La Vida Alcalaína

I'm not sure how extensively International Women's Day is celebrated in England these days - most people had pretty much lost interest when I left 18 years ago, believing the job was done.  But here in the land of machismo it's a still a big thing and events go on all week in Alcalá, organised by the town hall in conjunction with the adult education centre (SEP Maestra Inmaculada Almagro) and the Asociación de Mujeres de Alcalá de los Gazules (AMAG).  To understand why IWD is still a big deal here, you need to be aware that women's rights arrived much later in Spain than in most of western Europe, held back by nearly forty years of fascist dictatorship under Franco and the influence of the Catholic Church which played a major role in supporting it.   IWD march in Cadiz March 2926 By 1975, the year of Franco's death, men and women in the UK had equal rights in the eyes of the law.  But in Spain adultery, divorce, homosexuality, abortion and owning contraceptives ...

Two weeks ago I was moaning that it had been raining for weeks.  But I didn't know then that the worst was still to come. Hot on the heels of Joseph and Kristin, Storm Leonardo hit the Iberian peninsular and northern Morocco last week with devastating effects across Andalucía, especially the province of Cadiz. It was soon followed by the equally vindictive Marta, and yesterday we were warned that Nils was on the way, but heading for northern Spain. Apparently this extreme weather is due mainly to an area of high pressure which has been parked over Scandinavia for several weeks.  This has been blocking areas of low pressure with its mild wet weather from pushing across from the Atlantic, deflecting the jet stream further south and bringing unusually high levels of rainfall to the UK, western Europe and the Mediterranean. Winds of over 100 kpm lashed the Costa de la Luz last week, blocking roads with sand and destroying beach infrastructure. The beautiful mountain village of Gra...

The title of this post is a catchphrase in our household for whenever we get a spell of bad weather (said in jest, I should add - we're not total wimps). It was a regular complaint of an English friend who lived here for a few years before returning "home". Like so many others, she planned her migration south during a chilly wet English winter (in the comfort of her centrally heated house) after being convinced by TV shows such as  A Place in the Sun  that Andalucía was exactly that.   In the winter of 2010/11 it started raining on Christmas Eve and went on more or less continuously until the end of March.  Rivers burst their banks, low-lying towns and villages were under water, roads were washed away, and crops could not be sown.  But on the whole the locals were happy, because after several years of drought the reservoirs were once again full. The same phenomenon is occurring this year, except it started in mid-December.  I'm writing this at the...

 ... No, our provincial capital hasn't turned into Magaluf. We're talking about 1625, when Spain and England were at war over something or other. (If you really want to know see  Anglo-Spanish War (1625–1630 .) George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham and Lord High Admiral, wanted to destroy Spain's economy by raiding ships laden with gold and silver from the Americas and taking over the port towns such as Cadiz. Around a hundred ships and 15,000 men were readied for the Cadiz Expedition, led by Sir Edward Cecil - a proven soldier but with no experience of naval warfare. They left Plymouth on 6 October 1625 but bad weather in the Bay of Biscay caused delays and damaged many ships. By the time they reached Cadiz they had nearly run out of supplies.  Cecil was surprised by how well the city was fortified (after the English pirate Francis Drake "singed the King of Spain's beard" there in 1587, and Anglo-Dutch forces burned the city to the ground in 1596, the gaditanos...

Christmas in the pueblo is very different to what I remember about Christmas in England. It's about family, primarily, but the Nativity itself isn't forgotten. There isn't the same orgy of consumerism beginning in September, as most people don't start shopping until well into December.  Although Papa Noel is a bigger presence than he was twenty years ago, it's the three wise men, los Reyes, who bring the main gifts on 5 January. People gather in the street for zambombas, meeting old friends who have come home for Christmas and enjoying flamenco carols you can sing along with and dance to. The stress of one person cooking a meal for twelve people on the Big Day making sure everything is hot at the same time just doesn't happen, because different family members bring contributions to the Nochebuena and Nochevieja dinners, which take three hours to eat rather than twenty minutes - then after midnight the younger generation heads for a big party organised by the tow...