Tales of the Lecrin Valley

A personal view of life in an andalusian village.

Ron, Marina and Carmen is Saleres' square

Ron, Marina and Carmen is Saleres' square

We met some friends on Sunday and went off into the hills above Albuñuelas in a thirty five year old Land Rover.  The Rover was as cantankerous as to be expected and we needed to get some oil before we could leave, but that done off we went along the old forestry road to the Carretera de las Cabras, or the Road of the Goats.  That tells you what sort of road it is.  It is incredibly scenic in the Foresty Commission, Mediterranean pines, cliffs and gullies with all sorts of birds, especially raptors, ranging from hawks to eagles, and the odd deer and mountain sheep.  We stopped at the old ranger’s station and couldn´t get the Rover re-started, but with a bit more oil, some water and a battery jumper it rattled into life.  We stopped for lunch in an old hunting lodge and had venison and wild boar, which the chef utterly destroyed.  Then off to the summit of the highest hill in the Commission where there is a fire-spotter’s tower.   The duty spotter invited us up into his cupola atop the tower and we had the most fantastic views from there as far as Granada in one direction and to the sea in another.  It was a bit chilly with a stiff wind, even in September, and I wouldn´t like to be there in mid-winter.  Then we headed back into the valley and had a drink in Albuñuelas before heading to the Salerosa for a bit of food.  It turned into a nice little gathering and one of the village women suddenly appeared with a pot full of chocolate and some deep-fried bread which had been dipped in egg, milk and cinnamon, which was delicious. There was, as usual a strange mixture of people in the Salerosa, five Spanish, Marina, a friend of Alejandra’s from the Dominican Republic, two Dutch, an Englishman (me), an Italian (Alejandra) and a Belgian (Thierry from Finca la Loma).  The bar is becoming a real cultural mix and as everyone speaks Spanish plus their own language it is invariably a good night out.  Antonio Three was there and stunned us all by stating with great conviction that John Wayne was a Catalan.  I know for a fact that he was as American as apple pie, that his real name was Marion Mitchell and he was born in Iowa, but if Antonio says he was Catalan, Catalan he  was.

Chocolate time in the Salerosa

Chocolate time in the Salerosa