Fiesta and fun

This week began with a trip to Burriana Beach with my friend and her daughter, luxuriating on the sunbeds with the thick mattresses under coconut parasols. This was perfect preparation for a diversion into Nerja town for my shopaholic companions to get another fix. As a shopaphobic, I stationed myself outside a central café/bar overlooking the church square, indulged in some delicious hummous and pitta bread and browsed through a magazine between eating and people watching. There was a feeling of something imminent by an increased police presence, some of the square cordoned off and some young band members tuning (well tooting) their instruments! Anyway, the church clock chimed 8 p.m. and out of the church came a Madonna in muted gold, on a plinth festooned with fresh white lilies, holding toddler Jesus’s hand. Unlike the Puente Madonna who was carried along supported on people’s shoulders, the Nerja Madonna was being held up high with outstretched arms, by some very muscular, tanned Spanish men, wearing medals around their neck (not sure if they were in recognition of their strength, but they deserved them to be!). Outside the church, the men continued to hold the plinth at arms length and sway in rhythm to the now familiar female Spanish wailing music. The article I was reading was about mindfulness, but I couldn’t even concentrate my mind on it enough to finish it – everything was far too exciting. Exploding rockets were being set off at irregular intervals from a roof somewhere, and a troop of dancers, ladies dressed in electric blue dresses with full skirts and white petticoats and men with trousers like matadors were swinging themselves and eachother around using castinets trailing multicoloured ribbons. The crowd were clapping and cheering, a cameraman was filming for the local cable t.v. and all the time the strong muscular men were swaying Madonna from side to side.

Eventually, the singing stopped and the band formed on the street playing the same strange tune as the Peunte parade. The Madonna men finally rested her plinth poles on their shoulders and set off on their march around the tiny, crowded streets of Nerja, followed by a crowd and saluted by frequent rocket explosions.

My friend, having missed the performance, returned laden with many bags accompanied by her terrified daughter, who has an intense fear of fireworks!!!!! That had to be about the worst place for her so we quickly sought refuge in a delightful Mexican bar where the live music drowned out the noise, and there was much to offer for the vegetarian palate.

Having a speedy change over day with my friends departure followed by the arrival of a group of 8 young Australians saw Alex and I going off to our first house party over here, totally exhausted. At the friend’s 60th there was lots of delicious food and drink, a backdrop of lake vinuela and mount maroma from their veranda and comparing of notes with lots of other ex-pats. Pictures were passed round of a fire which had taken hold on the other side of the hill across our valley where one couple lived. They showed how the Spanish fire fighting helicopter had hovered over their next door neighbours pool, scooped water into its dangling bucket then precariously tipped the chopper to cascade the water directly over the flames. The fire was contained within two hours – about how long it took them to empty the pool which had probably taken the owners 24 hours and many euros to fill!

Meanwhile, back at Casa Alejandro it was very satisfying to find our guests having a wonderful time playing water volley ball in the pool – and actually keeping score (girls were winning of course). In the water they had the most ingenious contrivance which they have promised to leave for me. It is an almost conical shaped inflatable with a fat, ring shaped base with several cup holders around it. The top of the cone shape lifts off and inside you can keep your cans of beer on ice!! Well if that’s not a floating bar, then nothing is!