Noche de San Juan in Malaga

After a good long night's sleep and slow start, adjusting to the increasing hear, Owain and I took the bus from outside the apartment door to Atarazanas market again and bought a few gourmet delights, olives, ham, cheese to last us the weekend. After lunch we made our way on foot to La Merced and sought out the Picasso Museum. 

Pablo Picasso was born in a house on the corner of Plaza de la Merced nearest to the market hall, but the museum in his honour is establisehd in a classical Andaluz palacio a few hundred meters beyond the barrio parish church of Santiago where he was baptized in 1881. There's a collection of his work from each of the eighty decades of his life as an artist, including childhood works. The admission ticket includes use of an audio commentary on each room of exhibits and each period of his life as an artist. It was a remarkable educational experience, well thought out and full of insight to reflect upon. We were both mightily impressed.

In the evening we set out on foot to dine at a Guardian recommended restaurant, a little way out of town to the east at El Palo. Being the 'noche de san Juan', every beach and every restaurant along the N340 coadt road was crowded and busy. We were astonished to find the restuarant we sought was closed, and less astonished to realise that on such a night, every place was fully booked. So, we got on a very crowded bus back to La Malagueta, full of young people going in search of their mates for a night of partying, and ate an emergency supper, quickly assembled at home.

We then returned to Playa La Malagueta, which was thronged with people of all ages, gathering to celebrate the midsummer fiesta, and maybe get in a paddle or a swim, in between eating barbecue food and drinking, as is customary on this night. At the and of the beach nearest the port of stage was set up, for a big disco with light show for an audience of many tens of thousands. Hard to guess just how many people were there for fireworks at midnight, or camping around a fire on the beach to watch the sun rise. We didn't stay up to watch. Today, Owain managed a morning and afternoon swim. One way or another, a very full day.

  

Noche de San Juan on the move

Voting day in the UK's EU referendum, but not a concern for us as we voted postally before we left. We've heard of people here having problems with getting their postal votes mailed back to the UK, because some Spanish post office workers do not recognise or know about the international Freepost convention and signage, as it's in English and French, not in their official postal language. I don't know how true or widespread this is, but its a complication no voter wants.

I had a meeting at the Balcon Hotel with a couple whose wedding I'm due to bless next Wednesday in Frigiliana. Then, after lunch I drove Clare to Malaga airport for her flight back to Cardiff. There were huge queues at the baggage check-in. Not just because of summer holidaymakers, however. There are several Vueling outbound flights within an hour or so of each other, notably one to Amsterdam. The conjunction happens when these two cohorts of passengers are boarding early morning flights as well, as I recall from previous experience.

I left Clare in the queue and went over to the RENFE station to find out if I could purchase a new Tarjeta Dorada train discount card there. No luck. Purchase of this kind are only possible at Maria Zambrano Station in the city, or Torremolinos, or Fuengirola. Knowing how easily I could achieve this in Fuengirola, I went back to check-in, said goodbye to Clare and drove west, to a town that is still familiar and fresh in my memory, from having spent the best part of eight months there the year before last. Mission accomplished I tried to book at ticket for my long distance journey in eight days time. Not possible except at the main station, or on-line. Ah well, another trip into Malaga, this time by bus in coming days I think.

Rather than go straight back home, I drove on to La Cala de Mijas, and visited Peter and Linda in their lovely Casa Madreselva house. Linda was in the pool, doing her physio exercises, following last years joint replacement op. It was great to meet up with them again and catch up. It's a year since I was last there for their joint 145th birthday celebration.

I got home in time for the start of the referendum count, but then at half past eleven headed down to Burriana beach for the Noche de San Juan festivities, there being nothing to glue me to the telly until the results began to flow. It'll be a long night for all the pundits and politicos.

La noche de San Juan

I missed the mercadillo altogether this morning, having resolved to stock up with fresh fruit and veg immediately before Clare arrives, but again there was wedding work to be done. Then, I walked into town to a wedding blessing preparation meeting for a Saturday service in the usual meeting place and there was more to do on return to Church house. I meant to go out again for an afternoon stroll, but it was rather hot. Later in the evening, I remembered that tonight is la noche de san Juan, the vigil of a major summer fiesta, with a big event down of Burriana beach. Would would have been content to go to bed, but curiosity got me out of the house and walking the mile or so down to the shore.

This night Nerjenos camp out (with official permission) on the beach,  light bonfires, cook barbecue meals and general have a good time, with a midnight immersive dip in the sea for the brave, to bring good fortune for the coming year, and an early rise to watch the dawn. There were hundreds of people camping out, a dozen small fires and even more barbecue stoves. On the promenade a huge bar and fast food stall had been set up, also a stage with live, happy party music. All the restuarants seemed to be full, and there were thousands of people of every nationality and of all ages, out having a festive night out, jigging around to the music, chatting, cuddling, being happy together. I didn't hear an angry word, or see any kind of social disorder, loutish behaviour or drunkeness. Individuals and families here seem capable of having a good time together without becoming a threat to each other. It's great.

There were few police around, keeping traffic in order, their preoccupation. The Guardia Civil had a squad of a dozen supervising the cordon around a huge bonfire mounted by an effigy, right on the sea shore. Just inside the safety fence fireworks were mounted on poles, and in ground batteries. I can't quite imagine a crowd in U.K. being allowed to get that close to the action, but when it came at midnight, the display was on a decent local community scale, rather than the pretentious industrial conspicuous consumption scale prevailing for public displays in urban settings - just right for the occasion.

The bonfire provided a grand blaze, lighting up the sea, so you could better glimpse excited teenagers and family groups dunking themelves and emerging triumpant to dry their hair in front of the fire. I was so taken with photography I was caught by a fast wave and got my feet wet and sandy. The cool was delicious, and made me laugh out loud. My Sony HX50 camera worked overtime, processing low light pictures, and after eighty or so, the battery was exhausted, so I headed for Church house and bed just after one. Sorting out the photos can wait for another day.