Sitting around nattering, putting the world to rights, as one does, on a Saturday morning with friends. We were talking about how people make a living in Pinoso.
The most obvious source of employment is in agriculture, particularly in producing wine grapes and almonds, though there are lots of other crops. Unfortunately, it's also true that there are hectares of good agricultural land lying fallow because of the problem of the "generational replacement". The farmers and winemakers are getting on in years, and their sons and daughters want to be teachers and scientists and influencers and local government officers and not farmers and winemakers.
We'd talked about the salt that is pumped out of the salt dome, El Cabeço, and sent as a brine solution down a pipeline to Torrevieja where it is added to the salt lagoons there to increase the yield. Actually, the technical term for a salt dome, diapiro, also gives its name to a couple of wines produced by the local bodega or winery, as in the photo.
There had been a bit of a mention of the shoes that are still made in Pinoso, though even I knew that the most obvious factory closed a while ago. Apart from seeing the Pinoso'S vans flitting around, apart from smelling the epoxy resin in a little workshop next to the library, and apart from seeing the Jover factory down by the town bodega that makes cambrillones (the reinforcing steel shank set into the soles of most shoes), I'm unaware of any other shoemaking facility. That doesn't mean there isn't any, just that I don't know about it.
And then, of course, we got onto the quarry, Monte Coto. For years it was the golden goose, the largest open-cast marble quarry in Europe - a one-time producer of lots of work and lots of money that provided Pinoso with a spectacular range of services but which has been in marked decline for years.
As we talked about the quarry, I said that I'd seen some relatively recent news that Levantina Stone, the largest producer, were axing between a third and a half of their workforce in Monte Coto, the Pinoso marble quarry, and in the offices over in Novelda. I also said that I know there's a long-running argument between the Regional Government and the Town Hall about both the mining rights in Monte Coto and the costs of putting right the environmental damage of the quarry as parts of it are worked out. The legislative stuff is something that I've never quite worked out because our local sources of media are much more interested in a photo of the mayor shaking hands with someone important from the Regional Government than they are in actually giving informative news.
As we were outside a bar for this conversation and as the bar owner hove into view at exactly the correct moment, I asked him if he knew what the beef was. He told me it was about the rights to the reserves underground. He said that it was crystal clear that the town hall owns, and can exploit, the mountain, but that normally the below-ground mining rights belong to the region.
Now I have to say that I have no idea whether he's right or not; it sounded plausible, but it may, or may not be, true. To him, as a Pinoso native, he was quite sure. I mentioned the layoffs at Levantina and he shrugged them off - at one point that would have been important, when there were hundreds at the quarry, but now the numbers are so low that sacking half of them affects almost nothing. Without any prompting, he went on to say that the town was moribund. He said that Pinoso was now a dormitory town for younger workers who went off to work in the larger towns and cities nearby and that the town's only full-time inhabitants were we geriatric foreigners. There is habitually a coven of us outside his bar on a Saturday morning, and he was quick to point out that he was singularly happy with foreigners spending money in bars and restaurants but that it was hardly a sound industrial base.
I countered by saying that how could a town that had at least seven butchers be a doomed town. "Great example," he said. "Tell me the butchers." So I tried. I mentioned a few. To the first he said, "Closed last month". He went on, "Carlos will retire in three years and he has nobody to take over the business; it'll close." He did that with a couple more before some Dutch person called him over, and that was how the conversation closed.
Now seriously, I have no idea if the town councillors tasked with local development, agriculture, industry and commerce would see it quite the same way, but it is quite strange sometimes how, despite living somewhere, you, one, sees things in a different light to other inhabitants. I can't remember seeing any positive industrial news in the local media for quite a while, but it is true that I can think of several small businesses which have closed in the recent past and going in a way that seems odd to my Northern European way of thinking.
I've seen plenty of local shops, that seemed prosperous enough, just close as their owners retired. A particularly notable example was a local restaurant that was, supposedly, famous all over Spain. Even I had seen it featured on the telly, and the parking spots around the very ordinary-looking restaurant were always awash with ostentatious cars. Last year, it just closed. The owner had got to retirement age, so he shut the business. Recently, a biggish tyre place did the same - one day in business, the next closed tight. I've heard lots of speculation as to why without anyone sounding as though they were 100% sure but, again, I suspect simple retirement.
To be honest, I see Pinoso as typical of lots of small towns. Traditional retail is obviously in difficulty at the moment, but there always seem to be people with new business ventures of one sort or another. Some prosper, some fail. It also seems to me that several of the new batch of incoming foreigners, especially the rich Northern Europeans, are relatively young and still economically active. It could be, though, that mine is an over-rosy view and the bar owner has a point.
