Digital discovery

Yesterday I had a call from Doreen about a bereavement in Nerja and a funeral in Velez Malaga on Saturday, which Fr Nigel couldn't do, due to his existing commitments. I agreed to do this, which meant a journey there by car this morning to meet the family.

I was given an address, for which Google Maps provided me with a one location when in fact there were two, answering to the same search key word, within half a kilometre of each other in different urbanizaciones in different hilly locations. Consequently, I went to the wrong one first. As I sought to extricate myself from a complex internal one way system, the car signalled that it was running out of petrol, and although it may have had enough fuel, I couldn't take the risk of the engine conking out somewhere on a steep gradient, so I had to divert and get petrol first, making me even later than planned. Not that this was of concern to those waiting for me, as time seems to stand still when you have just lost someone unexpectedly.

Anyway, eventually I arrived. It was already four days since the sudden death. The funeral director had been engaged, but finding an English speaking priest had taken longer than usual. This is one of the unforeseen hazards of expat life, until it happens close to you. It turned out that one of the three daughter-in-laws works as a church administrator back in Britain, used to preparing funeral orders of service. This proved to be very helpful in these circumstances, and she was keen to offer her services in honour of her father-in-law.

As I was in Nerja, I went to Maro and had a pub lunch with Judith, formerly churchwarden of Nerja, who'd seen the chaplaincy there through a demanding two year interregnum, and then after stepping down at the end of an eight year term of office, needed a hip replacement operation, from which she is now recovering well, and in good spirits. Over the course of the Nerja interregnum, I was locum chaplain there for several months in a couple of stints. Judith is one of those people who have a gift for making friends, a memorable church welcomer with a reputation far and wide. It was good to see her face free from lines of pain caused by coping with a deteriorating hip joint. It won't be that long before she's walking again without a stick.

After my return to Malaga, I was sent the agreed draft funeral service order for final scrutiny. Then, half an hour after approving this, a panic call to say that due to a lack of ink, printing was proving impossible. The chaplaincy office printer wasn't up to the job, but it occurred to me that further down the same block in the street is a digital print shop. I went out to check opening hours, and it was still open.

Under instruction from the shop assistant who dealt with me, I emailed the print ready file from my phone to the print shop address, and returned to the apartment ten minutes later with the forty copies requested. The ease and simplicity of this astounded me, as I am prone to getting into a mess when working on rendering a document file into a booklet. It's been possible to achieve this degree of accuracy and simplicity where documents are concerned for the past decade at least, where there are compatible systems. But, with the advent of new mobile technologies, what matters most is that files can be reproduced accurately on any system. Add to this the potential of mobile phones and tablets to work in exactly as desktop computers have done for much longer and you have the latest kind of revolution. I don't need a printer in my workspace for sophisticated tasks any more. I just need a suitably equipped print shop near to where I live or work.
 

Another up-country visit

This morning, I collected the car from St George's cemetery and drove out of town towards Granada for my second visit to celebrate the Eucharist for the Salinas congregation. I made sure I was early enough to get a drink in one of the village hostelries beforehand, and take a stroll around the place with my camera. I discovered there's a working train line running through the place, that connects Cordoba with Granada, although Salinas station is no longer operational, so it's necessary to drive 18km to Loja for a train.

There were fourteen of us for a Sung Mass, with eight in the choir. Once again I enjoyed the quiet and reflective nature of the occasion. It was great to have such a good sing. We met at Bar Manolo for a drink afterwards. Curate Doreen soon arrived from taking the service and Velez Malaga so that we could have lunch together, and spend the afternoon discussing ministry and the chaplaincy. It was something we'd promised ourselves we'd do during my stay, as we did during last September's locum duty here.

It was six by the time I drove back to Malaga. The countryside of the Comarc de Noroma on the plateau 600m up behind the coastal sierras is heartbreakingly beautiful. Heartbreaking, because it's impossible to stop and take pictures where the views are best. It's so photogenic in the warmth of early evening light, richly green, but with darker greens than we get further north. The slopes grow olive and almond trees. 

The rolling plains grow cereals and have recently been harvested, leaving swathes of bright golden stubble tinted red, grey or white, depending on the underlying soil. That palette of yellows and greens is so exquisite it almost moves me to tears. I can't even gaze at it on the move, as I must keep my eyes on the road! I could do with a few days to wander the back roads and capture this landscape at different times of day. Villages and farms are relatively few and far between. Three small towns along this route have Villanueva as their first name. But, it's the open rolling countryside that captures the eye.

I can see what draws painters to Spain, like Provence. I wish I could paint, not just take travel snaps. But that requires the kind of time and patience as well as vantage points I don't have. Well, at least I can talk about it!