Life in Culebrón

For a long, long time Alicante farmers have celebrated the longest day of the year by burning bonfires. Despite lots of attempts, by the authorities, to control or prohibit the setting of bonfires in city streets the practise went on until, eventually, the town council gave in and allowed the burning to take place in a regulated way. Las Hogueras are now a huge event in Alicante both for tourists and for locals. Lots of things go on in the days preceding the key event including a full programme of bullfights, concerts and processions but the climax is setting fire to the huge papiér maché (and polystyrene) statues, the hogueras, that are commissioned by neighbourhood based associations called barracas. Each barraca pays an artist to create an hoguera for them. How big the creation is depends on how much the barraca can raise through the year to pay the artist. Eventually, amidst lots of music, drinking, dancing and general hullabaloo a firework display set off above the town's cast...

Everone knows about Marmite; how Britons long for it when they're abroad. Marmite of course could be anything that's available in the UK but not so readily available here. The truth is that nearly everything we want, foodwise and otherwise, is available locally but if we do get a craving for something "English" it will be either in the English shops (we have three within a 20 minute drive) or in the larger supermarkets all of which have an international section. So McVitie's Digestives and Heinz Baked Beans come from the local supermarket, Heinz Sandwich Spread and Patak's Curry Paste from the Carrefour and Marmite and Peter's Pies from the English shop. Some things are in short supply and expensive so, although we can get Taylors Yorshire Teabags from an English shop about 15kms away they are nearly £3 for 40 which seems a bit dear. So we still ask our pals to bring them out from the UK. I use Brylcreem. Even in the UK it's not easy to find Brylcre...

The place I work wants to try and get a no parking order outside the building. I was despatched to find out if this was possible. I walked to the Town Hall and asked the receptionist who I should talk to about yellow lines and parking restrictions. The Local Police. I walked to the Local Police station. I explained what I wanted to the police officer in the reception area. Not very likely he said. He sent me to talk to his boss. I explained what I wanted. Might be possible he said. Go to the Town Hall for the form. I walked to the Town Hall and got the form. It has a bit for personal details and then two biggish boxes to explain what the problem is and what you would like the Town Hall to do. I took it back to work, filled it in and then walked back to the Town Hall where I handed it in. They stamped the form and gave me a copy. How long will we have to wait for a decision I asked. That's up to the Mayor they said. Interesting process.

With the car out of action I had to walk the four or so kilometres into work this morning. I decided to walk down the main road as it's faster than the tracks so I put on one of those fluorescent waistcoats. Several lorry drivers moved their vehicles over rather than see me flail around in their slipstram. Forty minutes got me into town. In the evning my boss loaned me a mountain bike. I had to blow up the tyres and do a bit of adjusting to make it roadworthy but, eventually, I could put off the dread moment no longer and I had to ride the thing. I got home in about 15 minutes riding more or less the same route as I'd walked in the morning. The walk was OK, I could have done without the gravel in my boots but basically a pleasant enough stroll with only a few minutes to recover. The bike on the other hand was hard. I felt quite vulnerable but it was difficult to think about much other than the exertion. I nearly fell over when I got home as my legs were so wobbly. Now I see wh...

Not emotionally. I had to make a mercy dash to the airport when a pal left his passport at home. I got there and handed it over. On the way out of the airport car park the car didn't seem too happy to go into gear but it wasn't until I got snarled up in some roadworks just outside Monóvar that it decided to give up the ghost. The hydraulics on the clutch had given way and I couldn't select a gear. I coasted to a halt on the hard shoulder. I put out my warning triangles, donned my fluorescent jacket (compulsory items in Spain), looked under the bonnet, found the clutch reservoir was empty and took a stroll to the nearest garage where I bought some fluid. I got quite warm with the walking. Of course it wasn't going to be as easy as just putting in more fluid. The stuff spilled out inside the cab. I called RACE, the RAC or AA equivalent in Spain. I was pleased I'd kept up my membership. Apart from the chap in Madrid who I spoke to on the phone at the RACE rescue centre...

I'm not keen on killing things. Generally if some creature isn't having a go at me I'll leave it alone. Today though I spotted a very small wasp's nest on our back door and when I hunted around there were another five nests attached to the walls or beneath the roof overhang. It was easy enough to move the little ones with five or six resident wasps but I hesitated at the thought of shifting something with twenty or thirty occupants. I hear that wasps sting! So, I took a leaf out of Slobodan Milošević's book and slaughtered the whole lot except I did it with a lavender scented flyspray.

Crisps in a bowl, cold beer at the ready, wandering around the house whilst the pre match commentary goes on. 3pm kick off for the England Paraguay game. But at 3pm the commentators kept on blathering and showing highlights from yesterdays game. It was obvious the game was not on so we had to jump in the car and go to town to the English bar with a big dish on the roof. We listened to Motson and saw England's rather lacklustre victory over Paraguay courtesy of the BBC. A few weeks ago we bought a digital TV box that allows us to watch a number of free to air Spanish channels with digital broadcasts. One of the channels we have is a new company called "La Sexta" - the sixth full scale broadcaster in Spain. La Sexta has similar problems to those encountered by Channel 5 when they started up in the UK. Not everyone can get the signal and there often needs to be a bit of aerial work even in areas where the signal is OK. But we were fine with a good clear signal. All the pre...

Lots of towns in the Valencian Community and particularly here in Alicante Province celebrate Moros y Cristianos. The events vary in lots of details but usually bands of townsfolk, belonging to one or other group, parade through the streets dressed as either Moors or Christians followed by a band that bangs out a very drum based music. It's all to celebrate either the heritage left behind by the Moors or the final victory over the Moors by the Christians. Take your ideaological stance. Remember the Arabs, or Moors, invaded Spain in 711AD but got stopped just inside France at the battle of Tours by Charles Martel in 732. From then on, slowly but surely, the Christians pushed the Arabs back until they finally lost Granada, their last stronghold, in 1492. That's the same year the Spaniards paid for Columbus's expedition to the the "New World". So there were Arabs in Spain for a long time and there were lots of temporary frontiers between the two sides. One of those t...

Along with our next door neighbour, John, I went along to the meeting of the Culebrón Neighbourhood Association yesterday evening. There were two other Britons who turned up for the meeting too. The total meeting attendance was 17 people so we represented a good percentage of the turnout. The minutes from the last meeting were only available to the top table. They were handwritten in biro. We talked about trying to get a new roundabut to slow down the traffic as it approaches the village but the Town Hall said that was something for the equivalent of the Highways Agency to sort out. We went on to the new drainage and water system being put into the village. Our specific question was about whether our block of three houses would be included. Nobody knew. Though apparently there was an undertaking to include every house in Culebrón so we live in hope. Up to now the meeting had been reasonably organised. Lots of interjections from the floor but basically following an agenda. Now though we...

Pinoso, our local "Town Hall" town isn't exactly picturesque. It has some nice buildings in amongst the new concrete blocks but, in general, it is architecturally bland. That some charge could be levelled against the majority of towns in Alicante province with very few exceptions. Nonetheless, they seem to be keen to demolish almost anything that remains of the old Pinoso. When I went to get my newspaper the other morning half of the car park was closed off as they were knocking down a couple more buildings. It happens all the time. The new building that goes in its place will be better built with better facilities but there seems to be no concept of hanging on to the best of what remains or building new stuff that fits in with the old.

Yesterday my employers asked me to go and collect some furniture from a factory near to Albacete in Castilla la Mancha. I travelled the 300kms round trip on a variety of roads, through some lovely scenery, and I didn't encounter a single traffic hold up the whole way. When I used to live in the UK the traffic was horible. Even the small back roads were crowded. It's much nicer driving in Spain. The picture shows the main road between Yecla and Almansa at about 3pm. It's not very busy. And today, brushing my teeth and listening to the news I'm pretty certain that there was an item that said transexuals can now have their identity documents changed to reflect their preferred sex without the need for any judicial process or sex change operation. That sounds like a pretty remarkable personal freedom to me for a country that only 30 years ago was ruled by a fascist dictator