At last, a MRI appointment booking

It was slightly warmer overnight and a few degrees warmer all round, comfortably so at 22C and I slept long and well. Late last night, a message from Clare to say that an appointment letter for my MRI scan for the 15th June at 8.00am had arrived! It's such a relief having had no success in raising a response from the bookings department when I was home. A calming contribution to a reason for a better night's sleep!

We had breakfast, Owain went for a swim in the garden pool and took the rubbish down the the bins, while I printed tomorrows pew sheets and sermon. Then we drove to Frigiliana for a walk around, photo opportunities and lunch at 'La Bodeguilla'. Where else? It's the third time with different guests during my stay this time. So consistently good. We shared a mixed salad, patatas a lo pobre and a racion of savoury stewed pork. Owain reckoned it must have taken many hours to cook to such perfection. 

Owain had arranged to meet his friend Jenny and her family at Burriana beach, so after our return, I drove him there. Easier than explaining how to get there with public transport! I called in Aldi's on the way back for wine and fruit, and then had a few hours of evening time to myself, to realign myself to celebrating and preaching tomorrow, after forgetting about work for a few days. And there was the Corpus Christi Prayer video to complete as well.

I called Clare for a chat, then cooked myself some veggies with chickpeas for supper. With time on my hands I looked ahead a couple of weeks at what I needed to prepare for Thursday Morning Prayer. This gave me an idea for a reflection, which I wrote, recorded and edited, before Owain returned late from his outing and supper with Jenny and family. We chatted until late before surrendering to sleep

Another lunch in Frigiliana

After a longer night's sleep I woke up refreshed to bright sunshine, and we were able to have breakfast on the balcony again. Then we set out for Frigiliana, visiting a gas station on the way to refuel and be sure of enough for the run to the airport and back tomorrow when I take Ann for her flight to Stanstead. I've used thirty litres in three weeks I've been here, but no idea of my actual mileage as I didn't make a note of it.

I dropped off the girls at the Frigiliana main coach stop and parked at the roadside about 400 metres up the bypass road where there's no charge. Then we walked slowly along the main street as far as the Plaza de la Iglesia where we had a drink in El Conventillo cafe restaurant, with tables in the square. As the name suggests, the building was once used to house a group of religious sisters who assisted in parish pastoral care. The village church of San Antonio de Padua, sits above the square. It dates from 1676 and is typical of the regional architecture of this period. It's located on the edge of the oldest part of the moorish quarter, with all its wonderful steep side streets, and glimpses of the landscape across the valley below.

We had lunch at the restaurant La Bodeguilla where I took Kath during her visit, then browsed in the small shops along the main street on our way back to the car. I stopped to browse in a prominent Bodega and bought a bottle of locally made Dry Muscat wine - 15% alcohol, not fortified, tasting as as strong as if it was, as much of vine stems as the grape itself. Interesting. We called into Aldi's on the home run for bananas, olives, crisps and ordinary white table wine!

The girls had a swim when we got back and I drafted a Reflection for Morning Prayer on Ascension Day. Then I cooked pasta with chick peas in a veggie sauce for supper. Afterwards I went for a walk as far as I could uphill to complete my daily quota, as the sun was setting. On one of the high ridges a car was parked which had a roof rack tent on top, accessed by a ladder, an unusual piece of kit. I just can't imagine sleeping on a car roof, 350 metres above sea level on an exposed ridge. Imagine what would happen in a strong wind!

Lunch in Frigliana

A little warmer again today, a cloudless sky, no wind, the sea like a millpond. Kath had a swim in the pool after breakfast, and I started thinking about next Sunday's sermon. I dived into my archive to find out what I preached about on Easter 4, Good Shepherd Sunday on previous occasions in the triennial reading cycle. I found that on 2015 it was the first Sunday after arriving here in Nerja for my third locum visit. Summer 2016 I was back here again, for a fourth stay cut short by the imminent arrival of Fr Nigel as their new Chaplain. Instead of returning home, I went north by train to Vinaros for a month with the Costa Azahar chaplaincy, vacant due to the unexpected departure of its chaplain. This makes my fifth tour of duty here in Nerja. Somehow, looking back eight years ago through my blog, I didn't get started on a sermon. 

When Kath was ready we drove to Frigiliana, parked on the village by-pass road and walked from there. It was Kath's first experience of this magnificent Pueblo Blanco which celebrates its long history and its associations with Muslim Jewish and Christian communities over the past millennium. There were plenty of visitors, but it wasn't congested.  We took photos, visited the Parish Church of Saint Anthony of Padua and having walked the length of the old town, had lunch on the terrace of la Bodeguilla - swordfish for Kath and morcilla with slim potato chips for me. The restaurant is run by a collective of local women offering regional dishes cooked to perfection. Clare and I ate here on several occasions when she visited me during previous locum duty stays here. So good that it's survived the misfortunes and upheavals of recent years.

We called into Aldi and Lidl on the way back, to get some bread and drinking water. I was feeling tired, and had a load of washing to put through the machine, so I stayed behind while Kath went down to swim at Playa Vilches. After a doze on the bed, I read my Spanish novel until Kath returned. Then we cooked together - Omelette for her, tuna with tomato onion and pepper with left over pasta for me. As we're both left handed we find it easy to work together at the stove. When discussing this we realised most members of our family are left handed, if not ambidextrous.

Clare called as the sun was setting and we chatted for half an hour. Then I walked uphill to the furthest extent of the urbanizacion under the stars and noticed the lights of a cruise ship on the southern horizon. This was enough to complete my step quota to finish the day, ready for bed.

 

Frigiliana's Patronal Weekend

We had the best possible reason for leaving the chaplaincy house early and taking ourselves out for the day. A preferred candidate for appointment as Chaplain was to come and see the house before making the final commitment. So, we drove up to nearby Frigiliana, with a view to having lunch at 'La Bodeguilla', where we ate and enjoyed excellent cooking a couple of times when we were last here, a year ago. 

The meal was a long slow lazy afternoon pleasure, punctuated by the odd sound of explosions from the hillside above and a single burst of fireworks from a finca below us on the hillside. These were, presumably part of technical rehearsals for the village patronal festival of San Antonio, about which our waitress informed us. The saint's day is Monday 13th, so why not have a fun fair and an open air concert and a disco or two, to liven up the early summer night air?

Frigiliana has lots of small shops with a variety of interesting craft works, pottery, linen, jewellery. There are also a variety of small to medium sized restaurants tucked away behind the streets, each with its own terrace and view across the verdant valley and enclosing mountains. Some of the older streets are very steep, and merciful not accessible to traffic apart from two wheelers. The winding narrow main thoroughfare still carries traffic. Vans and larger SUVs in particular make pedestrian passage difficult and on times risky. Nobody seems to want to park up and convey their goods or passengers over the last half mile by other means. Such a pity, because this is damaging for quality of life for locals as well as visitors. Why better equals bigger in the modern automotive design portfolio seems to go unquestioned, when it comes to environmental and social impact.

We browsed the shops before lunch, and again after lunch. I took but a few photos only. I already have hundreds of the streets to enjoy from previous visits.

Back in Nerja, fences in public spaces are being mounted with chip-board panels to take posters to host forthcoming municipal elections. It seems that each year we've been here in June there's some sort of election campaign going on. I wait with interest to see which round of elections are due to take place this time around. Back in Blighty, dialogue of the deaf over the EC referendum continues almost to the point of overshadowing the European Cup competition, which starts this weekend. My vote has been cast in the former. The latter fails to grab my interest, except to observe that somewhere or another rival football fans are fighting each other again.

   

Cold soup and Carmelites

Yesterday, it was cloudy though still pretty humid. We walked into town to visit Modus Vivendi for some organic veg, and had some of their delicious gaspacho soup, both to try, and take away. Then, another trip to Frigiliana hoping it would be a little cooler a few hundred metres above the coast, for another excellent lunch at La Bodeguilla. We both tried a local sopa de ajo blanco - a cold soup made with ground almonds and garlic - utterly delicious. I didn't realise that cold soups could be so easy to make given the right recipe and a decent blender.

Today, I took Clare to Velez Malaga by car to introduce her to a town I have begun to appreciate, and was pleased that her impression was as favourable as mine. First we drove up to the Fortaleza, and then into town, to park near the bus station before talking into the old town to see some of its sights. I was especially pleased that the key 16th century St John the Baptist Church, re-built on the site of the former mosque, was open when we got there. It's a church much associated with local Semana Santa observances and their cofradias, some of the key figures carried in procession are on display in side aisle chapels. I was most interested to see what had happened to the bay of the south east aisle, which is distinguished on the outside by remnants of the mihrab of the old mosque.

The shallow apse bears no trace of original decoration. It's simply a renaissance altar with the risen Christ at the centre, aformidable statement in its own right. Unusually, the risen Lord is flanked by two female saints, both Teresas. On the right is the nineteenth century Carmelite Saint Teresa of the Child Jesus - known as 'Little Flower'. On the left is Caremlite reformer and Saint Teresa of Avila, born 1515 in the same century this church was re-built. Both were mystics, both were Carmelite nuns, hugely influential for their spiritual teaching and witness to Christ. 

Velez Malaga had an established Discalced Carmelite convent from the seventeenth century, plus a convent of Poor Clares and a Franciscan Friary, amongst others. All are now cultural centres visted by tourists or used by artists - shrines to human creativity and only occasionally worship sanctuaries, as in so many other parts of modern Europe.

We found a restaurant on the Plaza de Andalusia where we could lunch outdoors under a canopy of plane trees with a noisy population of parakeets in the leafy canopy above us. We had another chance to try local recipes - on this occasion a green salad which included raisins, walnuts, a soft goat/cow cheese, dressed with caña de miel - the distinctive light  sugar cane molasses, once a key product of local agrarian industry. A memorable flavour. It gave us strength for another circuit of historic streets to visit the old consistorio and realise this time how it's linked to the modern building next door which houses the Centre for Exile Studies, and its documentary archive, all funded by the Fundacion Maria Zambrano, as an enthusiastic volunteer guide proudly recounted. At last I'm getting confidence to engage in conversations beyond the call of domestic shopping.

 

Barbershop visit

Today was thankfully cloudier and a little cooler. We decided to return to Frigiliana for yet another wander around the streets and their interesting small shops. It was sheer serendipidy that our progress in a narrow street was halted by the passage of several cars, obliging us to stop and take refuge for a moment, next to a barber's shop, La Pelu de Fran. On an impulse, with encouragement from Clare, happy to go gift hunting on her own, I decided it was time for a nine euro haircut. After all it's the best part of eleven weeks since our dear friend Chris gave me luxury treatement at the Coleg Glan Hafren School of Coiffure, and now I'm having mane control issues.

I must emphasise what a risk this move across the threshold of a barber's shop entails for me, without sufficient vocabulary to ensure a happy outcome to the process. OK, the barber has enough English speaking clients to navigate through the morass of desires and vanities in a tongue of which he is not the master, but I needed an opportunity to speak Spanish in the 'real life' context. Well, that's the general idea. It was an enjoyable experience, with a large housewife and a small boy in the queue behind me and others popping their heads around the door and chatting. 

The barbers? A social centre in village life, place to catch up on the news, find out about people you know. I came away with a nice close crop, as short as I had it ten years ago, which pleases me. In this brief experience I recalled visiting a Palestinian barber in East Jerusalem during my sabatical stay in the Holy City. His English was even better, and I got my ear and nose hairs brought under control into the bargain. There's a whole world of intimacy and trust issues surrounding barbers' shops the world over, and lessons to be learned from them about the things that make for peace.

before having lunch another time at La Bodeguilla restaurant - such a good experience. Clare had a swordfish steak again for for main course and I opted for their chorizo, but we both started with sopa de ajo blanco - a cold milky looking soup with the silky flavour of garlic, and the grainy feel of ground almonds, garnished with sweet raisins - a typically local dish, like everything on their menu, and a culinary revelation! I so enjoy eating here, as the all female staff really seem to enjoy sharing with customers the food they prepare.

After lunch we made our way back to Church House by way of Lidl's for some food shopping, and then a late siesta and a leisurely evening supper on the terrace, listening to the birds ending their day with conversations in our neighbouring pine tree.

 

Town of three faiths

It was Owain's 37th birthday yesterday. He's taking a week's holiday in Berlin, a place he's become rather fond of in recent years. He sent us a selfie to say he's there, having a good time exploring the city by bike, as his AirBnB apartment has the bonus availability of free bike use during his stay. How splendid. It's a very bike frendly city.

I walked to the Church shop to celebrate the midweek Eucharist, and Clare joined me while I was having a coffee next door at Rosi's bar afterwards. Then we went down to nearby Playa Torrecilla so she could swim, before doing some shopping and returning for lunch.  After siesta, I took her by car to the top of San Juan Capistrano, and showed her where I'd been hunting for hoopoe photos without success so far. It was too hot for any serious walking, but at least Clare now has an idea of a place that I usually walk to when I have the time.

This morning we drove up to Frigiliana to have a look around, and ended up having lunch there in la Bodeguilla restaurant near San Antonio Parish church (where I took a wedding two weeks ago) which specialises in local food and recipes. What a treat! I think we'll be returning there to explore more of the menu before Clare returns home.

Frigiliana is a lovely hill town of Moorish origin. In the mediaeval heart of the village, history panels fashioned from glazed tiles adorn the walls with narratives about its arab history and the impact of the reconquista on a town that became a temporary refuge for those fleeing Christian armies determined to dominate a region in which Jews, Christians and Muslims had learned to live together in peace and harmony under Moorish rule, but that was destroyed thanks to the reconquista. Frigiliana today brands itself for visitors as the town of three faiths, although I can't say I noticed either a living mosque or synagogue among today's public buildings, only churches.

Pope Francis recently spoke of Sarajevo as 'the Jerusalem of the West', a city where Jews, Christians and Mulims have centuries of history living alongside each other peacefully. And yet, this visionary asset of cultural diversity and mutual regard, in so many places has become the focal point of power struggles that not even secular democratic governance can contain. Places where conciliation and compromise are an accepted way of life for the common good remain vulnerable to people reluctant to trust that anything good can happen when they are not in control. What is it that we need to learn to contain the control freaks of this world, and allow others to build trust and make a life together on their own terms?