The traditional Spanish holiday month of August is over. Will life return to normal in Nerja. It certainly seems to be quieter. Maybe we will even get a parking spot on Burriana now. As we say farewell to the Summer, but not the heat, I have posted a couple of my favourite parking moments of the Summer on Burriana.
Beach all day?
This driver mistakenly thought that nobody would park in front of the building site. Thought wrong pall, just the coaches from Granada. Going to be along wait before you'll be able to drive off.
Room for a small one.
Just to prove that you don't need a smart car for city living and easy parking. 4x4 mount pavement, jobs a good 'un!
With my back feeling better we decided to return to Río Chillar to see if we could finish off the walk. The guidebook stated it was a 6-hour walk. A perfect way to get back into the swing of things!
We decided on an early start. Well, 10:30am is early for us. I must still have been asleep as disaster struck not 5 minutes away from the car. Monica had brought her hunting knife in order to cut two walking sticks out of bamboo for the walk upstream. The knife was not the sharpest, and neither was I when I decided to cut towards myself. I nearly sliced my thumb off.
Blood gushing everywhere and we had no plasters or bandages. All we had was a pack of tissues that soon were soaked in blood. We turned back for the car, intending to head for the pharmacy. Maybe I’ll get to see the Manchester derby after all. But no, we bumped into a Spanish family who had packed next to us. They had a pack of plasters so with me patched up, we continued with the walk.
With bandaged thumb.
The bamboo walking sticks turned out to be a good idea. The river was flowing faster than the previous time. We were quite impressed with the tempo we set off at. We were passing people for fun. Must be fitter than we thought. It took us Nearly 2.5 hours to reach the point where we turned back before, Now for the new bit.
Just passed the first waterfall is another pool with a waterfall and what looks like the end of the trail. However a blue paint spot on the right-hand side indicated the trail. You keep following the blue way markers until you eventually rejoin the river. About 30 minutes upstream you come to two staggered turnings indicated by way markers. The first is to the left and is the Limán trail to Frigiliana. The one we took is on the right and is indicated by a wooden post and red way markers.
The second pool.
This takes you on a steady climb to the acequia. The guidebook warns of a walk on a narrow concrete wall and places where there is a strong risk of vertigo. We arrived at the acequia on the right and decided to go for it.
The start of the acequia.
Slight vertigo risk.
The acequia isn’t that bad and there is fencing on part of the way, which is in a good state of repair. There are a few points where the vertical drop was a bit steep but I never felt in danger. The things to be wary of are the concrete slabs that cover over the acequia. Don’t trust them and stick to the narrow wall. Also, don’t be startled by the appearance of lizards in your pathway, or snakes! A good tip from Monica: "If you’re going to fall, fall to the left into the acequia". Trust me, you don’t want to fall right.
Monica on the Acequia.
A narrow bit of the Acequia!
The acequia seems to stretch for miles. There are fantastic scenic views of the hills and towards the end you have a great view of Frigiliana. The end is where the acequia widens and you arrive at a turbine pipe that goes down the hill to the power station. Danger over, or so the guidebook leads you to believe.
Scenic views.
Frigiliana.
From here you descend sown to the power station. My god it is a steep, dirt trail that is treacherous. Never again! A few places I lost my footing and ended up on my backside sliding down the hill several metres before I hit a tree. After a long walk and in the heat, this descent is not what you need. So, a few more scrapes and bruises and another walk ending with us cursing the name of the guidebook author. Still, it was worth it.
My first Spanish football game! A "friendly" game at the Nerja Athletic stadium between Málaga and UD Almeria, recently promoted to La Liga. In Spanish they use the same word "Amistad" meaning friendly. However, there was no love lost between these two teams.
The Athletic Stadium.
I met Antonio, who had taught me Spanish at Quorum (must go back for more lessons!) at the entrance and went to sit with him and his two boys. He is part of the Frigiliana fan club for Málaga, or "La Peña" in Spanish. He proudly unfurled his banner over the terraces. His two young boys more interested in playing with their toys than anything happening on the pitch. Both first teams will be playing. Good stuff.
Antonio’s banner.
The game started and the first thing that struck me was it was men against boys. The Almeria team must all be six foot plus. Surely they don’t kick their way out of the lower leagues to play in the premier division? The evidence pointed to it, although to be fair they were comfortable on the ball, even on this uneven cabbage patch field more suited to the hammer throw and javelin it was designed for.
The teams line up ready for battle.
Málaga’s back line looked a bit shaky. The first bad challenge of the game came when a Málaga play lunged in and took out an Almeria player who was about to dart down the left wing. Chaos ensued. At least 10 players involved in a fracas which included the Almeria Goalkeeper who sprinted a full 60 metres to get in on the action. The ref just booked a player from each side and the game continued. Simmering away nicely, ready to boil over any minute.
Against the run of play, the Almeria defence were caught by a quick break away. I’m sure the Málaga player was at least a yard offside but the linesman kept his flag down. 1-0 Málaga. A few minutes later, a lovely move from Málaga was rewarded by a second goal. Excellent stuff. Half time 2-0 to the good.
The Málaga president, Fernando Sanz, signing autographs.
The second half started with 3 Almeria substitutes entering the game. Not long in and another bit of fisticuffs produced another flurry of cards. Almeria broke and the ref awarded a dubious free kick 25 yards out from the Málaga goal. A Málaga player wisely stood over the ball to prevent a quick free kick. The ref moved him away indicating he was counting 10 yards. No sooner had the player retreated a few steps and Almeria had taken it. A quick pass and bang, goal. Málaga were furious. They surrounded the ref. He reacted by brandishing the yellow card to at least 5 Málaga players. One of them had been booked minutes before so he was off.
It didn’t take long for Almeria to make their numerical advantage tell. In the end they ran out 3-2 winners. End of the game and the players were still at each others throats as they walked off the pitch. 5 Goals, 1 sending off, 5 punch ups and a dodgy ref. Welcome to Spanish football.
Due to still having a niggling back injury, we decided against one of our usual walks and went to Marina de Este to see the marina and beach there. Francois from Copacabana had recommended the place as worth a visit. It is just passed La Herradura on the road heading to Almuñecar.
Puerto de punta de la mona
Driving down to the port gives you wonderful views back across the bay of La Herradura. Seeing the sign for the port gave Monica a laugh. The port is called "Puerto de punta de la mona". I think "La mona" has a different meaning in Spanish to the equivalent in Italian that tickled Monica so much.
The marina is quiet small with a few nice ports there. The surrounding bars seemed quite nice, if a bit expensive but you always get that on a marina. The views of the hills made it quiet an attractive port. Except on the eastern side where a beautiful villa looks like it is soon going to be surrounded by another massive concrete urbanisation.
The Marina.
We had a quick stay on the beach that was packed. I know not to expect golden sandy beaches in these parts but this beach was more stone than grit. The sea is very inviting and you can walk out quiet far before your feet cannot touch the floor. The beach was packed and so was the only chiringuito on the beach.
Nice views.
Going back to the marina for an aperitif was also a bit disappointing. We sat down at a table of a bar that was moderately busy. It was right on the harbour side. We waited for service, and waited. Ten minutes later still no sign of them coming to us. Monica had enough and decided to go to the bar herself. But to no avail. She stood there for 5 minutes, the staff continuing to ignore her. Marina de Este is not for us. Back to Burriana to civilisation.
A veces las cosas se tuercen te digo por cierto y te encuentras frente a ese desierto abierto con el hielo mudo y el coraje lento tan viejo como el mismo mundo el cariño y el despecho, el camino se hae andando, si pero un desierto es un desierto.
ya sé por qué le ganó a nuestro labio el silencio, y es que el reloj no tiene el tiempo no tiene el miedo el caso es que no conseguimos aislarnos del resto de este mundo donde los humanos, cambian los sueños por aire dame alguna excusa que nos salve o que nos traguen siete mares pero no me quites el coraje.
Enseñame tus manos abre las palmas que las veas y ahora, dime si aun te queda un poco de esperanza en ellas enseñame tus manos, esas, con las que nos acariciamos y hoy nos hacemos, tanto daño, tanto daño amor.
tal vez por qué para ti solo soy un cero a la izquierda y no hay manera de que multiplique mi cariño por tus ganas, y nos den mas que cero
ya se por qué le ganó a nuestro labio el silencio, y es que el reloj no tiene el tiempo, no tiene el miedo, no tiene el fuego... no te preocupes, que hoy es domingo y Dios descansa disfrutemos del momento y de este sitio que nos regala.
Dame alguna excusa que nos salve o qye nos traguen siete mares pero no mequites el coraje
Enseñame tus manos abre las palmas que las veas y ahora, dime si aun te queda un poco de esperanza en ellas enseñame tus manos, esas, con las que nos acariciamos y hoy nos hacemos, tanto daño.
Enseñame tus manos... que las mias se han cansado de intentar coger el mundo con los puños apretados... enseñame tus manos, esas, con las que nos acariciamos y hoy nos hacemos, tanto daño
It was a night of firsts for both myself and Monica. Our first visit to the "Rosaleda" stadium in Málaga. I had always assumed that this would be to see Málaga CF in action but no. It was to be another first, our first stadium concert in Spain. Alejandro Sanz had brought his "El Tren de los momentos" world tour to Málaga.
Alejandro is my favourite Latin artist, having most of his albums on my Ipod. The only other open air concerts I have been to where all in Manchester. U2 & Coldplay, and guess what? The weather was a bit iffy. It lashed it down both times! No such worries for Málaga in August. We arrived outside the stadium at around 9pm with the temperature at 30C.
So no worries about sitting in the rain. Would the parking be a problem (as is the norm in Manchester where you can't get near the ground without paying a fortune in car parking fees)? Not for the Spanish it seems. On the over side of the river from the stadium, a long stretch of wasteland had been converted into a car park. No traffic wardens, no man with luminous vest demanding payment, wonderful.
Parking no problem!
Outside the stadium and already there was a steady stream of people going in. We had decided to take a seat rather than stand on the pitch as before. Not that we were worried about the surge to the front like at U2, or the constant barrage of plastic beer pots full of urine flying over head. We didn't fancy standing up for over 3 hours in the heat. After walking around the stadium for ages we finally found our way to the top tier and sat down.
Inside "La Rosaleda".
There was no support act for this concert. The ticket stated that the show was to start at 10:30pm. So closer to 11pm then. Except this train was not late. 5 Minutes before the start the stadium lights went out. Great excitement amongst the crowd. The sound effects kicked in, a train in the distance getting closer. Then an announcement: "Señoras y señores, en breves momentos el tren de los momentos llegará a su parada". 10:30pm on the dot and there he was "El tren de los momentos llega a Málaga" he shouted and then kicked off the show with the title song.
Waiting for the train.
Alejandro sounds fantastic live. The atmosphere in the stadium, some 15,000 fans, was great. Applause not just at the end of each song but also during them. The young girls screaming "Alejandro" in a football chant style. He responded to shouts of "Guapo!" with "Málaga, tú si que eres guapa. Esta noche va a ser muy especial, va a ser nuestro viaje al tren de los momentos. Gracias por venir."
En vivo.
As expected, he sand many songs from his latest album such as 'En la planta de tus pies', 'A la primera persona', 'Enséñame tus manos' (one of my favorites) and 'La peleíta' (one of Monica's favourites). As the night went on it was becoming clear what the encore would be. He hadn't sang my two favourites yet! Having said good night and walking off stage the cries of "Otra, Otra" were answered. Alejandro on stage alone at the piano. A solo performance of '¿Lo ves?'. Beautiful. He didn't let me down as he followed up with 'Te lo agradezco, pero no' (alas with no Shakira!) , and finished with 'No es lo mismo'.
So after 2 hours he said his final goodbye, Málaga CF shirt wrapped around his shoulders. Huge applause and shouting around the stadium. The time flew by and all that was left was to fight our way out of the city. Not a problem. We were on the motorway heading back to Nerja within 10 minutes. Stadium concerts in Manchester, never again! Málaga, yes please!
This BBC Mundo "¿Hablas Espanol?" special blog deals with "Pochos". A "Pocho" being a slang term used to describe someone of Mexican descent that was born in America. "Pochos" normally speak little or no Spanish. A large group of people who fit the "pocho" tag can be found in San Antonio.
As far as the translating the article, 15 "red" words out of an article of 663 words. The common theme appears to be that I am trying to translate "word for word" again.
"Tal Vez", literally translated as "Such Time", meaning the more familiar "Perhaps". "Hace poco", literally "It makes little", meaning "Recently". "A lo mejor", "To it better", meaning "Perhaps".
Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps! Seems that there are a few ways to express this simple word. "Quizás" also means "Perhaps". So at least three ways to express "perhaps"! This is where I would normally revert back to type and mutter something like "no wonder I can't learn Spanish!" or "It's too complicated". Take a deep breath and think about it. How else can you express "perhaps" in English? Maybe there is another word. Bingo! Maybe. Possibly. Probably. I suppose so.
Perhaps in time I will also stop making stupid mistakes like seeing various forms of the verb "cerrar" and thinking "Open" instead of "Closed". Maybe. Also, it would be nice to give a bit more thought over a strange word based on the context, rather than go straight to the dictionary. "palpitando", no idea what it means lets look it up. In context "El corazón palpitando". Come on Dino! The beating heart. Not rocket science is it.
As part of my "multi-track" learning of the Spanish language, reading is an essential part. So I have found the Los Blogs de BBC Mundo to be very useful. In particular, I have been reading with interest a particular series of blogs written by José Baig. He is currently touring 8 states of the US and asking people he meets on the way one simple question. “¿Hablas español?”
So the exercise I undertake is to translate the blog into English. Firstly, without the aid of a dictionary. If I don't know the meaning of a word or phrase then I will try to guess based on the context of the paragraph. If I am completely stumped I just enter "xxx" and carry on.
The next stage is to then translate the whole paragraph using "Altavista" . This is by no means an exact science and cannot be relied on. However, I normally have an idea of what the paragraph is about and can tell if the translation is OK or not.
Finally, any suspect words from the translation I will look up in the WordReference.com website. Without a doubt the single best learning tool I have at my disposal. The dictionary section usually gives you a number of different translations, along with any combinations with other words to give a new phrase. For example the word "Vez", meaning "time", usually in the context of "una vez" meaning "one time" or more commonly "Once". But the dictionary also gives you the phrase "en vez de", literally "In time of", which means "instead of".
By comparing my original translations, or guesses, to what I subsequently learn, I use a colour code to highlight my errors. "Red" indicates that I don't know the word at all and could not understand the sentence. "Yellow" is where I know the meaning of the words but was still made a mistake in translation. This is a common fault of mine where I mistake who is doing what to whom. For example "me comentaba.." I would read as "I comented" when in fact it is "he/she commented to me". "Green" indicates that I may not know the word but was able to guess it or understand the sentence anyway.
This colour coding gives me a measure of how well (or bad) I am doing. Surprisingly, I seem to be doing quite well with these blogs!
Sunday Morning and Roberto was feeling better. My shoulder was feeling a bit sore but I thought the painkillers and a bit of rest would be enough. Today would see us go to the nearby pueblo of Cómpeta.
Cómpeta is some 10 kilometres away from Torrox pueblo but feels a whole lot further away. The mountain road you go on as so many twists and turns it takes ages to get there. Finally you arrive at a nice viewing point where it seems its customary for everyone to stop and take a look at the village.
Cómpeta.
We parked in a small square that appeared to be set-up for a fiesta. A number of tarpaulin sheets were tied above the streets to give a bit of shade to the square. However, not a soul was to be seen. We walked through the narrow streets to head for the town centre. The pavement looks to have been recently laid and blends in well with the houses. A charming, Spanish feel to the place. All the street names were in decorative ceramic signs that added to the charm.
The streets of Cómpeta.
We soon stumbled upon the main square where the church was. Signs of life at last. Many people were sat outside the few bars that occupy the square. A quick look at the statue in front of the church and we decided it was time to join them for tapas.
The church in the square.
Statues in front of the church.
A quick walk around town and then back to the car. It was too hot to explore any further. Which was lucky for me as the pain in my shoulder was getting worse despite having downed two bottles of San Miguel in an attempt to numb the pain.
Tapas in the Square.
Back at the house and I decided to have a lie down for a siesta. Big mistake! A few hours later and I couldn't move. I was in agony. Finally, Monica came up to see what had happened to me and found me face down on the bed. Any attempt at standing sent shocks of pain through my body. Eventually I was helped to my feet and it was off to the Urgencias.
The urgencias was quite busy but I was still seen to within 20 minutes of arrival. At Tameside it would have been nearer 2 hours, if I was lucky. Monica acted as interpreter and the doctor examined my shoulder. Apparently I needed to rest it for 3 days and no exercise for at least a week. She gave me a few pills to take at night to help me sleep and went out of the room. "What's happening" I asked Monica. Now the correct response would have been "She has gone to get you something for the pain". Instead, she said "She's going to get the needle to give you an injection for the pain". Needles? Injection? I should have gone in on my own!
After an age the nurse returned with the injection. Not in the shoulder where the pain was. It had to be in on the backside. The car ride here was bad enough having to bend my head to get in the car. Now I would have double the discomfort on the way home. I think Monica misunderstood me as she agreed that I was a pain in the ass.
The end of the Cipolata holiday grew near. The end of Antonella's culinary delights, such as the tomato's stuffed with meat and other goodies and not forgetting the fantastic home-made tiramisu. We thought we would have a relaxing Saturday morning on the beach whilst Monica was at work.
I decided to show my footballing skills off to Andrea as we had a game of head tennis on the volleyball court. Well, I showed him that I had a 50p head as I kept heading the ball 10 feet in the wrong direction every time. Still, we were determined to break 10. Before I collapsed from exhaustion, we managed a spectacular 11 times. I felt that it deserved a lap of honour in true Italian style (shirt over the head like Ravenelli). Disaster! the pain in my shoulder re-appeared with a vengeance.
Better late than never? Hardly!
As I was recovering on the beach, Roberto decided he could go one better. He decided to go off for a swim. No sooner had he dived in a swam a fair distance out, a "socorrista" appeared and hammered a warning notice into the beach. Beware of Jellyfish! Too late for Roberto as he was stung on the neck. After receiving treatment at the emergency hut on the beach the sting mark appeared to get worse as was the pain so off we went to the chemist for some stronger painkillers.
Roberto after the attack.
Not too many venturing in to the sea.
We spent the afternoon at the 10 pin bowling centre at Velez-Malaga. I was still feeling a bit of pain in my shoulder but it seemed to ease when I moved it. 3 games later and everyone had managed to get a least one strike. I won two games so was crowned champion bowler! The sweet taste of victory was to turn sour though the following morning....
