Fallas Season!
Fallas Season ...
So here we go again. It’s silly season in Valencia Province! For those of you who haven’t been keeping up with me on this newsletter (and why not? Ed), every year we have the Fallas (pronounced Fiyas). This is another Spanish custom from way back when the carpenters used to burn off their excess offcuts of woods to make way for the new season of work. Then some bright spark (oh, that’s clever boss, bright spark! Ed) had the idea of using the wood to make frames which were the formers to build giant models of political figures around and then burn them!
Nowadays that has grown into a true spectacle, whereby every town creates genuinely huge models, and we’re talking up to three stories high here, of exquisite design and manufacture, suitable to be Disneyland displays, which are painstakingly built, then set up around the towns for several days for the public to admire. One of them is chosen as the best of show and on the final night, all of the others are set ablaze in the streets, ending with the inevitable humungous pyrotechnic display.
In addition to all of this, during the week of Fallas, children are issued with an endless supply of firecrackers and bangers and allowed to wander at will throwing them all over the place and generally making a complete nuisance of themselves. It is quite mind boggling! Health and Safety in general is in its infancy here in Spain and sporadic at best, but the use and misuse of pyrotechnics and fires is genuinely unbelievable.
Of course, the BIG one is in Valencia itself and is now world famous, where literally thousands of bangers are set off daily throughout the week in the main square of the old town. But every town has it’s daily “mascleta”, usually at 2pm. At that time an entire town comes to a standstill while a barrage of smoke and explosives fills the air, and the inhabitants walk around in the smoke in fancy dress and with ears whistling whilst mini brass bands often join in. It is utterly crazy, but hey, we’re used to that here!
One of the other “crazies” is the way that fires are set with gay abandon in the orange orchards to burn off the old trimmings, using diesel to get it all blazing nicely, and the fires are often then left with little thought of the resulting spread by wind and often resulting in large and scary fires catching the pines that proliferate this area. And just to really round it off, when fire warnings are put out, there are always fireworks going off for someone’s Birthday or celebration without a thought for the burning trail of rockets and suchlike.
But these are the Spanish ways. Tradition is all and everything and nothing shall stand in its way. Be that health and safety, global warming or even basic common sense! You may be banned from driving your ICE powered car through some cities now, but wood burning fires proliferate, fires blanket the orchards and the chemicals from pyrotechnics are exempt from inclusion.
To be fair, this winter has been unusually wet and heavy, nature has a way of balancing itself out after two very long and hot summers with no rain! Some Spanish villas are just not made to deal with protracted periods of inclement weather. The solid floors and walls radiate the cold, and it becomes very comforting to move into the ‘snug’ with a blazing log fire and watch daft programmes on’t telly! Actually, we’ve just finished rewatching those amazing series of some years ago, “Life On Mars” followed by “Ashes To Ashes.” Wonderful stuff! Great acting, great scripting and definitely memory arousing for those of us who lived through the eighties and early nineties. Great soundtrack with many half-forgotten songs, loads of big hair, smoky eye make-up and that’s just the blokes! Aaaah, Gene Genie and Bolli Knickers brought back many memories of days that were so uncomplicated compared to now. Politically incorrect and definitely not “woke,” but you know what? In so many ways, all the better for it. Yes, I agree that we would find that some of the extreme remarks would be uncomfortable for us now, but there’s no two ways about it, the various ‘offended’ brigades have definitely made free speech pretty much a thing of the past, and I can’t help but feel in many ways that’s been a restrictive and exaggerative action and not actually helped much and indeed we are beginning to pay a growing price that will bite us on the backside in time to come.
We have the kiddiwinkies over to stay this week. Well rather large to be termed thus now I guess, but we collected daughter dearest from Valencia airport this morning and return to collect number one son and spouse when they arrive. A long journey for them as they emigrated to Canada last summer, so it has been a dog legged flight from Vancouver via Seatle and Heathrow. Mama bear has been palpating with excitement at having her babies back under one roof for a few days. The villa looks like a new pin. Indeed, Wolfie and I have learned not to stand or sit still for more than a few seconds for fear of being attacked with the mop and bucket or a spray can of furniture polish! (ain’t that the truth! Ed) Even the lemon tree has straightened out its branches and the geraniums are putting in extra effort to look bright and welcoming. We apologise to our local inhabitants that the supermarket shelves are looking sadly empty, but number one son has a healthy appetite. And did you know that the internal measurement of a fridge freezer is purely advisory? You can get twice as much in there as the manufacturer says and still close the door!
And so dear friends, I leave you with the commiserations necessary after watching this years Six Nations Rugby and being pipped at the post into runner up position. We won’t mention by whom, but they do tend to set fire to tyres in the middle of the road when they are upset. ‘Nuff said! But at least the final England performance was the one we have been waiting all championship to see. Bloody great stuff! The fridge is now bare of Guiness until the World Cup (Rugby that is. The real World Cup ….. LOL!)
Tarra for now.
