chat with the officers, they drove off, and we continued. The teacher, (Isabel, who has visibly aged over the last month), had changed the routine a little. Cue much arguing and shouting by the members.

She suddenly lost patience and in a torrent of Spanish told us that she has taught children, adolescents and adults. That we must all come every week, that we must listen to what she says, that we must arrive on time .The practice ended abruptly - we think she's got her work cut out.

The 2nd lunch/meeting.

We met in the same restaurant as previously. It happened to be my husband's birthday. The food was a little slow in coming but we were kept entertained by flowing alcohol and the Spanish doing what they do best - enjoying themselves. They sang. Keeping time by clapping, foot tapping or ringing spoons on glasses. Around eighty people singing, shouting, conducting and laughing. One or two were using mobile phones at the same time which is even more of an obsession here than it is in the UK!

 

 If you're English it's hard to imagine the volume of noise. They all sang, ' Happy Birthday' to my husband in Spanish. The food arrived - it was great, the wine was good, there was another 'drag act' at the end.

 

Well, nothing's perfect is it? It was a birthday that neither of us will forget.

 

The second dress fitting.

I've been tightly pinned into bright green and silver lurex. It feels as I would imagine an 18th. century corset would. I hope I don't put on any weight! The dress-maker is insistent that my hair will be off my forehead, where my skin has never seen the light of day and is very wrinkled. She assures me that the make-up will make me look wonderful. I can hear the cement being mixed as I write. The husband has had his green lurex waistcoat fitted - the phrase 'Garden Gnome' springs to mind.

 

Dance Rehearsal 7.

This finds us at 9p.m. in the car park of the local Aldi's supermarket. People are still shopping. No problem as the others don't arrive until around 9.30and the remaining shoppers drive around us. It's still pretty much a shambles. Occasionally people are in time. An older lady has a row with the teacher and stomps off into the night taking her daughter with her. There's only about a month's worth of rehearsals left. We increasingly feel as though we are in some TV reality show, where obviously incompetent people are set an obviously impossible task! Never mind my husband's still saying that "It's an experience." The teacher's added a final move - a bow to the crowd after which we will wait for the applause. We think that optimism is a strong Spanish trait.

 

The End game.

It's nearing the end of January and the first parade is on the eleventh of February. There is a hold up with something vital  arriving at the dressmakers.( I'm not sure quite what, my Spanish isn't up to the local accent at times). We still don't have our costumes and we think that some of the dance moves will be very difficult to execute when we finally have them.

The last rehearsal it was windy and cold so we forsook Aldi's car park for an enormous subterranean garage. Different to the previous one we followed the others by car at speed. Around twenty retired people careering around the back streets, with the husband muttering behind the wheel. When we arrived someone had to go and get the key to the garage and a C/D player. We shivered in the streets watching various members trying to park and wondering whether cars or pedestrians were going to be hit first. We finally started around 9.40 p.m.. The garage light is on a timer and this went off every six minutes.We  are told that when it's the carnival this is where we will get changed, have our make-up applied and wait to sally forth at the appropriate hour. It's dirty and when the light is on it's fluorescent. We will apparently need to clean up the garage afterwards. The make-up will take about fifteen minutes per person - we are twenty six. Once I'm in, The Dress, I don't think I'll be able to take it off, (it's very large!). Not too worry I'm sure that it will be an experience..

As a dance troupe we still have a strong resemblance to the Moldovian Ballet that we once saw in Aguilas.. One person's arm is up, one is mid-way, another's at their side. One woman is twirling, one has finished, one hasn't started etc etc..

We were asked to collect our head-dresses from the shop because they were taking up so much room.

(Photos of the dress-makers workshop below).

 

 

I now have a head-dress and a muddy coloured body stocking. In the past we have noticed many of the women in their early twenties not wearing much more. I do hope the dress-maker gets a move on.

The pace is hotting up in Aguilas. There are posters on walls, shop windows are decorated, the radio is advertising it as being of 'National Tourist Interest'. The photo shows the window of the local bakers decorated for the carnival.

 

 

 We were all interviewed for a local TV station. We had to wait two hours, (in what resembled someone's front room), because the Ariel had blown off the roof earlier. "Were the dance moves difficult?" asked the presenter. "No" the participant replied with a smile and shrug of her shoulders - if only. The microphone was tossed around the room like a hot potatoe and eventually thrust into the hands of our German friend and then on to myself. We'd said, how friendly the group were and how much we were enjoying it all, leaving my poor husband with nothing to say except, "I don't speak much Spanish," before passing the mike on.

I've managed to sprain my ankle. Could anyone let us know the name of the 'Reality Show' that I'm now convinced we are secretly taking part in?

 

Thanks for reading. My next blog, (at the beginning of March), will hopefully contain photos of our triumphant four evenings of being part of the Aguilas carnival. 

If you have any comments I would love to receive them at :www.writerinaguilas@gmail.com

 See you at the beginning of March when it will all be over!, Cathy 

 



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