Lollipop Trees

If I cut a corner walking to my Spanish workplace, there are some lines of trees at the perimeter of a small park. Their shape is particular and so regular as to have required the careful attention of a Spaniard who knows about these things.

Reaching the tops must have been difficult!

Terry

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Frailes and Sin

Saturday; Clare's moving day but I can't be there since I am in Spain. Hope it went well!

And this Saturday I went to a village party. It was at the invitation of a work colleague who is an officer of the village and, if his friends can be trusted, who was the sole organiser of the event.

The village was "Frailes" in the Jaên district hence part 1 of the title. The event hosted 2000 people.

There were some local product stalls and the eating was to start at 2pm when the gates were opened to the covered seating. At 2:20pm I still had not found the people with my ticket so Antonio, Mr Organiser, called me on my phone and met me at the gate. He must have some influence since on his word I was admitted without question.

I was seated among Spanish people with 3 of whom I could communicate since they spoke English.

We sat down and, if your hearing was good, conversed below the noise of 2000 other conversations all around you. It was probably after 3 that the first dish arrived. Up to then we enjoyed bread dipped in olive oil and unlimited wine.

The appetiser was a selection of black and red puddings and cubes of local cheese. The black pudding was surprisingly creamy and very rich.

Amazingly the organisers managed to then serve bean and meat stew hot to everyone. It came from one of the largest pots I have ever seen and it compensated a little for the effects of the wine. Many people were local and could walk home but I had come an hours drive in a brand new car.

Course 3 was meat and potato, shared in the centre of the table, then the sugary pastries so loved in this region.

There was seconds of everything if you wanted to be a pig.

I found that it was the done thing to mix the wine with lemonade. "Do-it-yourself sangria" I joked but it was taken seriously and I was put right that this was "summer wine" and sangria was quite different.

I am sure it is so.

So it finished when I guessed it would at around 6pm. Up in the hills (1000 meters they said) it was getting a little cooler and I was glad of my jacket. "Now we have part 2" Antonio informed me. "We go down to the pub". And so we did. It was quite a long way down too.

The pub was just as noisy as the open-air meal, but indoors! At 10pm I was informed that it was too late to sleep so we would eat. Tapas Spanish style. I sampled everything and it was all good. The pub had a children's room to one side and the children in our party helped polish off the sweeter dishes.

I made sure I drank "Sin beer", that is, without alcohol. It was a late night for me and a long drive.

I was almost glad when we could settle up with the bar and head off home at 11pm. I had an hours drive and the walk back up the hill to the car felt much longer than the walk down. I wondered if the hotel would still be open at midnight or whether I would have to ring the bell, but whilst the key was in the lock, the hotel door was open and the bar still running when I returned. I waived them good night so they knew I was back and left them to it. Spain parties late I remembered.

So my afternoon out in the mountain village also took half the night. I photographed the rustic village from the pub, and here are some of the other photos too.

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