CORRIDA DE CINTAS EL FAZ


   It's fiesta time of year and a little village close by, held its
first ever fiesta. It was a small afair but turned out to be very
well attended. With its own statue of St Antonio, patron saint
of farm animals. An outdoor mass was held and blessings
given. Followed by an antique car rally, free paella for all, a
bouncy castle and stalls. The highlight was to be the Corrida
de cinta or the ribbon competition. ( involving horses and riders)

   As with all these gatherings it took time to come together.
Horses and riders arrived from far and wide. All dressed in their
finest chaps, spurs and tassels. Well groomed mounts with
plaited manes and decorated saddles, more like arm chairs.
The excited competitors strutted their stuff amongst the spectator's.
Young and old wandering amongst the mares and stallions.
There were no saftey barriers all milling and mixing together. The
riders wore no hard hats. They were mostly male with one smart lone
lady rider. They pranced, trotted and showed themselves off amongst
the onlookers.

   Eventually all began to gather along a dirt track. Two poles were
erected either side, with a wire strung between the pair. Ribbons
had been wound around the wire, on the end of each was attached
a small plastic loop. The idea being that the riders, armed with a
pencil, gallope up the track and when passing under the wire trys to
hook off a ribbon, releasing it like a banner behind.

   So the riders on their stomping, snorting, steeds loosely organised
themselves to begin. One by one they galloped up and tried to capture
a loop.Easier said than done. The most successfull was Don Quixote on
his clapped out steed with bent back. He trotted up in a hobble de dee
fashion and being rather tall just reached up and scored several bulls
eyes. His side kick Sancho faired less well.

   The most confident rider, an aloof man dressed like a picador, his
hand on his hip, the other holding the reins, faired even less well.
Carrying a pencil instead of a pike, mounted on a stupendous
stallion, heavily controlled with bit, spurs and martingale, he urged
his mount forward and galloped at full pelt towards the loops.
It was the slapping noise that drew my attention, like a thaking.
I looked up and there flapping from side to side was the mounts huge
manhood. The rider thought that he was king of the corrida!
We thought 'GOOD LORD'.

                            I LOVE MY LEAK


     My neighbour called the other day and we got talking about water, as one
does here in desert conditions. It is a constant problem but worse for us is the
lack of natural rainfall. For several decades now the local farmers have been
saying that the reason for the scarcity is because someone is sending up
aircraft to spray the rainclouds,  to stop it raining. At first we thought 'no', but
since then on many occasions we have heard and seen two aeroplanes flying
back and forth above the low lying rainclouds and spaying them with God
knows what to disperse them. lt works, the rain doesn't fall and the clouds move
elsewhere.


     This has been going on for years, the desert creeps closer, the crops fail.
Well the crops of the smaller local farmers fail. The crops of the plastic farmers
boom. They have plenty of irrigated water, they do not rely on rainfall.  lt is now
said that it is the insurance companies manipulating the weather because they
do not want to pay out for rain damaged or flood damaged crops.


     l was then invited to attend a protest rally taking place in the little town of Oria
up in the hills. "Did I want to go"? "Well yes", l replied. So we did. The small town
square was packed with every farmer and his well dressed wife, all excited about
the prospect of being on the telly. The cameras arrived and a group of speakers.
A banner was strung up and speaches made. One orator, an almond farmer from
Murcia rallied the listening asembly  to great excitement and alarm as to the situation.
The telly interviewer asked some stupid questions about the 'legend'. The cameras
zoomed in, the gathered throng where asked to move forwards, so they all shuffled
forward, then they were asked to move backwards, so they all shuffled backwards.
After about an hour it was all over and we drove back down to our valley.


     'Ah the leak'. Yes at the end of my garden l have a water leak. Every now and
again l dutifully inform the water company and they come and fix it. But now l
cover it over with branches to hide it. l have introduced terrapins rescued from the
water hell hole. Planted pumpkin and mint. The singing frogs have found it, insects
busy themselves, grass and flowers grow. This morning whilst drinking my tea,
l could  hear the choir of throaty frogs singing and the fluty yodelling of a golden
oriole bird. It flew down into the tree above me, then another. l froze. Their song
almost sounds like water being poured. I wondered if infact it is their song for,
"here there be water, we have found water!"


     I love my leak.