Another St Matthew's day remembered

This morning, drove into Malaga to celebrate the midweek Eucharist in honour of St Matthew the Apostle, thankful that the traffic was light. I opened the church and got everything ready, welcomed a couple of Spanish visitors as best I could in Spanish, and then waited for a congregation to arrive. just as I was due to start, Rosella came and saved me from disappointment, bless her.

This day is the 46th anniversary of the first time I presided at a celebration of the Eucharist at the Parish Communion in St Andrew's Penyrheol Caerphilly, where I served my first curacy. It's hard to recall that first occasion well. I think my father came along, not sure about my mother. Neither of them were really well at the time and within a couple of years, both would be dead. It was a normal parochial service, rather than a solemn celebration with all attention on cheering on a new priest. That was what I wanted, simply to take my place in the ranks of those who serve God's people as priests to their communities.

For me, beginning priestly ministry at a Parish Eucharist was 'special' enough as an expression of priesthood. Being given the trust of people, inside and outside the church, to help them find a voice for themselves in God's presence, in an era when others were  rejecting the church and distrusting its ministers, was a humbling privilege and responsibility. It still is. The older I get, the more I appreciate the privilege granted, in a world where the faith I represent occupies such an uncertain place in the guidance of humankind.

I went for another two hour walk this afternoon, eastwards this time, to Playa del Rubio, the far side of Benagalbón from Rincon. Conservation measures are in place on this stretch of beach to protect the unique plant life that grows at the point where the sand gives way to the footpath. Some sections are fenced off, and contain indigenous flowers and grasses. 

Notably along this beach, I saw half a dozen swallows and heard a flock of starlings whistling and chattering in a large tree. There are houses with gardens all along this stretch. More greenery means more insects for food, and additional bird species. I've seen fewer swallows and starlings in Rincon, as it's more built up along the shoreline the habitats are less varied. Gulls, sparrows, pigeons and parakeets, are the most frequently visible species, plus the pair of blackbirds in the garden below, this apartment.

   

Flamenco de noche

Another hot sunny day today, and a busy day at the office back in Cardiff, with the arrival of news confirming the next stage in our developing work. There were things for me to do here as well, a sermon to write, a document to prepare for the board meeting.  Where work is concerned, I'm still hindered by the limitations imposed on roaming network connection by Orange ES, despite promises made by BT back home. My workaround solutions don't always succeed, being very much depended on local phone network traffic.

Also, for reasons I don't understand , a Blackberry update a while back killed my Skype app, and when I needed it lately, it wasn't there. After a web search, I found the free app on Amazon web store, which I'd never used before. When I downloaded it, I got a message to say it was already installed, and was able to log into my account and use it, although with on Skype icon. I returned to AWS and was offered a Skype update and this restored the necessary icon. It's taken me ages to get around to doing this, but it's invaluable for staying in touch with home.

Something I am grateful for and that's the internet radio site and app 'rad.io', which works on Andriod and Blackberry. Is there a Windows app? I've not got around to checking yet. It sometimes stutters if the Blackberry network attachment is busy, but gets there eventually. It's been invaluable for following the twists and turns of Helen's trial on the Archers this week. And I understand there's an hour long edition in with the jury this Sunday night. Can it be true? It's certainly been attracting a lot of attention recently.

It was late when I finally took my daily paseo, walking along the coast path as far as Benagalbón. This stretch of beach has fewer hotels, fewer beach restaurants or chirungitos and many more private houses. At the point when I turned around to walk back, there was a restaurant with bar, hosting a flamenco guitarist and singer, and they were in the midst of a performance. I had to resist the impulse to enter an spend an hour or so listening, as I knew I needed sleep before an early start to get to Fuengirola to take the funeral.

There were few street lights in this locality, so the half moon shone  brightly and was reflected in the sea. The beach was shrouded in darkness, save for the tell-tale blue lights atop fishing rods along the shore. Some stars were visible, and on the horizon were the lights of a cruise liner, probably sailing up the coast from Málaga to Valencia overnight. The singer's powerful voice in lamentful nocturnal mood was audible for two hundred metres, as I walked away. Flamenco singing truly is the original european blues music. It was a delightful moment after a busy day of brain work. No fear of insomnia after a 5km walk before bed.

   

Benagalbón

The day I arrived, we missed the promised delivery of a reserve gas bottle by just a few minutes. another delivery attempt was supposed to happen today so I stayed in, to be sure not to miss it, rather than go for a walk. But, nobody came. Time was fully occupied however with a full morning's remote work on CBS affairs. For the moment this can on times be frustrating as my Blackberry refuses to share its internet connection with other devices when roaming, despite us having specifically requested this service. What was achievable two and a half years ago when I was in Fuengirola, is now frustratingly out of reach. But never mind, with patience there are always workarounds.

After lunch and siesta, I walked along the old Velez Road to Benagalbón, then back along the ex-railway track coast path. La Torre de Benagalbón was a settlement that took its name from its maritime watch tower, predating Rincon. The nineteenth century development of Rincon was so great that it overwhelmed La Torre and local government relocated to Rincon. Only a fifth on the population of the municipality now lives in La Torre de Benagalbón, and its coastal resort aspect is less well developed, a change noticeable at the arroyo acting as the boundary between the two. The townscape tells its own story.

On the way back to the apartment, I topped up the bus discount fare card provided, and checked the timetable. There's a coach into Malaga from the bottom of the street every 20 minutes from early till late. Now that I'm properly established here, I'm ready to start exploring Malaga on public transport and on foot.