So did I really see a wolf?

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!

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.

Antonio's Balsa

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.

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.

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 – capers!

A caper bush

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.

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!

No merienda today though.

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.

Millie and Holly -  the Wolf Slayers

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.

SIESTA

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.

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.

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!

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!!

Having said that, in the campo, the countryside, there is another Spanish rhythm.

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. 


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.

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.

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.

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!

Coffee time then! 
We found a bar and ordered 
– 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!

The day’s looking  good – so let’s get on with it.

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.

Then something financial - off to the bank, and the day started to go downhill!

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.

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! 

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.

…. And then it was siesta.

….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.

So when in Spain, remember many tasks will need to be done mañana – not tomorrow necessarily, but certainly not today! 

Twitching

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.

Then she got lucky.

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.

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.

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.   http://angleseyrocknrollclub.synthasite.com/

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.

Any one know anything about this 'zebra' ant

Anyone know what insect this nest is used by?

A Parranda with Katty

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,

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.

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.

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. 

The usual cheery “Hola”, came from the open window as he passed.

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 – “they have too much food and attention”; and wanted to know if we were expecting more visitors this summer?

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. 

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.

In Spanish 'parranda' means to go to a Party - these two just had a party on the street.

It's all getting a bit tense here

With less than a week to go to the local elections it’s all getting a bit tense here!

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.

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

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!

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!

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!

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! 

He must have been desperate - it was at least 90 seconds!

Now, that’s what I call a vote catcher!

Good Luck UK

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.

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?  

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.

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?

Another example is in my home village of Oria. 
On the hillside, in the centre of the village are the ruins of a
13^th 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 erected, right in the middle of the ancient monument!

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.

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!

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!

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.

….and surely the greatest failure to plan properly has resulted in the construction of 12500 ‘illegal’ homes, in the Almanzora valley.

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  http://www.almanzora-au.org/  

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!

Good luck UK

It’s primavera! Indeed sap is rising in the Barranco!

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.

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.

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!

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!

Spring is certainly here, and the sap is rising!

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!

A little later I received a whispered response; - I'm hiding in the loo! Has he gone yet?

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.

It’s primavera! Indeed sap is rising in the Barranco!