036 - Chicken's Heads, Prunes and a Drop of Rain
Andalucia, España - 29th March 2005
¡Buenos Dias Amigos y Amigas!
You might remember a passing reference to the fact that in the early days of our stay at Camping Orgiva the site was really very quiet, and at times we were the only alcampistas on the main section (with just three or four very-long-termers tucked away further down on the sides of the site). After Christmas that began to change and there was a post-festive flurry of comings and goings. We were there so long that it was like we were sitting in the middle and watching the world go round us at times. Jeni got a chance to practice her French with a brace of French people in tiny camper vans, there were Spanish families coming and going in the cabins, Dutch, German, Austrian and Brit motor homes and caravans arriving and leaving.
From having had three pitches each, and an extra one for a personal washing line, we were suddenly in the situation where some people actually had pitch neighbours. Shock, horror! Some people just stayed a few days (couldn't take the pace or the company probably), some came overnight to do their washing and have a shower, but quite a few stayed a month or more, with the inevitable developing of relationships. One of the (many) good things about Camping Orgiva is that it's a very informal site without carefully demarcated pitches and attracts the widest range of people. For example, there was the young British guy in a rather rag-tag freestanding awning-cum-tent who seemed to have all kinds of weird (and not always so wonderful) hangers-on staying - it could get a bit rowdy down his end; there were people in self-converted vans and lorries; hardy walkers in little camper vans with mountain bikes strapped to the back; regular caravans and motor homes of varying vintages, makes and sizes and we even got a couple of big American-style RVs staying whilst we were there.
Big Ones
When the first of these arrived, with its small car in tow on an 'A' frame, there was much peering out from the washing up area, casual saunterings down to the waste-bins to get a better view or blatant staring from the deck-chairs. 'Wow! they're big!' everyone said, as the coach-like vehicle was manoeuvred skilfully alongside the fence at the side of the site. Then a few days later another even more enormous bugger turned up - quad slide-outs, the lot. It couldn't even get up onto the back of the site and had to slew diagonally across a not-really-a-pitch area to get in at all. 'Bloody hell! They're huge!' we all muttered, gazing open-mouthed, as their 4x4 car slid up beside and 3 children and a big dog all baled out, in addition to Mr and Mrs. 'Blimey, look at the size of that!', we all chorused. La Familia Really Big One stayed for two or three weeks - apparently they'd sold up in yUK and were considering moving permanently to Spain - then they headed back north towards France so that some of the family could do a brief post-festive visit to friends and family in yUK.
The Other Big One stayed for a couple months and we gradually got to know Keith and Gayle, who were a really pleasant and constantly smiling pair (although, embarrassingly, we did manage to call Keith 'Terry' for quite a while and he was far too polite to say anything). They were great walkers, hardly ever used their car except for more distant jaunts or Big Shops, and thought nowt of a brisk stroll up a handy mountain with nothing more cumbersome than a small bum-bag and a couple of oranges between them.
Jeni found it a source of great fascination that they were always absolutely impeccably dressed (including after a long and arduous walk) - for a while we speculated that they had a whole team of domestic assistants living in the East Wing Slide Out, whose sole purpose was to ensure that Keith and Gayle were crisply turned out at all times. When they left, just a few days before us, there was a young lad camping nearby who had never seen one of these big RVs being manoeuvred in confined areas. He watched with his jaw swinging as Gayle briskly circled the Bus, checking on overhanging branches, fences and potential ground hazards, keeping up a commentary into her walkie-talkie as she did so, so that Keith had an extra pair of eyes in any spots he couldn't check in the mirrors. 'Star Ship Enterprise is leaving!' exclaimed the amazed young man, as he folded his tiny one-person alpine tent into the saddle bag of his bicycle. 'How the other half live!'.
And that's what we like about Orgiva - there's a place for everyone!
Nuevos amigos
As well as the charming Keith and Gayle, we met lots of other lovely new people over the three months (and just a few International Plonkers too, inevitably!). These new friends included Kevin (a fine Geordie lad) and Veronica (his muy guapa Italian partner, who developed a deep and soulful love relationship with Chip, and constantly cradled him in her arms so they could gaze into each other's eyes!); Thea, a lovely Dutch woman who spoke a range of languages apparently perfectly, and who adopted what was possibly the world's most odd-looking, but friendliest, little dog; Linda and her beautiful canine, living and travelling in the smallest Peugot you can imagine; two lively couples Terry, Jenny, Richard and Kath (can't remember off-hand whether those are the right combinations, couple-wise, so apologies if our memories show us up and we've married off the wrong people!) whose side-by-side pitches were the hub of numerous raucous social occasions, with community barbeques and long boozy lunches that, Spanish style, lasted well into the evening; the lovely Spanish family whose boys, Demi and Carlos, befriended Soz; Alex and Sarah, the would-be members of the demolition gang (remember the last Bulletin?); Ange and Pete (inventor of the surely soon-to-be-best-selling Outdoor Coaster); Bernard, Patrice, Michel et Sylvianne, two older French couples whose little camping cars had no heating, but they hardily shook off the inconvenience of ice inside the windows during some of the crispest nights of the winter; there was Patrick, who'd stumbled across the site months before and decided to stay forever ... there were many others too, the list could go on.
Hello Again!
And then there were old friends who turned up - a brace of dear friends who were staying at nearby Cortijo Romero (where Jeni had originally met them a few years ago) and others at the Camping. Some not knowing whether we would be at Orgiva, like the delightful Betty and Drew, our Scottish friends from Peebles, whose accents always have Jeni reverting to her Mum's Ayrshire lilt. And there were others who came to harass us deliberately. Yes, fresh from broken-leg medical emergencies in Italy, Gill and Pete (aka Gitana Gill and Pikey Pedro) managed to track us down, despite our best endeavours to evade them.
They were the first 'full-timers' we really got to know before we took the plunge and sold up, and some of you may remember a long-running legal battle about the copyright of the term YUK and the patent of Lucky Pegs … Our friendship doesn't get any more sensible, but maybe that's the joy of it. This time we found ourselves giving them a few car-tours of the area while they were staying, boring them rigid throughout with our enthusing about the area and each jaunt ending up in silly games of 'Late Arrivals at the Ball' à la 'I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue' (for any of you Radio 4 aficionados). (Oh, okay, then just a few ... on a Spanish theme to give you the atmosphere ... 'Let's welcome Señor y Señora Balsa and their daughter Em Balsa!'; ' ... and here from that famous bullfighting family are Señor y Señora Ador and their son Mat Ador!'; 'Things are livening up now, as in come Señor y Señora Esta and their daughter Fi Esta ...!' ... oh, you get the drift, that's enough now, sorry! It did get much worse, too.)
Anyroadup, it was really good to spend some time with Gill and Pete in a purely social setting (usually we're visiting them when they're in their role as summer Forestry Commission campsite managers in yUK), and thank goodness Gill's broken leg had finally mended. Worryingly, they were heading off for Pete to do some skiing in the Pyrenees, which seemed to us to be tempting fate … but we subsequently heard that they got beaten back from that mission - by a blizzard! Hey ho.
More Visitors
As well as travelling friends, we had various members of the family come down to visit, which necessitated a few trips to and from Malaga airport. We felt we were becoming part of the furniture, since almost every time we went to the airport, we saw someone we knew (apart from the arrivees or departees that is!). On one occasion we met a couple we'd got to know at Torre del Mar, who were also awaiting the arrival of a relative, whilst another time we met Annie and Graham, the lovely friends of Mark and Becky who live near Iznajar and with whom we had had some good music-making sessions. They had been visiting family in yUK and were coming off the same flight from Gatwick as Jeni's sister Jane. We met them as we were excitedly awaiting our Jane's arrival - a little while later Jane emerged through Baggage Reclaim holding aloft a large sign 'Lupton - Emergency Supplies from Sainsbury's' - ! (Well, we were getting low on marmite and soya mince, and Dave was pining for some Shreddies!)
It was grand to see Jane again and happily her visit also overlapped with that of Wendy, Stewart and Junior Gorgeous Grand-daughter Hannah, who arrived a few days later, so it felt like a good get-together. Jane's extra days actually gave her some warm Andalucian sunshine, and she, Jeni and Chip did a few lovely walks through the river valley across to Tijola and up the back-way tracks into Orgiva. Sadly, a day and a half after the rest of the clan arrived so did the Spring rain - brought in on an unprecedented 'Ola de Frio' - cold wave. Argh!
Wet, wet, wet
We (and most of the locals) couldn't believe how much it rained during that week's visit … after so many weeks of good sunshine and warmth which we'd promised our visitors, the sky just chucked it down. Up on the high hills of course this meant lots of snow, but down in our valley it was wet, wet, wet. And pretty cold with it, so there was a lot of sitting around the wood-burning stove in the little flat which Wendy and Stewart were renting - Grandad and Hannah bonding with hours of silly-face games, drawing and suchlike, and Chip curled up, snoring, in front of the stove. And us telling them all how gorgeous the place is in the sunshine! At least they had the consolation of knowing it was much, much colder and snowier in England - that was the week of The Big Freeze which affected yUK and other parts of Europe so badly. But we were so disappointed for them, as we'd planned to take them out and about to see the sights and give them a chance to relax in some warmth.
Headless Chickens
We did hugely enjoy their visit, though, and still had lots of fun. We managed some pleasant communal meals at the flat, in Jane's little cabin on the Camping and at Star's. One of those definitely deserves a mention.
Dave had settled in for the afternoon and early evening with Wendy, Stewart and Hannah to watch a DVD, when there was a knock at the door of the cosy little flat. Opening the top part of the stable door, Dave was confronted by a very wet Jane with bulging carrier bag in hand and with an enormous posse of dogs behind her. 'Please can you chop the head off this chicken and pull out its guts?', she asked, holding the bag at arms length. She'd only walked the half kilometre from Star's to the flat with the dead chicken in the carrier bag - no wonder all the village dogs had decided to follow her! Jane and Jeni were preparing supper at Star's for later on and it turned out that, as is common when buying poultry in Spain, the bird was intact, if nakedly featherless. Jeni said she didn't mind cooking the thing for the 'dead' eaters amongst us, but had drawn the line at preparing it for the oven, and as Star wasn't due home until later, there was no-one around to do the decapitation! We'll draw a veil over Dave's activities in preparing the chicken, but needless to say, it was thoroughly enjoyed along with roast potatoes and fresh veg.
For your further delectation, we add that Jeni and Jane were having a vegetarian option, which that evening was what has come to be known as 'Three P Pot', an adaptation of a wonderful recipe of Star's. The main ingredients are pumpkin, prune and pinenuts, with tamari, loads of garlic and long, slow, gentle cooking being the keys to the exquisite flavours. It truly is delicious. Okay, it wouldn't be everyone's kettle of fish (or pot of prunes) - we realised this when we told Jerry, Jane and Jeni's usually gastronomically adventurous, fellow-vegetarian brother, of this unusual dish. He responded tersely by email, indicating that he would expect to be paid considerable sums of money before allowing such a concoction to pass his lips! Doesn't know what he's missing!
Sun and the Snowline
The day before Wendy, Stewart and Hannah departed for even colder climes we went down to the coast, to Almuñecar, where it was sunny and warm for their last day (hurrah). They treated us to lunch at a seaside restaurant and we had a good walk along the prom, revelling in the sun. We decided that our route back would be along the coast, taking a detour into Salobreña as Wendy was keen to see the Castille Arabe at the top of the hill. In our quest, we ended up ascending narrower and narrower cobbled lanes, which were not far off the vertical, in the old part of the town, tyres spinning and clutch whining at various points where we tried to turn sharp corners on impossible gradients, following the helpful signs to this historic building. Bizarrely we were behind a small truck with a mini-skip full of building materials in the back. At first we thought, 'If that can get through/up, so can we', but as the lanes become steeper we realised that its big-grip wheels and heavy duty engine were somewhat more suitable for the terrain than a Fiat Punto with four well-fed adults and a baby on board! Frustratingly we realised, as we admitted defeat and Dave slewed the car towards a one-way, downhill, let's-get-outa-here street, that we were only half a barrio below the castille. Rats! Next time we'll try and walk, or better still hire a dumper truck to get us up there! Very picturesque though, and it's amazing how steep the streets of Old Salobreña are!
After that we carried on along the coast road beyond Motril and took the small mountain road up behind Castell de Ferro. As we wound up this road, which is small and wiggly at the best of times, albeit very view-some, we could see were heading towards some Serious Weather at the top of the Sierra Contraviesa.
Wiggly wiggly up we go. Sleety rain starts. Sky mucho cloudio. Reach snowline - patchy snow in scrub on hillsides. Wiggly wiggly up we go some more, hairpin bends akimbo. Sleety rain gets more persistent, snow on hillside now thicker and edging the road. We encounter a large goat with monstrously pendulous udders. The goat is wandering confusedly in the road and stops to do a double, nay, triple take at the car. It looks lonely, but we see no accompanying herd or indeed goatherd, who might also be lonely without his goat. It staggers to the side of the road to let us pass, weighed down by the mass of its udders.
Wiggly wiggly up we go still further. We plunge into the dense cloud. It now becomes obvious that the snowplough has cleared the road earlier, and happily there's still a good wide track of snow-free tarmac between the roadside heaps. Visibility degenerates considerably as we wiggle further into the cloud. Think we must be at the top now after some 25 minutes of this, so very high are we, but lo! round another steep bend (this is first gear stuff) there's yet another peak. (Repeat several times.) Up we go some more. Snow-free tarmac in between roadside drifts narrows. Jeni wonders how icy it might be and thinks how good it would be to be in a more robust, winterised vehicle, but she don't like to confess that she's having multiple panic moments as she doesn't want to alarm our visitors. Hannah decides to get fractious around this point (and bear in mind Wendy and Stewart are crammed fairly uncomfortably in the back next to the baby seat).
Wiggly wiggly up we go a bit further still. Jeni's anal sphincter threatens spontaneous release of pressure, but she's chatting cheerily about the shame of not being able to enjoy the spectacular view, making jokes about deep-frozen ibex for supper and calling silly nothings over her shoulder to Hannah. She wonders if she's ever been in such a dense cloud before, so high up a mountain, in the snow, without snow-chains on the car tyres. She decides no, this is a first. And she thinks it would be good if it was a first and only experience of same. Even manly Manly Dave is looking Stern, Silent and Concentrating Hard on the driving. Sensing a bit of tension from He Who Has Had His Worry Gene Surgically Removed threatens to make Jeni's voice very, very squeaky and makes loss of control of both the bladder and the bowels a distinct possibility.
Finally, oh finally, however, we reach the crossroads with the Torvizcón-Albuñol road (the 'main' road - ha ha, not exactly a main main road as you might be able to imagine) across the top of the Contraviesa. We hit a clear patch where we can see stunning surroundings of pine trees and scrub covered in snow. However the snow-free channel in the road is rather narrower and the snow is at least half a metre deep on the verges. But we're at the top. We decide it's not the brightest idea to detour slightly and visit our lovely friend Meg in Alcazar on the way back down, as had been a possibility, (especially as it's now 6pm, Hannah is decidedly grumpy because she, quite rightly, wants her tea), so we continue back down towards Orgiva. Happily the snow thins as we wiggle back down and by the time we were another 10 minutes over the other side it was completely clear and the road, though a bit wet and slippery, was fine. Phew!
Would have been a great journey in good weather, we kept telling them!! All in all, a memorable day out ... !
The whole experience of their holiday week happily doesn't seem to have daunted Wendy, Stewart and Hannah as they have declared themselves intent on revisiting us when we are next in Orgiva. Only this time when the sun is out. Definitely!
So, with our visitors safely delivered to the airport at the appointed hours for their flights, we start to realise that it is really time to say our farewells at Orgiva, live up to our Rollingfruitbat name and hit the road again.
Of which, more very soon!
Be fruity to each other and hug someone you love today.
¡Hasta la proxima!
Abrazos fuertes,
Jeni y Dave
xxx
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