At lunchtime today , I drove the chaplaincy car along the coast road in the Malaga direction to Torrox, the next resort along the coast from Nerja. At this time of year, before the major influx of holidaymakers, the roads and beaches are quiet and empty, something which I appreciated as I hunted for a nameless churrangito (snack bar) where I was to meet the bereaved family. This is much more the likely pattern than a home visit here, apparently.
The sand of the largely limestone seashore in this region is an interesting cement grey, due to the addition of black volcanic sand and pebbles into the mix at some time in ancient pre-history. From its appearance, you'd expect the foreshore to be as hard as a kerbstone, not soft mobile sand. Exposed cliff and road cuttings reveal ancient pebble strewn river beds compressed and twisted out of shape over time into a hard material whose character resembles concrete with added pebbles and boulders. This would be a bleak environment if it were not for the proliferation of mediterranean greenery in abundance.
It was good to sit and listen to a husband and three children speak fondly about the woman whose life we would be celebrating in tomorrow's funeral. There would be no eulogy, just a couple of musical items from the choir and the funeral liturgy which I could develop to fit the occasion. All in all this was familiar territory. The only unfamiliar thing will be discovering the Thanatorium (sounds like a sanatorium with a lisp), and liaising with the funeral directors to ensure an appropriate outcome.
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