March 12, 1999
Calle Conde de Barajas, Seville
Las Fresas
On a leisurely drive through the plains west of Seville towards Huelva,
we stumble upon a berry lover's Eden. Field after field is covered with row upon row of
knee high plastic canopies. We ask ourselves what could possibly merit this sort of
specialized attention. The crop underneath is hidden from view. Upon closer examination we
see mounds of dirt, and thousands of strawberry plants. Near Huelva, the fields have been
transformed into micro-greenhouses. The result is an enormous crop of apricot-sized
Huelvan Fresa.
These surprisingly sweet gargantuans not only take over whole aisles in
the grocery stores, but they continue to disrupt European Union agricultural negotiations.
You see, Huelvan strawberry farming with its heat concentrating shield proceeds any other
nations strawberry production by many months. On top of it all, the berries are harvested
with proportionately less expensive labour and are no longer tariffed under the Economic
Union policy. This has created a super-sized, super cheap fruit that satiates Europeans'
sweet, red needs before their local farmers get their first buds.
This Huelva phenomena is not without its copycats in other parts of
Andalucia. An equivalent to the North American Gold Rush started 20 years ago in the
eastern province of Almeria. The gold in this fever was sunshine. At the end of Franco's
dictatorship, thousands of would-be farmers flocked to the arid, economically defunct area
and covered the hills with ribbons of plastic wrap. Some made millions and others lost
everything trying to penetrate the world's produce market while learning how to grow a
completely foreign crop. Today, small towns that once were lucky to have a donkey at their
disposal now contain monster mansions built with the spoils of strawberries.
If you are lucky enough to be in Andalusia in the springtime, visit the produce market,
and bring a little ice cream.
