¡Fuego!

I woke up and looked at my phone a minute before the alarm I'd set was due to sound. It's the second time that's happened. I collected Patricia at nine twenty and by half past we parked at the Parque Cementerio Santo Cristo de la Veracruz and already mourners were gathering. The crem has a large covered waiting area with seats and plants, several viewing rooms, and a chapel that will 140 at a guess. It was full. 

There was an order of service hymn sheet for people to join in, and my goodness they did, singing a couple of well known hymns and saying Amen to each prayer with gusto. That's an experience I've not had often in a crematorium service in the past thirty years. Most present were churchgoers or American Club members which meant that many knew each other well and were relaxed enough to express themselves at losing a good friend. 

I had emailed Rosella, who lives above Rincon, two hour's drive from here, and she came! A long standing friend of Lew's and American club member she was keen to make the effort. I missed her after the service, I suspect she went off to an American Club members' wake. The main body of English church members went to Rick's bar restaurant in the Marina. I joined them there for an hour, chatting with several people. The service was much appreciated. I was nervous about getting things right, but once I arrived there I was in my element, and able to give of my best. I was even able to make fair conversation in Spanish with the funeral guys, and be understood. Not that I will ever understand the bureaucracy involved!

After lunch I had a siesta. There was a very hot wind outside but with everything closed the house was relatively cool. About quarter to four I got up and started writing this blog. Then there was a series of loud percussive noises which sounded like a large volume of water being poured from a height. At ten two, I went downstairs to check and discovered the uncultivated hillside on the other side of the valley was on fire! What I was hearing was the sound of fire bursting out in new patches of vegetation. 

I called Patricia to find out the emergency number for the bomberos, but as we spoke the sound of sirens could be heard. The scorching west wind blew down the valley, but the fire went up it, against the wind incinerating about a square kilometre of grass and shrub, right up to the line of the houses on the top of the neighbouring hill. People poured out of their houses, took pictures, talked among themselves, then returned indoors. It was far too hot to stay outside for more than ten minutes. The last hour has been punctuated with the wailing of sirens.

The uphill lane of the autovia was closed off as the flames reached the top of the arroyo valley which it crosses. Then about half past five, a procession of helicopters started arriving with water buckets aiming for critical points in the fire path, augmenting the work of the ground based fire crews. Clouds of white, grey and black smoke rise up from different places along the hillside, but notably in the depth of the valley where the arroyo banks are populated with cane - probably sugar cane given the hint of sweetness on the breeze. Estepona bay was once an area of sugar cane plantations, cane grows wild here and may have been here before industrialisation.

The fire continues to blaze over the other side of the hill from here, behind the Policia Local compound and the urbanizacion beyond it. Patricia called to tell me. It's near where she lives. The prevailing wind has taken the fire away from where I'm staying for now. It'll be 32C tomorrow, but what about the wind?

By a quarter to seven the autovia's uphill lane had re-opened, and the symphony of emergency sirens was drawing to its end, the helicopters had watered the side of the road at the top of the hill where fire was still spreading. Over the brow of the hill is an industrial estate, and the huge Lidl I visited the other day on foot. The fire will not have gone close to the supermarket, but I'm not sure about some  warehouses. There has been a lot of thick black smoke along the brow of the hill. The fire has travelled the other side, and that's now where the helicopters are flying with the precious watery load. It's almost as quiet as usual, after three intense hours of watching and wondering. Which way will the fire go next time?

After a snack supper, it had cooled down enough to venture down the hill and take a few more photos of the scorched landscape. The bomberos were still working dampening down hotspots, taking a chainsaw to some remaining cane verges along the edge of the arroyo that has the un-made road, making a wider fire gap to protect this side of the valley. The fire ground is still cordoned off, including the housing area to which the fire came nearest, from where people had to be evacuated. Diario Sur Estepona reports that 600 people are being re-housed overnight for safety's sake at the Estepona's Palacio de Congresos. The thick black smoke at the brow of the hill was from a commercial storage yard for non-leisure specialised boats. I hope they're insured, or else that's several people's livelihood down the pan.

To get the burning smell from my nostrils, I took a walk along the sender litoral. The hot wind emptied the beach of people and made wavelets along an empty shore. Too hot and windy for paseo y charlar tonight. Helicopters still circulating, keeping the area under observation. The wind dying down could just change direction and fan up hidden embers for a re-match with the bomberos. 

It's been an exceptional experience, this afternoon, witnessing the teamwork between fire crews on the ground and in the air. What a day altogether, in fact.