RICH'S NOTES-PARENTAL TOURISMApril 30, 1999
Huerta Santa Maria, Near Galaroza
Around The Sierra
Santa Maria is perfect for rainy days. It’s a retreat – a place for reading
and writing and painting, but I want my parents to get a feeling for this corner of Spain.
We get the weather report from the local paper and pick today as the best to take a little
drive through the villages. I’ve got the map, dad’s got an emergency business
periodical and my mom packs a few extra bottles of water. We head for the smaller roads
that weave their way through the hills.
Driving through the nut orchards of the Sierra de Aracena and the season has changed.
The trees are leafy and their flowers are fading to seed. Pata Negra spoon in clumps of
six, like dusty black bananas, snoring and oblivious to my mother’s best pig call
from Nova Scotia's Annapolis Valley.
There’s a screaming ass and his younger donkey companion and they have a taste for
Sara’s corn nuts. Horses, hobbled, tied, free and grazing, watch us from the steep
grazing lands. Toros, munching and moaning, collect under the almonds and the hazelnuts,
free before they are tested for bravery and sent to the bullring.
The dark clouds drive themselves into mountains continually changing our vista. We are
the only ones on this road today. I am reminded of Ireland - wet and windy.
The Fortalezas (fortress) de Cumbres Mayores is part of a series of
defensive castles put up or rebuilt in the 13th century by the Castillians as
they mistrusted their Portuguese neighbours. From where the structure stands, one can see
across the Rio Murtiga river valley and into Portugal. Today, only the external walls
remain of the fortress and the interior is used as a soccer field. Currently the walls are
under restoration and an entrance fee is only charged when there is a soccer match on. But
I've heard this is waved if you are only there to view the fortifications.
We pick up Javier and head for comidas (lunch) at Linares de la Sierra. The
cliff edge backroad from Fuenteheridos provides the best view of the Sierra de Aracena. We
wind among the polled oaks and the corks, and make the steep decent down to the village of
Linares. It’s a town of 200 inhabitants, with black and white stone patterned stoops,
medieval doors and alleyways, and the central plaza that converts to the bullring when
needed. One side, under a mature olive, provides shade, and for those who want it, the balcon
del sol faces west. We enter El Arriero (the porter), a dark doorway that opens
to a walled rose garden and patio. Javier has brought us here for the Sierra specialties
of course, but also for a delectable vegetable "cake" for Sara.
The discourse is a patchwork of English, Spanish and French with Sara and myself
translating. I translate the menu and order on behalf of my parents – solomillo, and
presa, the sweet, ribboned pork steak of this region. Our gluttonous comidas is
finished with custard and chocolate-covered figs.
Javier gulps his wine and ducks from the dining room to the front bar to have a smoke.
My father follows him for a chance to check out the building and take in a few puffs.
Dick has not returned for some time. The three of us exchange glances and wonder what
he is up to in the room full of Spaniards. What could he and Javier possibly be talking
about? Rounding the corner, we find Dick and Javier sharing a cigarillo.
"Monte Cristo, muy bien." Javier’s got this mellow look on
his face as he rolls and eyes the tiny stick of tobacco. They’re sharing a local
liqueur brought to them as a treat by the proprietor. My father asks questions in English
and points. Javier understands the gestures and answers with yes and no. Through drink and
smoke, it seems there is no longer a communication barrier.
