Wednesday 6 November 2013

Sociable mid-week at St Andrew's

An early start this morning, as Jim and I had arranged to meet for Matins at eight thirty in St Andrews. A few people were already working behind us in the hall preparing to open the Chaplaincy's weekly charity shop, which followed on from the nine thirty 1662 BCP Eucharist for all the Saints of Britain, at which I gave an ad lib homily. OK, I cheated. It's meant to be All Saints and Martyrs of England. The observance for Wales is on the octave but today in the Welsh Calendar is St Illtyd, one of our Glamorganshire Church Fathers. 

There were fifteen of us for the service and a few outside, continuing preparations for opening time. A dozen or so others, visitors and regulars, came and went, drank coffee, brought stuff or bought it, and caught up with friends if they'd been away. It was a gently convivial occasion which I thoroughly enjoyed. It ended with a nice cool beer al fresco in a restaurant a couple of blocks away with Jim and Della, and Father Peter Ford OGS, who has retired here. Like me, he does locum duties in a variety of places in the diocese in Europe. 

As we sat there under the toldo, several people came past and greeted those assembled. It's obviously a good place to hang out. Father Peter said that in another Chaplaincy he was looking after, he found the most frequented hostelry to hang out in, then advertised it as a place people could meet with him.

On the way back to church, I bought some fruit and veg in the Mercado de la Virgen, then after a chat with church administrator Linda, I walked down to Fuengirola Port, a couple of kilometres away in the beautiful warmth of the afternoon sun, taking photos as I went, and uploaded them in the office on return. Slowly but surely, I'm getting acquainted with the area. 

Down at the port there's a modern retail and restaurant area, designed in mock-Moorish style, in homage to Andalusia's past. It has some small domes and minarets for atmospheric decoration - a bit of a mockery of a great architectural style to my mind.
There were several West African street traders about plying their wares cheerfully to restaurant clients. One was a tall woman in a trouser suit, her head bound with a turban, and on top of the turban balanced a small tray full of the ornaments she was selling. I was unable to get close enough for a photo, but I did get one of a man with a fantastic punk hairstyle. And then I saw another. Such a distinctive way of marketing oneself as a street vendor!

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