tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51320970110075458962024-03-14T03:58:08.467-07:00Almonds, Olives and Eaglespetehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-77178089044544180622014-07-15T09:08:00.000-07:002014-07-15T09:08:25.646-07:00A tale of two cranes ......<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing much happens from one day to the next in the
Barranco. It’s normally so peaceful, with the vecinos quietly getting on with
tending their land and caring for their animals; and so when something does
happen that requires a crane, it is something of note! That has happened twice
now this year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first crane was required last January by Andre and
Isobel. There had been an exceptionally
good olive crop. The pair had worked really hard for more than a week,
spreading nets below their trees and beating with sticks to dislodge the
olives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These were then loaded into a large canvas container, and when the container
was full and the harvest complete, a lorry with an onboard crane arrived at
their casa to haul it onto its rear for transport down to the olive oil factory
in Albox. They had over 1000 kilos of olives, which made many litres of oil,
that were mainly sold to the factory. We were fortunate enough to receive a
large bottle as well.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhMIooDBI-fnCBOk_X0sfgysR7eQK9unuGXM8aXrC2KLYHS1UPiy-nYN1Rj9izolWZ783DfAd6dGGJjRqrgoKvio-IKSVDAySZXpTWd9yklhxAjuAmVwF48WwEN-KEqKzqMwy3IfIreI/s1600/HPIM6195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhMIooDBI-fnCBOk_X0sfgysR7eQK9unuGXM8aXrC2KLYHS1UPiy-nYN1Rj9izolWZ783DfAd6dGGJjRqrgoKvio-IKSVDAySZXpTWd9yklhxAjuAmVwF48WwEN-KEqKzqMwy3IfIreI/s1600/HPIM6195.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, for one weekend of the year, the Barranquillos
assemble from all parts of the globe, to meet up with extended families and
friends for the annual fiesta. It is the one weekend of the year when we can
walk home to Casa Erizo from the “bar that never shuts”; after enjoying music, dancing,
games, paella and tapas. This year the Fiesta is in August, and I’ll tell you
all about it then, but preparations have been going on to improve the fiesta
site for several weeks now, and today a crane was needed to help complete the
work.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crane supports the canopy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shade for the fiesta is essential, and normally a collection
of tarpaulins are rigged over the rough concrete base of the fiesta site. This
year though there has been much work initiated (I think by the Town Hall –
there are elections next year, and last time they only won by 2 votes), to
create a new attractive patterned floor surface; with safety rail; ramp to the
stage; built in seating; and most impressively of all a huge decorative canopy
frame for the material that will provide shade. So once again this year a crane
appeared in the Barranco to suspend the canopy on metal stilts, while they were
welded securely into position.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One works while six supervise</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Viva la fiesta.</span></div>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-64683291080780144712014-07-15T04:09:00.001-07:002014-07-15T04:09:51.242-07:00Some sad news.........<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A couple of weeks ago, after several months of virtually no
rainfall, we had a ferocious storm, with thunder, lightning, torrential rain
and giant hail stones. The mountains turned a January white in June and the caminos
became rivers. The main dry river bed rambla, ran half a metre deep with muddy
water, all the way to the Ria Almanzora. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--yiM9pCKcdI/TXiY7G9EZiI/AAAAAAAAACw/hdrvDa_tu8c/s1600/HPIM3504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--yiM9pCKcdI/TXiY7G9EZiI/AAAAAAAAACw/hdrvDa_tu8c/s1600/HPIM3504.jpg" height="292" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rambla running</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While we were taking in this spectacle, we spotted a lone
golden eagle struggling high in the sky against this deluge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I am very sorry to report that the Barranco has one fewer
golden eagle; because while out walking the dogs this morning, they found its
shrunken body.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I collected some of its still beautiful feathers.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhPPEPmeOOdgiUlTovs39zewVhUD8mSHF6l8x6wJEkSP0HATeVONJ_TzRSHSDUZmJQplZPdOTvVm2R8-FTq_YYrNBjpSqtNL8fs7mHWGOvKTmrLQiWU26sqC0MBOmuwjvp9RBfEjx9RA/s1600/IMG_1332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhPPEPmeOOdgiUlTovs39zewVhUD8mSHF6l8x6wJEkSP0HATeVONJ_TzRSHSDUZmJQplZPdOTvVm2R8-FTq_YYrNBjpSqtNL8fs7mHWGOvKTmrLQiWU26sqC0MBOmuwjvp9RBfEjx9RA/s1600/IMG_1332.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hopefully, new birds will take its place. I remember well
the day we climbed up the mountain and witnessed a dozen young golden eagles
departing on their annual migration. Perhaps one of those will return.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9QA1v_sWOgPxbJ6urAJ_UdTbmFlGj58i6pWJ-M6ixa45kl22AHdBzGKMkXGr7j-mNe3ObsDFp91YJNFwvBPS3jhkojj_CgU8FedL6doO9z4idaMfEKTit0vuXW829WoLOo533HosfvQ/s1600/HPIM5036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9QA1v_sWOgPxbJ6urAJ_UdTbmFlGj58i6pWJ-M6ixa45kl22AHdBzGKMkXGr7j-mNe3ObsDFp91YJNFwvBPS3jhkojj_CgU8FedL6doO9z4idaMfEKTit0vuXW829WoLOo533HosfvQ/s1600/HPIM5036.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young golden eagles starting their migration from the Sierra Estancias</td></tr>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-65298290282482859612014-07-08T08:33:00.001-07:002014-07-08T10:14:55.085-07:00Fruit harvest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bI0WAeEkbKI/U7wLOcuoPzI/AAAAAAAAARU/WQQMmnxH0kA/s1600/HPIM6192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bI0WAeEkbKI/U7wLOcuoPzI/AAAAAAAAARU/WQQMmnxH0kA/s1600/HPIM6192.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a
warm evening so I was outside reading, and enjoying the tranquillity and
scenery of the valley, as the sun started to disappear and reflect
golden on the mountains.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then my
husky cross Millie started a low growl; the sort of growl she gives when, while
not feeling threatened, everything is not quite how it should be. The subject
of Millie’s disquiet were two of my neighbours, David and Gregorio who had
arrived with baskets and a ladder to pick the cherries off the large tree next
to the acequia. This tree is too large to be netted, so they needed to try and
beat the birds to the ripe juicy fruit.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9U4ETzCkTA/U7wNanJNYDI/AAAAAAAAARs/0cW1SssUi14/s1600/HPIM6430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9U4ETzCkTA/U7wNanJNYDI/AAAAAAAAARs/0cW1SssUi14/s1600/HPIM6430.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">They could have employed the tree climbing scarecrows employed by other neighbours. Father Christmas and Michael Jackson!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We too had
some picking to do – apricots, which we will give away; stew and freeze; jam; dry
and turn into chutney.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FzzwUvVoNwI/U7wGJPUYyiI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Z3ApRZyNQXc/s1600/HPIM6427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FzzwUvVoNwI/U7wGJPUYyiI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Z3ApRZyNQXc/s1600/HPIM6427.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Two days of hot sun and the dried apricots are ready.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UxqUCNRkRUE/U7wGR_1b8wI/AAAAAAAAARE/2B38aAxOsRo/s1600/IMG_1311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UxqUCNRkRUE/U7wGR_1b8wI/AAAAAAAAARE/2B38aAxOsRo/s1600/IMG_1311.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-37671148863082324242013-07-01T06:25:00.001-07:002013-07-01T06:25:33.811-07:00Flowers from the mountain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My neighbours (vecinos) are always up to something in the
campo. Country folk do different things to ‘townies’ like me, and because it’s Spain and
my vecinos are Spanish, the things they do in the ‘campo’ are even more
different!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They always know the season and the place to be out
collecting from the campo – wild asparagus; herbs; mushrooms; scented plants
and capers, to name just a few: The other evening I saw Francesca and Anna on
the mountain side collecting something into plastic bags, and I wanted to know
what was going on. My vecinos are very patient with me when it comes to my
curiosity and ignorance. They explained that in Oria tomorrow there would be a
Mass and procession for Corpus Christi (Ascension Day). They were collecting
flower petals to scatter around the village.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anna and Franchesca</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little later Isobel came past our Casa with her grandson
Jose. They had been up to the fuente (spring) to light candles. I asked her if
she would be going to Oria in the morning. She replied, “Of course, the village
will be very beautiful with all the flower petals in the streets”, so we
decided to go as well and take some photos.</span></div>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-26286133759928283342013-03-25T08:20:00.000-07:002013-03-25T09:13:30.198-07:00Possibly, “The best little potato patch in the whole world!”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Right at the start of this Blog, I said that it was about a
place, where hardly anything ever happened, and that’s as true today, as it was
when I wrote it. That’s perhaps why I haven’t been as prolific about writing
about the place as I’d hoped to be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, something has happened this week, and I’ve got the
‘fotos’ to prove it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It all started with the trundling of a JCB down the camino! Its’
hopper was filled with well rotted goat manure, and it was headed towards Andre’s
huerta (vegetable garden); but not before Heth had bravely stood there to halt
it, so that she could shovel out some, to feed our roses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next day I took the dogs for their afternoon walk, down the same
camino. We went past the huerta, where Andre and Isobel had been joined by
Antonia and Antonio for some 'team' potato planting.
Their mattocks were being skilfully wheeled to start the creation of the
ridges that the emerging potato shoots needed, and the furrows, that would
collect the water, from the balsa, to swell
the tubers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We went on by the balsa (a water tank fed by natural spring)
and up into the closest almond grove. The almond blossom has all but
disappeared now, but the emerging spring flora in the alpine meadow more than
compensates.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once there; I just sat on a rock in the spring sunshine, to
peruse the valley below and watch the activity in the potato field. Everything
was coming together according to experience and craft, learned and passed down
over centuries.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile, the dogs did their usual things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Holly raced up the mountain to chase rabbits, real and
imagined, returning wild eyed and breathless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Millie just mooched around, fascinated by the lizards
starting to emerge from hibernation, that scurried between the clumps of
esparto grass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>And all the while, down below, probably the most perfect little potato
patch in the world was emerging.</b></span></div>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-6284235779413237372012-09-11T07:47:00.002-07:002012-09-11T10:37:15.866-07:00Evening Visitors<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I love sitting out late in the
warm evenings while the mountains slowly surround us with their shadow. I love
to just sit taking in the sounds and the sights of the night.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Once the bee eaters have made
their noisy departure, few sounds break the peace, apart from the cicadas in
the pine trees that create their symphony that ebbs and flows
with intensity through the night. Sometimes, I hear the Scops owls making
their ‘poo..poo..poo’ cry, so characteristic of a Mediterranean summer night. There
is an occasional dog bark or the sound of the Derbyshire birds that greet each
other across the valley with a friendly ‘Hey Up, Hey Up’. That’s right -
peacocks.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> In Barranco de Quiles, There are no street
lights to spoil the vista of the Milky Way or the constellations. A multitude
of satellites track across the sky, and I enjoy the sighting of the
International Space Station, that often crosses the valley in a matter of
minutes, looking like a huge lantern. Nothing compares though to the thrill of
seeing the shooting stars.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Every night of the summer the family
of geckos comes to hunt the insects attracted by the dim wall light. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">But tonight is a different
night.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Around midnight, at the crown
of the hill, dancing torchlights appear along the narrow road. Soon, I hear
excited voices chattering and laughing in the darkness. The small group come
down the dark lane, and disappears on round the bend. Then another group of
people come along: then another: and another, and soon the barranco is
filled with the sounds of people expecting a party! The fireworks that they
light, erupt into the peace of the night - huge explosions! This is the </span></i><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Romería de </span></i></span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Saliente!</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">These are the pilgrims
heading off to the mountain top monastery and church at Saliente, which at 1501
meters is the highest mountain near us.</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Each year, many 100's of people
assemble in the bars of the surrounding towns and villages, discussing their
strategies for the long nighttime walk, and taking the refreshment to help them
achieve their goal! <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Then they all converge on the
beautiful 18<sup>th</sup> century mountain top church, which has been
declared a monument of artistic and historical importance to celebrate in honour
of the 'Virgen of Saliente'. They are joined by many 1000's of other pilgrims
who arrive by car, and then undertake a shorter pilgrimage up the steep path,
to lay thick carpets of flowers all around the alter. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">An incredible sight!</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-33023579471581990952012-09-05T09:06:00.000-07:002012-09-05T09:06:31.919-07:00The season's changing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The sun hadn’t yet come over the mountain when I set off
with the dogs for our morning walk. The air was a little nippy and I was glad
that I have already got this winter’s supply of logs in. There were six and a
half tonnes of cut olive logs delivered, that will fit straight into the
central heating boiler without me having to spend hours toiling with chain saw
and axe to make them fit. What a job it was to get them into the dry store. Fortunately,
I was able to enlist the help of my mate Pape from the market who was glad of
the work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We went past the </span><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;">huerta</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> where Esperanza grows her tomatoes,
onions, beans and </span><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;">calabazas</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">. I
had seen her the other day in Oria and she had told me to help myself to any I
wanted because she had all she needed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Jose was out early too, directing the water flow from the
acequia onto his small olive grove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Soon we came upon Gregorio and Antonia collecting their
almonds. They had spread nets under the tree and were beating the branches with
long poles to bring down the nuts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Millie will have to hurry if she wants to get her share
of the almonds </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">because soon the big almond grapping tractor which can strip a
tree in thirty seconds will be visiting the nearby fields.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Then just before we returned to the casa we came
across</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Antonio collecting the ripe
purple figs. I must remember to collect some of mine today, so that I can get
them drying with the tomatoes in the still hot late summer sun.</span></div>
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petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-8256261746732389892012-03-04T14:00:00.002-08:002012-03-05T03:49:29.868-08:00Pape Sec<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I had the early shift with the dogs today, and I was so glad I did. The pink and white almond blossom both scented and tinted the land, and the sun’s red ball slowly rose from the Mediterranean, but I ended this walk feeling so really angry and guilty too!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My phone had rung as I was nearly back at the casa. It was Pape Sec, my very good Senegalese market trader friend. He was distraught. He was about to set off this morning, to go to market, when he discovered that his battered old van had been broken into, and that his entire stock of handbags had been stolen.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRyGlRKolQwssSt7HfT7Ne-s71SoWaaFQnmV1GlLZgdb8eQtKDzPJRrK-GNFZBkirllZKrVZRQ55EkYQJfe8FCkcMtRxiED4y8tIm0ynBz3YHNqWauG79s9ztIX32TqvUo8-z3Lf4ocM/s1600/HPIM3579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRyGlRKolQwssSt7HfT7Ne-s71SoWaaFQnmV1GlLZgdb8eQtKDzPJRrK-GNFZBkirllZKrVZRQ55EkYQJfe8FCkcMtRxiED4y8tIm0ynBz3YHNqWauG79s9ztIX32TqvUo8-z3Lf4ocM/s320/HPIM3579.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnolNH6wqySbdsrnJdI21sovAEasF4otq7Vk5fs7rWbXd84nFzN5MSHG3x7H-t8FrryDYn2g_ndS3lOP6TU7_NZbf7o10QBeuvVa5S-ALSW2Ky9e7jZhGmnKUsZjy-NHAmLkBQV5B0nlk/s1600/HPIM3571.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnolNH6wqySbdsrnJdI21sovAEasF4otq7Vk5fs7rWbXd84nFzN5MSHG3x7H-t8FrryDYn2g_ndS3lOP6TU7_NZbf7o10QBeuvVa5S-ALSW2Ky9e7jZhGmnKUsZjy-NHAmLkBQV5B0nlk/s320/HPIM3571.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Let me tell you a little about Pape. He’s been in Spain for about 5 years now. He arrived from Senegal on a flight from Dacca to Madrid, and entered the country on a legal visa, which had cost him and his family, what was for them a fortune. They had saved for several years, to raise this. The investment in Pape, was an investment for all the family. Prospects for him to earn any kind of income in Senegal were so poor that the sacrifice of not seeing his family – his mother, wife and two young children for several years (5 years so far) was worth it. The legal visa provided for only one visit. A few of his friends, who arrived here several years ago, now have all the necessary paperwork, and are able to travel back to Senegal by car, and then legally return. When they do, Pape is able to send his family all kinds of small gifts – soap, hand cream, candles, paper and pencils not readily available or affordable there. He has also been able to send money, sometimes 10 Euros, sometimes 20 Euros that have really helped the quality of life of his immediate family, and repay the debt of the visa.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pape’s dream is that one day he will be able to legally return to Senegal, to see his wife, children and ageing mother. His brother died about 6 months ago. A return to the funeral wasn’t an option! He does accept though that the best he can hope for in life is to be a migrant worker, living far from home, seeing his family just occasionally, but at least able to provide them with a life above subsistence level. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">To become legal in Spain, Pape has to fulfil several criteria. He has to be able to prove he has lived here for 3 years. He has to show that he has significant funds in the bank. He also has to show that he is making contributions to the Spanish National Insurance system, either as a self employed person (305 Euros per month and not many traders of any nationality can afford to pay this) or by being an employee of a company. Unemployment in Spain since ‘El Crisis’ (the international financial meltdown), is running well above 20%, so there is virtually no chance of gaining employment other than by occasional ‘unofficial’ agricultural labour. Apparently, it is possible to purchase a ‘contracto’ – paperwork from an ‘employer’ to show that national insurance contributions are being paid by them – but many of these are simply schemes to rip off poor and desperate people.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So in reality, it seems Pape must struggle on. He lives in a flat only intended for two people, but ‘hot bedding’ with 5 others! He must hope that the world wide recession will come to an end soon so that he can get any kind of a wage paying job, or that he can maybe sell just a few more handbags each week for 12 Euros – that he paid 5 Euros for – after travelling 2hours each way to the wholesaler in Elche, at a cost of 40 Euros of diesel – to purchase them! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And so I feel guilty that my life is relatively uncomplicated. By and large I can afford the ‘necessities’ of life and then some! If I need to return to see family in the UK, I can be there next day – if not sooner. However, my mate Pape lives on the edge of economic and emotional survival. He strives under the most difficult circumstances to do his best for the family who he has not seen for years, and has little prospect of doing so soon, so that they can have a marginally better life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And then some ‘low life’ steals his means of survival from him. The handbags they took represent Pape’s very struggling business. Even at the good markets Pape sells very few or even no bags these days, because local people, understandably, are hanging onto their money. The ‘low life’ is probably struggling to survive just like Pape – but that doesn’t stop getting me so angry, that they would harm someone so vulnerable. </span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-41368901394218878232011-12-08T11:21:00.001-08:002011-12-11T13:08:40.932-08:00BELEN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nearly into mid December and the weather continues to be good. Like the summer before it, that lasted until nearly the end of October, this autumn doesn’t seem to know when to move on. Except from one wet day, that deposited a dusting of snow on the highest peaks of the Sierra Maria, we continue to enjoy sunny days with clear blue skies. ‘Strappy top weather’, as Heather calls it! The forecast is, that it will remain the same, at least until the winter solstice, but no doubt we’ll get our ‘comeuppance’, before too long.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But if the weather doesn’t know when to change to reflect the season, you only need to check in the local shops, to see what time of year it is, and how the year is moving on. In the late summer they all had piles of white paper bags. Yes, white paper bags! What are they about? Well they’re to put your grape bunches in, so that they can be ripened on the vine, without being damaged by wasps.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">These were soon to be followed by the colourful plastic flowers. Right through October and November, most kinds of shops, as well as their normal goods, had plastic flowers for sale. The wholesalers, where I buy my market supplies from, had several rows devoted to nothing else. Then, on All Soul’s Day the extended families, armed with picnics, descended on the cemeteries for the day, to remember their deceased relatives, and decorate their internment niches with these flowers. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last month, Gallegos’s, where you can buy absolutely anything – apples to ‘Z beds’ - in his rambling four story store, (and if he’s not got it in stock, he’ll have it in a catalogue, that you can order from) had grape presses on the pavement outside. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So had Biona, where they had also been accumulating great piles of olive and almond wood for the home fires. Also in Biona were large plastic wrapped bales of straw – seeded with sitas – for a tasty home crop of fungi.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today, Merito told me that he will pick his olives the first week of January, and sure enough, just now in the shops around here, you will be tripping over short handled plastic olive rakes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A couple of years ago,<span style="color: #999999;"> </span>I went to help Mel gather some of his - he has over a hundred trees and that year had been a very good crop. Paco, another friend was there to help him too. Mel and Paco couldn't agree on the best way to collect the juicy black olives onto the nets spread below the trees. Mel favoured an olive rake - he claimed that it dislodged fewer olive leaves that later needed cleaning from the crop, than Paco's more direct approach of beating the branches with a large stick. I actually favoured pulling the strings of olives with my hands, but I always had to watch what Paco was doing with his stick, because I was very likely to end up with broken fingers!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Turón, nut nougat can be bought all the year round, but is really synonymous with Spanish Christmas, when it is found in all kinds of varieties and textures, including chocolate.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As I’ve blogged before </span><a href="http://petesinspain.blogspot.com/2011/01/rambling-on-twelfth-night.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">http://petesinspain.blogspot.com/2011/01/rambling-on-twelfth-night.html</span></a> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">many churches have huge displays to depict the nativity, and here in Oria, a couple of brothers Juan and Miguel, who have been creating a Belen for a number of years have put their latest creation onto ‘youtube’ </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWqRRubNRKE&feature=youtu.be&noredirect=1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWqRRubNRKE&feature=youtu.be&noredirect=1</span></a></span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-80276433602246970902011-10-29T11:58:00.000-07:002011-10-29T12:36:13.925-07:00An aerie of eagles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Pete is my most lucky visitor, when it comes to eagle ‘experiences’ in the Barranco.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">He is a keen walker and visits most years, in October. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Last year, we spotted a route up the mountain to the north east of our Casa. After a short stroll down the 'rambla', we started to ascend the rocky spur that would take us up 400 metres to an altitude of nearly 1300 metres. <br />
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In spring the mountain slopes resemble an alpine meadow, but at this time they were covered in purple lavender. Its sweet scent followed us for the entire walk, and we were accompanied by the hum of honeybees, busily working the flowers, even at this altitude and so late in the year. A falcon swooped past, but perhaps even more impressive was the glint of sunshine on the Mediterranean, visible beyond other lower sierras, 25 kilometres away as the falcon flies!</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1kNe9Y6ayaFIQzsT91OwFXqvhoBLGfFDygMRJgfflAA2v1oOgyUUiLTc5HUaeK5WkKN-aIJ8Q7LLff4SFDmqFAaGpVuu7QOLGzTjMI89aiZF1ZI19Ag4-bVAmHZbL8t7T9W4Kbh4Tic/s1600/HPIM5032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1kNe9Y6ayaFIQzsT91OwFXqvhoBLGfFDygMRJgfflAA2v1oOgyUUiLTc5HUaeK5WkKN-aIJ8Q7LLff4SFDmqFAaGpVuu7QOLGzTjMI89aiZF1ZI19Ag4-bVAmHZbL8t7T9W4Kbh4Tic/s640/HPIM5032.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have never looked down on an eagle before, but today, we spotted two, slowly circling with deep wing beats, above the summit of a neighbouring lesser peak. They must have spotted us too, because they moved off down the 'rambla', only for one of them to reappear minutes later, no more than 20 metres above our heads. It used the strong wind on its huge wings like a kite, to hover there for a couple of minutes. Very clearly, we could see the marking of the golden eagle, the fronds at the ends of its broad wings and the wedge shaped tail. It seemed to look disdainfully down us, as if rebuking us, for having the nerve to look down on it!</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It is always a joy to see an eagle in the Barranco, but I feared that after that day's experience, it would never be quite be the same.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But not so! Yesterday evening we saw 13, yes without precedent for me, 13, Golden Eagles circling over the mountain behind the casa. With such a large group, we thought maybe they were vultures, but our binoculars did indeed confirm them as Golden Eagles; as they circled, and came in one by one, to settle on the high cliff top’ to rest and preen themselves and look down on the world as the sun began to set.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So this morning, Pete, John (another visitor) and I decided we were going to try and get a closer look. Off we went with the excited dogs, Millie and Holly, through the hamlet towards the climb up the mountain. We exchanged ‘holas’ with my neighbours. Jose who said that yesterday, he had seen 6 wild goats at the fuenta. “Perhaps the eagles want to feed on goat,” joked Merito. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Up we went, and the higher we climbed, the finer the view became. Beyond the foothills of the Sierra de las Estancias towards Partaloa, was the Almanzora Valley and then the Sierras de los Filabres, with the distinctive Mount Tetica, and the observatory at Calar Alto prominent; and beyond them the Sierra Cabrera with an ultimate vista of the shimmering Mediterranean at Garrucha. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As we ascended we could just make out the eagles peering down on us. Occasionally, one would stretch its massive wings, but while they could curiously see us slowly heading towards their Piedra del Águila,( Eagle Rock) we were sure they wouldn’t move on, until they could see us no more. Sure enough, as we traversed around a rocky slope, that took us out of their view, they set off.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TM8LiI26fuxWWnOKYImtl3t8k6YK7mEOsCXOfpe-3BAVK1OnABZqBUYKWXWVEXo8JRP09dz1Tsgc8P7XmbxoNf6CQwvF1ZHuhFreytGe0xGH5NH_FWvJHbWzzoph52ucw_UKlyKysa8/s1600/HPIM5030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TM8LiI26fuxWWnOKYImtl3t8k6YK7mEOsCXOfpe-3BAVK1OnABZqBUYKWXWVEXo8JRP09dz1Tsgc8P7XmbxoNf6CQwvF1ZHuhFreytGe0xGH5NH_FWvJHbWzzoph52ucw_UKlyKysa8/s640/HPIM5030.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>I know it may be hard to imagine, but the black dots at the centre top of the rock face are eagles</b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">They glided over the Barranco in the direction of Saliente, before catching a thermal that took them far away to the east.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9QA1v_sWOgPxbJ6urAJ_UdTbmFlGj58i6pWJ-M6ixa45kl22AHdBzGKMkXGr7j-mNe3ObsDFp91YJNFwvBPS3jhkojj_CgU8FedL6doO9z4idaMfEKTit0vuXW829WoLOo533HosfvQ/s1600/HPIM5036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9QA1v_sWOgPxbJ6urAJ_UdTbmFlGj58i6pWJ-M6ixa45kl22AHdBzGKMkXGr7j-mNe3ObsDFp91YJNFwvBPS3jhkojj_CgU8FedL6doO9z4idaMfEKTit0vuXW829WoLOo533HosfvQ/s640/HPIM5036.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><b>I think I managed to catch 11 of the eagles as they set of on mass towards Saliente</b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-34372952709660715852011-10-13T08:47:00.000-07:002011-10-13T08:55:43.349-07:00A Visitor from Portugal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;">Merito and Francesca were passing by the casa as they returned from harvesting the almonds from some of their trees. Merito is well into his sixties, but the heavy sack of nuts that he carried on his shoulder seemed no effort to him. The work and cultivation of the land has been the perfect gymnasium for my neighbours. No matter their age, they all seem to have so much strength and energy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">He rested the sack and then he and Francesca, excitedly told us that some people from Fatima in Portugal were visiting next Monday afternoon. They were going to go around all the Barranco; stopping at every house; calling in and taking a photo, and this was the first time for 60 years that this had happened!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Now, you probably wouldn’t know it, but the people in these parts don’t really talk Spanish. It’s all together, another language they speak! As far as the rest of Spain is concerned, it’s probably worse than a cross between Geordie and Glaswegian! So it’s no wonder, that we sometimes wonder, what is really going to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Monday came around and we weren’t a lot wiser; but I had done an internet search on Fatima, and discovered that the place was famous, because a young girl from there, had seen a vision of the Virgin Mary. Could this be something to do with it?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyway, our neighbours were really busy preparing a grand olive bower and floral arrangement at the fiesta area, and it turned out that in fact, the statue of the Virgin of Fatima was being brought to the Barranco, for all to see and venerate. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Now I’m not at all religious, but because my neighbours were so enthused and excited about the event, I cast aside any hypocrisy, and joined in. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The Virgin arrived accompanied by 2 liveried ‘brothers’ and the young local priest Miguel, who has a great sense of fun, not to mention a fine singing voice and a talent for the guitar. The women of the Oria ‘love’ him! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">There was a short service with some singing and prayers and ‘Ave Marias’ , to welcome the Virgin of Fatima to the Barranco, and then the whole community, about 60 of us, processed off to each house in turn; as many as would fit going inside; to have a blessing on the household with the Virgin sitting centre of attention, on a convenient table that was draped with a cloth and decorated with flowers and candles.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-svY3emDqYg0/TpcHLbqaEHI/AAAAAAAAAKI/U5eetZts4i8/s1600/HPIM4996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-svY3emDqYg0/TpcHLbqaEHI/AAAAAAAAAKI/U5eetZts4i8/s640/HPIM4996.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The emotion of the occasion got to many people. Many were teary eyed. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9u7N-agvnLk/TpcHN5JVdVI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/akmCZ4Wz-Rc/s1600/HPIM5010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9u7N-agvnLk/TpcHN5JVdVI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/akmCZ4Wz-Rc/s320/HPIM5010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Heather got gently admonished by the priest for wanting to take her own photos before the blessing was made at our house. Heathen! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">And yes you cynics were right. It all came at a cost – if we’re not going to go to Church, then they are going to bring the collection plate to us!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n0FdpEHRQgU/TpcHM9T-rrI/AAAAAAAAAKM/I1ELwdz2ZJk/s1600/HPIM5017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n0FdpEHRQgU/TpcHM9T-rrI/AAAAAAAAAKM/I1ELwdz2ZJk/s400/HPIM5017.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">But really, it was an amazing afternoon. A whole afternoon, of a whole community coming together – talking together, walking together, and visiting each others houses, with a great sense of community and friendship.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-61909561638263154242011-09-22T08:48:00.000-07:002011-09-22T11:30:47.830-07:00I've got 'Big Nuts'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-ad01uba1DrHtJPDrRIJ1YaRgoNraCpdOmslOOT1CBn6i9BsRVawlyEs5IWT5nPB2WEUMUwbq5Jbp8PGplOK1Y_Jm0Nn0heaXXV3PtBJRVkOx_l2mXFQiuvpMMYUUiubgxqc7w64mlY/s1600/HPIM2295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-ad01uba1DrHtJPDrRIJ1YaRgoNraCpdOmslOOT1CBn6i9BsRVawlyEs5IWT5nPB2WEUMUwbq5Jbp8PGplOK1Y_Jm0Nn0heaXXV3PtBJRVkOx_l2mXFQiuvpMMYUUiubgxqc7w64mlY/s400/HPIM2295.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The pink and white haze of almond blossom that stretches for miles over the hillsides during February has turned to fruit and ripened over the hot summer. This year my few trees are full and their nuts are exceptionally large. Perhaps it’s because we are in a sheltered valley, as across Almeria as a whole, they are saying that the late frosts on the blossom have harmed the harvest.</span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The trees are grown so extensively here because of their tolerance of dry conditions. Tractors now harvest the large farms mechanically, with huge blue umbrella like contraptions that wrap themselves around the tree, and shake the almonds into a hopper. <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGHOpOTjiJiN7q9_frottaK5T9aeIy95EDaXqiLETdxeAtvyT7_BSMbPAJpOmuZhyIDNMzQG_o4M6ON398g6G-FAyi2UEO8jyjw1Jvvh9hPJiyGaZtG4vrkENBJ5iebebIyQ0cp4TXrw/s1600/HPIM4925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGHOpOTjiJiN7q9_frottaK5T9aeIy95EDaXqiLETdxeAtvyT7_BSMbPAJpOmuZhyIDNMzQG_o4M6ON398g6G-FAyi2UEO8jyjw1Jvvh9hPJiyGaZtG4vrkENBJ5iebebIyQ0cp4TXrw/s320/HPIM4925.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEWRuB7AG60beDRC_a4EKCfuzKhxHEiP1fP6byRduPwQgdiIAasvuTM2jWqOHAXDxz9SEbySGrjPff16tKZ-HP5kAfxi982RRhnUPUGxkd3Ny7wSwaaZsuIPcmoCp6OCy-RGg3TJg5Hg/s1600/HPIM4926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEWRuB7AG60beDRC_a4EKCfuzKhxHEiP1fP6byRduPwQgdiIAasvuTM2jWqOHAXDxz9SEbySGrjPff16tKZ-HP5kAfxi982RRhnUPUGxkd3Ny7wSwaaZsuIPcmoCp6OCy-RGg3TJg5Hg/s200/HPIM4926.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">All my neighbours own some almond trees. They have been collecting the nuts by hand and then they use a noisy machine to de-husk the green skins from around the shells. Nothing is wasted, as the husks are saved as winter fodder for the goats, or dried and used as fire kindling. Piles of drying almonds can be seen spread outside every home - except for Andre, who ingeniously uses the heat from his corrugated iron garage roof to dry his. And then the trees are pruned into a distinctive low crown that encourages new shoots; provides for ease of harvesting and also firewood!</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Andre’s 20year old Renault 4 has been away for some major welding repairs, but late this afternoon I was pleased to see him and Isobel trundle down the camino, in it, with long poles extending from the rear windows. They went to the small maize field, where each evening lately, he has tied a couple of his dogs – his ‘policias pequenas’ - to trees, to deter any night creatures (pigs, deer, foxes or stray dogs – who knows) that were likely to raid the ripening corns. <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAHQsEvhovWqKx4_sDWQAvETZa8Qwtf4651cc0CMr1epAJ1GJILYVSu9MFM_sDiy6Xh4ufhwe0EC8RSaYVnYNAjRd7Lc1OZghME2R9AbVzEG4dRqBTRzltq_RLQ6FyxEvp2WQIgXFz30/s1600/HPIM4955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAHQsEvhovWqKx4_sDWQAvETZa8Qwtf4651cc0CMr1epAJ1GJILYVSu9MFM_sDiy6Xh4ufhwe0EC8RSaYVnYNAjRd7Lc1OZghME2R9AbVzEG4dRqBTRzltq_RLQ6FyxEvp2WQIgXFz30/s320/HPIM4955.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Andre's maize field</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They spread a large sheet of olive netting under a tree, and proceeded to loudly thwack it with the long poles. I could hear the nuts raining down onto the sheeting, and it was clear that they were going to collect several sacks. These they could sell one of the local almond factories for around 50centimos per kilo unshelled. <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHWR6flmN4ngiLF6OLG2tjH3Z9uuoXHSHbtXb1OAmg-_7uVOpca9obDlvQgYA-9imlRrcHBo9hEFSMwO30me4P57ad1hIPPfhj1x9of9g_-46r4VCwkM1cHjk2mNllaFws61P1zqwAfSU/s1600/HPIM4933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHWR6flmN4ngiLF6OLG2tjH3Z9uuoXHSHbtXb1OAmg-_7uVOpca9obDlvQgYA-9imlRrcHBo9hEFSMwO30me4P57ad1hIPPfhj1x9of9g_-46r4VCwkM1cHjk2mNllaFws61P1zqwAfSU/s320/HPIM4933.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Millie likes this time of year too!</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">At this time of year, strings of red peppers, hang from the walls of the houses to dry, and these will provide flavour and colour to winter stews. On a wide stone outside his house, Andre dries the pepper seed for next year’s crop. Nothing is ever wasted.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The figs are ripening too - dark purple or subtle yellow depending on the variety - and the birds are 'making hay'.......and so is Merito, who accompanied by his little dog Rocky, has meandered down with a couple of collecting buckets to a 'green fig' tree. I think it’s going to take him some time to fill them, as more seem to be heading to his mouth, than into the buckets.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0uWoe7iWf5g8G7MbgCPOz3e77xiF01NzXDFC6OvUMa4NyzKOAGVeDl95fZm7Yd-_xq1YdYjf7s2nIR2VWyeBTuY2Q37_vZnhdikkhG4JWyYdvS3lMwlZ0HhBsFTnUj6K8jCuMOU8jqbU/s1600/HPIM4956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0uWoe7iWf5g8G7MbgCPOz3e77xiF01NzXDFC6OvUMa4NyzKOAGVeDl95fZm7Yd-_xq1YdYjf7s2nIR2VWyeBTuY2Q37_vZnhdikkhG4JWyYdvS3lMwlZ0HhBsFTnUj6K8jCuMOU8jqbU/s320/HPIM4956.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Autumn is slowly arriving and the colours of the barranco are mellowing to a golden hew, but even as I type, I can hear the small 'hand ploughs', preparing the terraced strips of land, for next springs bounty of potatoes, onions and beans.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></b></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-32809496593523192042011-09-06T09:02:00.000-07:002011-09-06T09:48:11.464-07:00So did I really see a wolf?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most mornings, I am woken up early by the sound of a low growl. I ignore it, but soon it is followed by an impatient bark. Still I ignore it. And then I am fully stirred, when pushing home the joint assault, Holly the lurcher leaps to sit on my chest, and Millie the husky cross, starts to tug at my wrist. It’s only just getting light, so it must be time for a walk!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So off, we go, along the camino, and we soon came across Antonio, standing by the open boot of his ancient blue Fiat, parked near the track down to the first fuente. Antonio now lives in Oria, but has spent most of his life in the Barranco, and still likes to drink the local waters. ‘Could I help him’? He wanted to fetch a couple of large bottles of water, but he had a hernia, so if he held my dogs for me, could I go and fetch some for him.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglwnn-DSzF9XMZMJuK2_xYtpElFGLZMCiUPqmoXUGtN6JjgQS4O3-sVJ4E0XiXhrssGsN8BM10QLbolkNVdV6BIq0aM21HOkkIyqqTLyog-tqo0vK1sZ9EQ-l26Jca9bEj_vhYhCucBo/s1600/HPIM4906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglwnn-DSzF9XMZMJuK2_xYtpElFGLZMCiUPqmoXUGtN6JjgQS4O3-sVJ4E0XiXhrssGsN8BM10QLbolkNVdV6BIq0aM21HOkkIyqqTLyog-tqo0vK1sZ9EQ-l26Jca9bEj_vhYhCucBo/s320/HPIM4906.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Antonio's Balsa</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went down to the fuenta to collect the water, my good deed being rewarded by the sight of blue dragon flies skimming the surface of the balsa. I also enjoyed a cool face rinse and hand cup of water from the fresh mountain spring. Antonio and I happy, we continued on our way. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little owl watched us with little apparent interest from its perch on the telephone wire; and over the valley, which was now out of shadow; a pair of eagles were circling on the first thermals. We surprised a couple of rabbits, but I was able to restrain the dogs, so much to their disappointment, the rabbits were able to scarper up the mountain. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little further on, we came across Juan, Jose’s brother, down from Alicante for a few days. He was scrabbling about on the steep side of the camino, collecting something in a plastic bag from a sprawling ground plant. ‘What are you doing’, I asked? He replied that he was collecting ‘alcaparras’, and that he didn’t like them, but his wife did, but only the very small ones, after they had been pickled in vinegar and salt. Needless to say, I had to look that one up – <b>capers!</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5rp4F2F7pmlkwZ8H5rxkPF_wNWIIUzwplfOEJdaKiGbV_3pSl7XVDoxPPogMdY-A0WWtdObIN3lkM-EGbDiJskYHzKADuAdhyyxog68TtP47za8WybCENMhtYj1I9HWKeiEkqsXbQb8/s1600/HPIM4908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5rp4F2F7pmlkwZ8H5rxkPF_wNWIIUzwplfOEJdaKiGbV_3pSl7XVDoxPPogMdY-A0WWtdObIN3lkM-EGbDiJskYHzKADuAdhyyxog68TtP47za8WybCENMhtYj1I9HWKeiEkqsXbQb8/s320/HPIM4908.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>A caper bush</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then we cut down towards the rambla. Past Katty’s, with strings of red peppers already drying in the sun. Past Isobel’s, large tomatoes ripening on vines in her small front garden and a bucket of prickly pears on her door step.; and then past Mel and Josephine’s and a friendly greeting from Ruff, their rescued Spanish Water Spaniel.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning we had the rambla to ourselves. We were approaching the Boca de Oria; where nearly five years ago, when we had first moved to the Barranco, we had come across Katty and her cousins from Diamuz enjoying a merienda – a picnic party, that we weren’t allowed to leave, until we’d taken a full share of the paella cooked on the open fire, and the melon cooled in the nearby fuenta, washed down of course, with copious amounts of home made wine and whiskey and coke! oh dear!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No merienda today though. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I felt a tightening of the leads and there was a low growl, but not the’ get up and come for a walk’ growl; something far more serious; and up ahead I spotted the cause for concern. Another dog maybe, but not one I’d seen around here, before or since. It was certainly not a fox, far too big. Grey and Alsatian like, but sleek, if not scrawny, and with very long legs, that didn’t so much trot as pad, as it slinked into the undergrowth, with it’s bushy tail fixed firmly between it’s legs.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gvyf29i931c/TmY_dDxHANI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8J2134BOFBI/s1600/HPIM2906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gvyf29i931c/TmY_dDxHANI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8J2134BOFBI/s320/HPIM2906.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Millie and Holly - the Wolf Slayers</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So did I see a wolf? I don’t know for sure. My research says that, while their numbers in Spain are increasing, they haven’t settled here yet. However, they say the same thing about pole cats, and I definitely know I’ve seen one of those.</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-91574788062815788042011-07-01T13:33:00.000-07:002011-07-01T13:33:55.963-07:00SIESTA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Spain, never try to do more in a day, than is practically achievable. By this I mean, that if it involves something technical, financial, legal or medical, attempting to do any more than two things will end in failure and frustration. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now part of this is just because it is Spain! They have a whole profession (the gestorias) devoted to understanding the bureaucracy of the nation. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other reason is siesta! Nothing really opens until 10am and then it all shuts at 2pm, until the ‘tarde’ (5pm-8pm) ….. And we Northern Europeans like to get up once; get on with the days tasks; have some time for relaxation and then go to bed. It is so difficult to start the day again at 5pm – especially if by then, you are thinking only of your first beer!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you have been brought up in Spain, you will have learnt to deal with the fact that the daily rhythm involves waking up, getting up, and getting going, twice in 24 hours. Late start,; mid morning snack; late lunch; maybe some alcohol: bit of a snooze; back to work at 5pm until 8’oclock…. And then the party starts!! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having said that, in the campo, the countryside, there is another Spanish rhythm.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s been getting hot these last few weeks. When it’s not a market day, and I have to be up really early, I get the dog walking, 7am, ‘early shift’. But most often my neighbours have beaten me to start the tasks of the day. Water is torrenting down the acequia from the bolsa neuva . Isobel has been watering the newly sown corn field that will provide fodder for the goats and variety to the family pot in the autumn. All over the valley, goat herds tinkle. Millie, Holly and I nearly adopted a small herd one day, which despite the anguished cries of Maria, the goat shepherdess, wanted to come home with us! Jose has parked his donkey under the shade of an olive tree and is harvesting the first of the summers beans and onions. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The best thing about the ‘early shift’ is that the air is really clear, and you can see miles – even to the big boats leaving Garrucha harbour, 25k as the crow flies and 1100metres down below us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, dogs walked, we had jobs to do in the town, and in these days of really expensive fuel, and not really wanting to go down to the town, any more than we had to anyway, we decided to ‘go for it’ and get as many jobs done as possible.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We set off over the mountain – the ‘red diesel’ guzzling, tank track tractor, was just starting to trundle over the almond groves to riddle them of weeds. Shame really, because many of those weeds were wild rocket – a peppery addition to any bland salad – though I expect to be able to find plenty more.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sure enough, when we arrived at Albox, not the prettiest of towns, but where there has been some investment to try to improve the townscape, it was mainly shut at 9.50am!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coffee time then! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We found a bar and ordered </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">– descafeinado for Heather, and Americano for me – and I am so glad I did. Coffee decaffeinated – why would you bother, when you could have the real thing - laced with (unasked for) brandy! ….and when I came to pay – 2 Euros! For the two including a biscuit!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The day’s looking good – so let’s get on with it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First a technical issue – we wanted to be able to receive Spanish TV in our casa, so into the ‘aerial and cable’ shop, around the corner from the ‘brandy’ bar, we went, to get what we needed. Sorted, no problems.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then something financial - off to the bank, and the day started to go downhill! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve had, £20 sterling in a Cajamar deposit account since we came here. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to have somewhere in Spain where I could put pound notes. Then recently, I discovered that I was being charged more for the account than I was earning in interest. I reckoned it would be about 4 years before I started to owe the bank money, and so for the second time in the month (the first attempt was aborted) I returned to the bank with what I hoped this time, would be all the correct paperwork to close the account…. And I did indeed have all the correct paperwork , but unfortunately the only employee of the bank who could close a £20 account wasn’t there, and we waited and we waited and we waited! 50 minutes later she showed up, and 10 minutes later she got around to closing the account. I tell you, I very nearly closed all the accounts we have there, but I’m sure that in the scheme of things, that was just asking for more trouble.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then off to the gestoría for some bureaucracy. To deliver the papers of the quarter year tax return, and hopefully an explanation from the gestor, Francisco about why I was paying tax when so far this year my market stall hadn’t covered the cost of my autónomo (national health insurance) never mind make a profit! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we engaged him two years ago ,he could talk perfect English. Now nada! However, it took another hour of waiting to talk to him in Spanish about this, and when I left, he had my tax papers, but I was little the wiser.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">…. And then it was siesta.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">….and in the summer months I understand why siesta is such a necessity. It’s just too hot and knackering to do anything between 2pm and 5pm except snooze or float in a pool; though in the cooler season that’s not the case, but I guess custom is custom. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So when in Spain, remember many tasks will need to be done mañana – not tomorrow necessarily, but certainly not today! </span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-20608667034526903922011-06-16T04:15:00.000-07:002011-06-16T04:15:46.850-07:00Twitching<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Earlier this year, when the almonds were in blossom, Heather was out walking when she noticed an eagle circling overhead. She had our cheap digital camera with her, and succeeded in snapping several small black dots in a clear blue sky. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then she got lucky.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7M8sV8X5q5E/TXiavBgJ7KI/AAAAAAAAAEw/f20eI8Bq1g8/s1600/HPIM4577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7M8sV8X5q5E/TXiavBgJ7KI/AAAAAAAAAEw/f20eI8Bq1g8/s400/HPIM4577.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">No one could ever call me a 'twitcher', though I am very interested in the nature around me, and I do like to know what it is that I have seen. Sadly, many of the birds I see go unrecognized, especially, the shy little brown ones hiding in bushes that fly fast and aren’t sparrows.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I am getting better though, as I am able to readily recognise the golden orioles that I surprise at the fig tree near the fuenta; the cuckoos and nightingales that announce the start of spring and the bee eaters and rollers that do the same for summer. I can now distinguish between the different wheatears and shrikes. I’ve even started to recognise one of those ‘little brown jobbies’ as a Sardinian Warbler. My finest moment in ornithology was when I was able to explain to Heather that the ‘peep’ ‘peep’ we could hear in the Barranco most summer evenings wasn’t a reversing JCB, but was in fact a scops owl.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We did have a couple of ‘twitchers’ staying with us recently. Mike and Hazel from Anglesey, who are also mad keen ‘rock and roll’ fans. This is their web site.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><a href="http://angleseyrocknrollclub.synthasite.com/">http://angleseyrocknrollclub.synthasite.com/</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mike took all kinds of photos of the Barranco bird life which I thought some of you may like to see. So here they are. I have deliberately not labelled them, in case any of you wanted to practice your recognition skills.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RzVe3SpmoMU/TefDQ1UDXUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/DMV2cV6sqTw/s1600/P1000741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RzVe3SpmoMU/TefDQ1UDXUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/DMV2cV6sqTw/s320/P1000741.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Any one know anything about this 'zebra' ant</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bzQzUzfaCKQ/TefCyWloJbI/AAAAAAAAAGs/O4RronT1Reg/s1600/unknown+wasp+nest.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bzQzUzfaCKQ/TefCyWloJbI/AAAAAAAAAGs/O4RronT1Reg/s320/unknown+wasp+nest.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyone know what insect this nest is used by?</span></b></td></tr>
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</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-61815600540389154282011-06-09T04:59:00.000-07:002011-06-09T22:26:05.575-07:00A Parranda with Katty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was waiting for the afternoon to cool down enough to take the dogs for a walk up the mountain, when Katty came by the casa. As usual she wanted to know what I was doing? Where was Heather? Was she well? When would she be back? Was she still going to Spanish Classes? “Muy bien”! - though she agreed with me, that even if I didn’t sell much, setting up a stall in the local market and dealing with the locals, was a better way to learn the language, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We chatted about the local election. 83% of the voters in Oria had turned out, with the result that the sitting Mayor had been defeated by a margin of just 20 votes( 750 to 730). A very close result, but now it is all change in the town hall. Katty wasn’t at all happy, partly because her man didn’t win, but mainly because the eagerly anticipated works at the fuenta, started but nowhere near completed, by the last Mayor, had all been abruptly stopped since the result.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just then Andre came up the camino in his ancient red Renault 4, loaded inside and out with the hay, that he had recently cut from several of his tiny fields that are dotted around the valley sides. What a workhorse that old Reanault 4 is – it’s his taxi and his ‘burro’, used to ferry his grandkids Jonny and Lucie to school; Isobel to the market and himself down to his weekly card game; as well as all kinds of other tasks on his scattered smallholding in the barranco. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UA_Or-bvPkM/TfCu0trFtoI/AAAAAAAAAIM/bvv7G6kl4rM/s1600/HPIM4777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UA_Or-bvPkM/TfCu0trFtoI/AAAAAAAAAIM/bvv7G6kl4rM/s320/HPIM4777.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His goats don’t just forage on the mountain herbs. At various times of year their diet is supplemented by other foods. Olive stems after the January harvest; cobs of corn in late summer; almond husks in September, and now the spring hay. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The usual cheery “Hola”, came from the open window as he passed.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BGOtjGAXSFc/TfCu5_fDAzI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/DgEhN5b4G2M/s1600/HPIM4779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BGOtjGAXSFc/TfCu5_fDAzI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/DgEhN5b4G2M/s320/HPIM4779.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Katty and I continued our chat – how unusually wet the spring had been, but how it had made everywhere green and how especially beautiful the flowers that lined the lanes were. She chided me for spoiling my dogs – “<i>they have too much food and attention</i>”; and wanted to know if we were expecting more visitors this summer?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She was about to move on when Heather returned from her Sevilliana dancing class that she enjoys twice weekly with a group of other women and children, Spanish and British, in the next village of Los Cerricos. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Katty went of to greet her, with a hug and kisses on both cheeks. "What dance have you been learning today", she asked? ‘The Parranda’, Heather replied, which resulted in a spontaneous dance in the camino with Katty playing imaginary castanets and loudly humming a happy folk tune she had learned as girl.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLfktFBvruw/TfCu7NzzvWI/AAAAAAAAAIU/rqQ-XTMieAg/s1600/HPIM4769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLfktFBvruw/TfCu7NzzvWI/AAAAAAAAAIU/rqQ-XTMieAg/s320/HPIM4769.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4-gwxN-qXH4/TfCu9-hR1iI/AAAAAAAAAIc/56XcoMb37ck/s1600/HPIM4770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4-gwxN-qXH4/TfCu9-hR1iI/AAAAAAAAAIc/56XcoMb37ck/s320/HPIM4770.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Spanish 'parranda' means to go to a Party - these two just had a party on the street.</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-68455879340344470332011-05-16T14:58:00.000-07:002011-05-17T07:33:34.601-07:00It's all getting a bit tense here<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">With less than a week to go to the local elections it’s all getting a bit tense here!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Well actually it’s not. Except for the ‘politicos’. They are busy distributing leaflets at the markets and vying with each other to place their posters at the best sites.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">And it’s amazing really that we aren’t more bothered. Villages of less than 2500 people will have the opportunity to vote for a new council – who’s Mayor (the Alcalde) will have significant powers and very significant funds, to direct investment into the area, for the next four years, in such programmes as economic development; provision for the elderly; youth facilities; improving the infrastructure and planning</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Here in Oria, it looks like a straight fight between the locally incumbent Socialist party of national Government (PSOE) and the main Conservative opposition (PP), though there is the opportunity to vote for a coalition of independents (The Citizens of Oria) and some Greens! The feeling is, that just maybe, this time, the PSOE may get a bit of a ‘kicking’, because of the state of the economy. However, I’ve heard that many people feel that the Alcalde has done a good job under difficult circumstances, so maybe not!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">In order to secure the Barranco de Quiles vote, work has started on the renovation of the lower fuenta. It looks as if the ancient water supply and clothes washing area is being totally rebuilt, and word is, that most vecinos (neighbours) of the hamlet are really pleased about this, though they would have liked the ‘pot holed’ camino that links them to the village, to have been resurfaced first! Hey Ho! Politics is the art of the possible! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Down in the Almanzora Valley, where there are many expats, things look a little more confused. The voting situation has been complicated by the emergence of two new independent parties involving expats – concerned about the positive development of their communities, but also very much about the property situation of ‘illegal builds’ of homes. I suspect the new ‘activists’ have had little experience of Politics before, and have been driven to get involved, partly through real concern and maybe desperation. I think, as much as power, what they want is access to accurate information! Next time around, I think they will be better organised, to indentify their true alliances, and to make sure their vote counts! This time though, it will be really interesting to see how the vote is split! Whatever, surely it is a good thing that people are trying to get involved, to stand up for their rights and better their communities!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Meanwhile the ‘fight’ for the Barranco vote continues! Another smart car, driven by a smartly suited hombre, and with the PA system ‘ablaze’ meanders down the high camino to the hamlet. In between strains of stirring ‘muzac’, we were being invited to yet another party, where the beer would flow freely, to secure our vote (now that is a good thing about Spanish politics)! …. And then, as the loud strains of Mantovani , echoed and attracted attention over the valley, the smartly suited man got out of his car, and had a wee! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">He must have been desperate - it was at least 90 seconds!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Now, that’s what I call a vote catcher!</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-15635034351912285162011-04-18T12:57:00.000-07:002011-04-24T07:57:17.636-07:00Good Luck UK<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Any previous readers of my blog will know that I love my life in Almeria. However, I pay my taxes here, so feel that I am entitled to make the occasional criticism of the ways things are sometimes done.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many of you will be familiar with the massive black ‘bulls’, prominently perched on hillsides across Spain. I often wondered how the brandy advertisers got away with it. Could you imagine those huge ‘forms’ being allowed in Snowdonia or the Lake District? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px;">I've come to realise that it can be explained by the scale of the place – twice the land area of the UK and only two thirds of the population, a significant number of who live in just a few large conurbations. Consequently much of Spain is relatively sparsely habited, so land is plentiful and there is plenty of space, to make and hide mistakes in the landscape.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For instance, quarrying is very important to the economy here, though with the recession, the demand for marble from the Sierra Filabres has really declined. Even so, in my time in Spain, I have seen a whole huge mountain disappear from the landscape, and no one has batted an eyelid. Could you imagine that in the Peak District?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another example is in my home village of Oria. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the hillside, in the centre of the village are the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">ruins of a</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">13<sup>th</sup> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Century Arab Fort. A path way has been made up to the fort, which has been partly restored, and interesting ‘interpretation’ boards have been set up for the enjoyment and information of visitors. Very good! But there is no getting away from the 3 large communication masts that have been </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">erected, right in the middle of the ancient monument</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px;">!</span></div><div class="separator" dir="rtl" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iMCPS6UX73g/TayUbOOJ0mI/AAAAAAAAAGE/BIN1aXO7n_g/s1600/HPIM4630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iMCPS6UX73g/TayUbOOJ0mI/AAAAAAAAAGE/BIN1aXO7n_g/s320/HPIM4630.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HIB54L7XGSM/TayUb8ouQ_I/AAAAAAAAAGI/eZHfMhPgKSA/s1600/HPIM4650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And speaking of communication masts – our part of Spain is experiencing a rash of them due to provision of the internet to this very rural area; the introduction of digital television and more phone providers. It seems that every available mountain top has been planted with not one, not two but very often three masts. Is there no planning authority to make them mast share, wherever technically possible? I don’t know the answer to that, but even if there is, I don’t suspect the issue of the sprouting of ugly masts has even entered their heads.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There are no railways here and no public transport to speak of. But there are motorways, on which you can travel for miles without seeing another car in either direction!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Travelling along one such motorway you pass the ancient and beautiful town of Velez Rubio, dominated by the magnificent dome and twin squared towers crowned with octagonal belfries, of the Parish Church built in 1753,…….. and the ugly 70’s tower block of flats set right alongside it!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V9KZuiR06mo/TayUc21EmsI/AAAAAAAAAGM/DTDnKJuAxxA/s1600/HPIM4610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V9KZuiR06mo/TayUc21EmsI/AAAAAAAAAGM/DTDnKJuAxxA/s320/HPIM4610.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The coast line between the towns of Carbonerras and Mojacar is very beautiful, with many secluded sandy bays. Naturally, it is protected from development – or is it? On one of those beautiful bays has been constructed a huge hotel complex; which through some strong campaigning by environmental groups, has never been allowed to be completed. Some people argue that the hotel would help generate the local economy, and create much needed employment. Others, that it would destroy a most beautiful natural habitat (with traffic, sewage and other pollution) on which much local tourism is built, and that a proper infrastructure for the development has not been created. Whatever the arguments, what is in evidence is a lack of planning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">….and surely the greatest failure to plan properly has resulted in the construction of 12500 ‘illegal’ homes, in the Almanzora valley. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">The organisation Abusos Urbanisticos Almanzora NO, has been at the forefront of the campaign to achieve justice for the innocent purchasers of these home, who have been deceived by corrupt politicians, developers, lawyers and estate agents, who have systematically taken advantage of a very weak or often non existent planning system, to make a massive financial gain. You can follow the issues at their web site </span><a href="http://www.almanzora-au.org/">http://www.almanzora-au.org/</a> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Meanwhile, I hear that back in the UK, the Government has just about abolished the Planning System, in the interest of driving the economy forward!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Good luck UK</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-75900073269888404202011-03-31T08:39:00.000-07:002011-03-31T08:39:46.993-07:00It’s primavera! Indeed sap is rising in the Barranco!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For several weeks the weather has been a little mixed. Even so the season has moved on! The spectacular almond blossom of February has been replaced by the lime green of new foliage and the suede almond husks. The apricot trees and cherries have both bloomed and small fruit are setting.</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The last couple of days have been really fine and warm. Honey bees swarm over the flowers of the mint bush, and today I have seen my first poppy of the year. Soon the roadsides will be a riot of spring flowers and I am looking forward to taking a steep hike to the mountain tops to see the alpine meadows in full bloom.</span></i></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My neighbour Mel arrived this morning with a dozen eggs - his poultry have started to lay again - so we will have omelettes for breakfast, made from bantams and peacock (pavo real) eggs!</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today, two weeks later than last year, I heard my first cuckoo, though the swallows have been around in sparse numbers for a couple of weeks now. I'm looking forward to the nightingales, bee eaters and golden orioles arriving too - but not just yet!</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Spring is certainly here, and the sap is rising!</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Miguel is around 70 years and lives down the Barranco at the small hamlet of Daimuz. Yesterday, I saw him trip up the camino mounted on his sprightly donkey, following the track around, until he arrived at Sandra's casa, who lives a couple of hundred metres across the valley from us. He jumped down from the donkey and started to examine all around - the vegetable garden; the fruit trees; the new stone wall and the olive grove - examining and inspecting everything. I thought I'd better telephone Sandra to let her know she had a visitor, who hadn't yet presented himself to the front door!</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A little later I received a whispered response; - I'm hiding in the loo! Has he gone yet?</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A long hour passed before a despondent Miguel trudged back down the camino on his donkey, leaving a box of biscuits fastened to the latch of the gate.</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s primavera! Indeed sap is rising in the Barranco!</span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-55433812490628780532011-03-12T11:53:00.000-08:002011-07-06T05:45:46.768-07:00The Rambla<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Contrary to what many of you may think it does rain in Spain – and not just on the plain! We are now into our third day of very damp, cold miserable weather. Maybe we are only about 25 kilometres from the sea, but at the moment our weather very definitely isn't Mediterranean. In fact it is more like north Wales on a bad day!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needless to say, the dogs, cooped up in the house were going ‘stir crazy’, until in the end they ‘mugged’ me into taking them for a walk. So I got myself wrapped up, and set off from our cosy casa.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I figured that I didn’t want to loose sight of the dogs as they chased partridges and rabbits up the mist covered mountains, so I opted to go the low level circuit, around the rambla.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now the rambla is actually a river bed, but normally it resembles a dry dusty track used as a convenient route by walkers and the occasional vehicle. Today a small stream of water trickled down the way. Once though, indeed last year, when there had been much more rain than today, I saw the rambla running with water over a metre deep. It was a swift flowing river! The big 4x4 had to turn back, but the tractor successfully negotiated its way up to the tarmac lane.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And once in the 1970’s, there was so much water in the rambla, from its many tributaries, that it inundated the town of Albox causing such devastation, that it was declared a National Disaster!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Take a look at this old film shot at the time.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3094817875548654660" target="_blank"><span style="color: #dd6900;">http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3094817875548654660</span></a></span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">This video taken of the tragedy in Albox is a such poignant reminder of the power of nature, on this day of such terrible twin disasters, of</span><span style="color: black;"> earthquake and tsunami </span></span>in Japan.</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-2916886386006072462011-03-05T14:15:00.000-08:002011-03-05T14:24:52.047-08:00A trip to the blacksmiths - or the workman's lunch!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">One the more difficult things about living high up a mountain in rural Spain is the quality of the water supply – sometimes ok, but often brown sand stained water or even just gurgling pipes!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">Heather often stops the ‘Gestagua’ plumber Juan Manuel, who is a frequent visitor to the Barranco, to ask what is going on. The basic problem is that the well supply is inadequate, and so when the farmer near Los Cerricos waters his large lettuce field, there is little good water left for us.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">Back in October, Juan Manuel told Heather that “after Merry Christmas”, works would start to bring a much better supply to the Barranco. We were not going to hold our breath. We have learnt that in Spain, “</span>mañana<span lang="EN-US">”, doesn’t mean tomorrow, it means not today!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">But now a new notice has appeared on the post box up the camino, announcing that work would indeed start soon, to create a better supply.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">The situation with the water since we’ve lived here, meant that one of the first things we did, was to install a 'deposito' - an independent water supply for the Casa. Our 'deposito' is a 1500 litre tank that should keep us supplied with water for a week. However, it was sold to us at the price of a 2000 litre tank. I had an interesting time with Oprey, at the builders merchants, explaining to him in Spanish, that the volume of a cylinder is Pi x Radius squared x height, and that I had been overcharged, but we got there in the end!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">I built a small casita to house the 'deposito' pump, which needed a hinged metal lid, so I went to go down to Oria to talk to the blacksmith. On the way I saw Pepe, owner of our nearest bar talking to one of his neighbours, at the development of some new 3 storey flats.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US"> I explained to the blacksmith what I needed, and fully expected a 'mañana' reply - but no - he picked up a sheet of metal -"is this ok?" – he measured it, cut it to size with a giant guillotine, drilled holes and fixed the hinges and hasp. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">While all this was going on, some of his friends dropped in, studying the cutting gear; the anvils; the welding equipment and the work in progress - plough shares, railings and almond 'shakers', a priority job because at that time, the harvest was in full flow. </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">Into the workshop came the lottery seller to make a few sales, and then everyone started to look at the massive lorry, that had created a blockage on the roundabout into the town. He was on his CB radio, with a knowing smile communicating with another 'good buddy'. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, an equally massive marble lorry appeared from the opposite direction of the too narrow streets of Oria. The lorry drivers exchanged greetings and moved on in their respective directions, a queue of cars following!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-US">Then the huge crane from the new flats development swung across two streets to near Pepe's restaurant. A red plastic bucket was suspended from the giant hook. Slowly it was lowered, and at the third attempt Pepe grasped the bucket. Then he waved the paper taken from the bucket, to the cheering men in the scaffolding - the lunch time order has been delivered!</span></div><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">So, how much was my casita top? Complete with hinges and hasp - 7 euros, and entertainment thrown in for free!</span></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-9058360861539120512011-03-04T12:50:00.000-08:002011-03-05T12:54:54.415-08:00The Lift!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were going the supermarket to do the big weekly shop and needed some cash, so we drove into Oria to go to the bank. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we drew up to the bank, Heather jumped out to deal with the cash machine, and I went a little further up the road to the Ayuntamiento (town hall) to turn the car around. I carefully reversed around the lottery ticket seller who always sits on his quad bike on the corner there; and I had nearly completed my three point turn, when an elderly man waved me to a stop. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be frank he looked just a little rough! Sun beaten leathery skin! Work clothes that had many a day of work in them. Tough boots and a cap set at a jaunty angle. A typical old time Andalucían peasant farmer. In his very gruff accent, he mumbled something at me, and then got into the passenger seat, folded his arms and waited for me to set off! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You can’t sit there”, I said! “It’s my wife’s seat”. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So with a huff and a grunt, he got out and seated himself in the back of the car. So what could I do but set off to collect Heather, who I could see was just completing the withdrawal and stashing the cash in her purse.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“WHO IS HE?” She exclaimed when she saw we had gained a passenger from somewhere. She’d only been gone 2 minutes and I’d allowed the car to be hijacked! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I don’t know”, I replied. I could see her thinking how could this happen?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What does he want?” she puzzled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I think he wants a lift”!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Where to”?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I don’t know” – I was pretty bemused myself by now, but I had decided to go with the flow. I don’t like supermarket shopping, and if I was to be kidnapped by a Spanish <span lang="ES-TRAD">bandido</span>, well so be it!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather was pretty nervous about getting into the car with us, but I told her, “I’m sure it will all work out”. So off the three of us went!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Down the main street – where were we going? Bar Oria - No; Third Age Club -No; Coviran supermarket- No and not the butchers either: we went past Nati’s supermarket to the roundabout, and made a right turn to go by the petrol station. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wherever we were going we hadn’t arrived yet, but apparently we were still going in the right direction! About 200 metres further on he tapped me on the shoulder. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I stopped and he got out, and with a “<span lang="ES-TRAD">muchas</span><span lang="ES-TRAD"> </span><span lang="ES-TRAD">gracias</span>” he set off down a little track.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Such is the trust that people here seem to have in each other, and the respect and assistance the old folk can expect</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-64299397039956472472011-02-22T13:01:00.000-08:002011-02-22T14:02:42.138-08:00Chips and tears!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Normally, the Barranco is just so, so tranquil!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes, you can hear a distant chainsaw lopping almonds or olives. Sometimes, for an hour or so, the mattock gives way to the rotavator. Sometimes the local dogs get excited, over something only they can see, smell or imagine! Young Christians’ afternoon visit to his ‘abuela’ (grandma), on his small cylinder motorbike; also interrupt the silence for a short while. Normally though, the only sounds, if any, are bird song or the soft tinkle of goat bells!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning was different though! Heavy machinery! A JCB with large mechanical bucket and ‘bulldozer’, was busy in the field below our Casa, cutting away the sloping bank to create more of a terrace and a much larger field in the process. What could be going on?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During the afternoon, Caterina came past our casa with her dog Tina. I asked her what was going on in the field below. She told me that Juan and Juanna were making a new olive grove. Sure enough, Juanna was busy with her mattock in the field above making sure the acequia was clear for the water necessary, for the olives. Unlike almonds, which can survive very arid conditions, the olive trees need a good soaking, a couple of time a year.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Catti asked me if I wanted some potatoes. They were too heavy for her to carry up from her casa, but if I wanted some, I should come to fetch them. Next morning I went down to her house. Tina was dozing on a mat outside. I called for Catti and she shouted me in. A wood fire was prepared but she wouldn’t light it till much later. A bowl of shelled almonds were next to the fire – ready for toasting –yum! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She went to fetch me a big sack of potatos. Then she went off again and came back with a litre bottle of her recently pressed olive oil – very green and not very clear – but very delicious! Then she reached up to a shelf and produced an old small foto of her daughter (looking like a young bride) outside the local chapel at her ‘First Communion’. She asked if I could use my computer to copy and enlarge it, because in May she was going to Barcelona for the ‘First Communion’ of her granddaughter, and wanted to be able to give one as a little present!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A couple of days later she called around. This time with a bag of oranges from her tree! I had the fotos ready for her, but as usual she liked to see the other fotos, I had scanned for her on other occasions.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">….and then the tears came, as they always did, when she saw the old foto of her guapo Ramon, who died eleven years ago now.</span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-32210692737664466282011-02-10T12:13:00.000-08:002011-02-10T12:13:45.027-08:00Close encounter with 'los zorros'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"><b><i></i></b></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b><i><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I went for a lone walk the other day. It's not often i get out without the dogs, but I needed to return a tool to a neighbour and sometimes they can be a bit pesky! </span></i></b></i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b><i><b><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Going down the camino, I was surprised by a silver grey fox crossing my path. Just a few steps later I heard a 'squawking' noise coming from the small field. Two more young foxes were squabbling over a mouse that one had caught. They chased around the field until the fox that was chasing, spotted me. He quickly slunk off to hide, and the other enjoyed the respite and polished off the poor mouse! Then, hunger satisfied, he jumped into the camino and to my surprise trotted down it towards me where I was standing quietly by a tree. As he drew alongside he suddenly sensed my presence; I said 'Hola', and then with a little scream of great shock, he bounded up the hill into the wood.</span></i></b><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #999999; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5132097011007545896.post-15172883202254348852011-02-08T12:21:00.000-08:002011-03-12T11:54:04.574-08:00Domingo too!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Another Sunday!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">My dogs needed their early morning walk! We set off along the lane. The sun was rising, a rosy glow to the east over the sea, and reflecting golden on the Filabres to the west. Suddenly there was gun fire! Early morning hunters! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">La </span><span lang="ES-TRAD">Caza</span><span lang="EN-GB"> – the ‘sport’ of many men in this part of Spain. Every Sunday, they set out dressed in their camouflage to hunt rabbit, partridge and boar. I’m not sure about their hunting methods, but they involve guns, dogs or both; and the gunfire scares Holly, so that all she can do is tremble and hide for the rest of the morning. Pet dogs and hunters with guns don’t mix!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Now, a good part of my life in Spain seems to be about expending the energy of my dogs. A least two long walks every day are essential, if they are not going to pester me all evening to play games of their choosing! That being the case we decided to go down to Mojacar, for a walk along the beach, where they could chase seagulls and cormorants, up and down the surf, for miles, without fear of meeting La Caza, and hopefully to wear themselves out!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and Holly<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">As we drove into Mojacar, the sea glistened all across the bay as far as Aguilas, and the advertising sign of the ‘Pharmacia’ read 19deg centigrade. The resort town wasn’t melancholy today, as it had been through January. The town had spring in its step! Many more bars were open. Families were playing. There was a meet of cycle clubs. More people were strolling along the sea front.</span></span></b></div></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We set off along the most southerly beach, just out of the town. It is the most deserted and undeveloped – mainly because of the recession! Several shells of apartments are awaiting completion. I suspect they will wait for some time yet! There are some fishermen on the shore and sailing boats out to sea. We set off towards the Moorish Tower and </span><span lang="CA">chirringuito</span><span lang="EN-GB"> at the far end of the beach, the dogs alternatively chasing, digging and playing. Prospects for a peaceful evening bode well! A motorised hang glider provided great entertainment for us and the dogs, the pilot waving back as he cruised overhead.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">At the </span>chirringuito we ordered coffee and tostadas – toasted bread spread with olive oil, tomatoes and cheese. Some hikers came and went and then mountain bikers. Then a 4x4 arrived towing a trailer. Hunters with dogs in ‘tow’! On top of the trailer another ‘beast’ was laid, a deer or boar, dead!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">I went to pay, and was astonished to see that the boar was by the counter, with one leg shackled with some cord so that it couldn’t run away. It was the size of a medium sized dog and was covered in course straight brown hair. It looked pretty bemused, pretty frightened! I asked the </span>camarera, if the pig was going to be eaten. Sensing my feelings, she immediately replied ‘ oh no’; it was going to be released into the campo – to enjoy it’s life in the countryside! The huntsman led the poor pig closer to our table, where Millie and Holly surveyed it with much curiosity and just a little nervousness! I repeated the question – was the pig to be eaten? ‘Oh yes’, he said, ‘Do you want it’?</div><div class="MsoNormal">I declined! Poor Pig! I couldn’t have killed and eaten it. But isn’t it a more honest way of eating meat – hunting, finding, capturing and killing your food, that has had a life in the campo, than resorting to eating one of their ‘sorry’ relatives, who after no life at all, I often see being driven, in double-decker lorries down the motorway, to be slaughtered and butchered!</div></div>petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17379310728378234027noreply@blogger.com1