Exploring Murcia - Jumilla, Blanca and Archena - wine tasting and Sabre Toothed Tigers.

After the excitement of the carnival, life in Aguilas has returned to what passes for normal. My husband cycles nearly every day and is busy converting a semi -outside utility room into part of the kitchen.

I found an advert on a lamppost for a trip out with the local housewives association. Regular readers of my blog will have read an account of a previous trip, (see further down this page). Any resemblance to the English WI rests only on the fact that whereas they start meetings with a singing of Jerusalem, the Spanish group (at least when on a day out), have a quick joint prayer. This is usually however followed by dirty jokes, singing and dancing down the aisle of the bus.
This trip was billed as a visit to a vineyard, a museum and lunch out. I'm ever ready to improve my Spanish and knowledge of the local vino, so this seemed like a must.
About fifty excited Spanish women and myself set off on the bus at 9am. We had an intrepid male guide who after the prayers and jokes etc, passed around free biscuits made with citrus fruits which were the speciality of his village. This went down very well with us all.
We were driven inland. It was an unusually dull day for March but even so the landscape was lit up by field after field of blossom which ranged from deepest wine, to shocking pink, to pale lilac. These were the peach trees and my photo really doesn't do them justice.

 

We arrived at Jumilla a town that at first glance seemed to be comprised of workshops, factories, dusty roads and blocks of flats. The remains of a castle high up on a hill dominate the town and I was pleasantly surprised when we walked to an enchanting older part. Quiet narrow streets, houses with overhanging balconies covered with pots of scarlet geraniums and in a tiny square we found the museum.

 

 



This tiny museum like so many things in this part of Spain was full of hidden gems and surprises. The basement contained religious sculptures, the next floor contained fossils, geological rocks and strange large pieces of rock indented by huge footprints. These footprints included those of a Sabre Toothed Tiger, elephants, camels and rhinoceros that roamed Murcia in pre-history. They were discovered at La Hoya De La Sima where more are preserved. It is apparently the only place in Europe where footprints like this can be seen and yet hardly anyone seems to know that they exist.

I could have spent all day on this floor but time was short so I went on to the next. Here were fascinating exhibitions of life in the 18th and 19th century, showing a full sized waggon and horse, costumes, implements, a small section of a pharmacy and the working of the esparto grass industry. (See a previous blog for more about this)

Jars in the 'pharmacy.'

 

My 'Tardis' like experience continued on the next floor which contains an exhibition of over 3000 butterflies. As you can see they were extremely beautiful but it always seems so sad to see them trapped forever in this way.

 

I could have spent much longer here but we all returned to the coach to set off for the wine tasting. The guide was quite annoyed that we were apparently late, and all were told that if they needed the toilet they must go before viewing whatever we were at first. We drove through the town and down a winding dirt track through more beautiful fields of peach blossom before arriving at this modern bodega, (vineyard).

We were too late for the tour which was a shame but not too late for the nibbles and degustacion, (wine tasting).

 

It was by now around two thrty in the afternoon and none of us had eaten - the wine tasting seemed to go quite well, (you can imagine the noise levels), and it took some time afterwards to pack fifty peoples purchases into the hold of the coach. At three thirty we set off for lunch.

Lunch was served in an aircraft hanger sized room of the type frequently used here for wedding receptions, and meals following baptisms, first communions etc.

 

 One could drink as much as you wanted of the local red wine, beer or whatever you wished. The first course consisted of meats and salad, bread and toast.

The second course was deep fried cheese with tomato, the third was deep fried squid, the fourth was two different types of huge prawns, this was followed by a lemon sorbet, the fifth course consisted of some fried fish with a few French fries, a sixth course of custard known as natillas here followed by profiteroles in a chocolate sauce and finally a sweet pastry, all rounded off by coffee etc. Now I thought I'd got a good appetite but even I was defeated. Pretty good value too as the entire day was costing about £35 including the meal!

After this it was time for some music and dancing. As you may be able to see from the photo traditional type Spanish dancing is a normal occurrence here and far from being a stereotype only seen in old films.

We should have gone off to see a monastery at this point but it was pouring with rain so that was abandoned. (The people here will rarely set foot outside if it is raining).

Having danced off one or two of the lunch courses we all got back onto the coach. To my surprise we set off into the mountains and had a tour at dusk of the surrounding countryside and villages. It was extremely beautiful. The rain eased off and the mountains seemed to be floating in mist and we passed houses precariously balanced above deep gorges.

We stopped at a small village called Blanca. A large river flowed through it, everyone except myself trooped into a museum. Once they were inside the village was completely silent and incredibly peaceful. The guide said that even the birds are quiet in Blanca and it was certainly true that evening. The museum contained the Tourist Office, some machinery that once pumped water and was selling the little biscuits that we'd all tried on the coach what seemed like a lifetime ago in the morning. In spite of the amount we'd all eaten these were bought up at a tremendous rate.

Finally we all got back on the coach. I was tiring by now I must admit I don't have the stamina of these ladies who average around sixty five years old! I drifted a bit in the announcements so I was pretty surprised when we stopped several miles on in the town of Archena.

"Why have we stopped?" I asked the woman beside me.

"For the degustacion -tasting, of course."

 Of course! We'd only had a six or seven course lunch! We all piled into a shop selling meats, sausages, pates, cheeses etc. Samples were laid out around the shop including some of the local vino. I have to confess I found myself tasting along with the rest of them, and jolly good it was too.

 

 

 

 

All decanted yet again to the coach, stuffing purchases into overhead racks, under feet,or piled up on our laps. As the castle in Aguilas finally hove into sight at around nine pm. the women all started to sing a sweet and beautiful song about Aguilas. I've heard it before but it never fails to make me smile and be glad to feel that I'm included in the lives of the friendly people who live here.

"Did you have a good day?" asked the husband.

"I'll say!"  

 

I hope you enjoyed this blog. If you have any comments please send them to :

writerinaguilas@gmail.com 

My next blog will be published in the middle of May.

Best Wishes,

Cathy

p.s. A friend here helps to rescue dogs and cats that are often abandoned at rubbish bins etc. You could help their work by clicking 'like on their facebook page:-

San animal santuario.

Their web address is : www.sananimal.org.

Many thanks ,Cathy

 

 

 





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! 

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