Village Life 2 - It's all about the grape - (No Cherries!)

You don't need an alarm clock during the summer months in Jesus Pobre. It's odds on you'll be woken by the sounds of air exploding fire crackers at roughly 9am during fiesta season. The last Sunday of this August was no different - BANG! "Cup of coffee my dear?"

That abrupt early morning call got me up and moving - I had a dog to walk; well, my daughter had asked me to walk hers the night before, time to see what this grape festival is all about.

The area around the Riurau was a hubbub of activity. Stalls were being erected, bar service was in full flow and there were many already seated and having their almuerzo (Mid-morning snack to my British readers). Many people were wearing the traditional dress of the mid-nineteenth century and the village was filling up with tourists. I dropped off the dog and went to see what it was all about.

This event is held on the last Sunday of August where the process by which the Muscat grapes (Moscatel in Spain) are transformed to raisins; called L'Escalda - The Scalding.

I researched the traditional process which begins with the grapes being transported in wicker baskets

Stoking up the fire under the kiln

placed on an open horse drawn cart. Next: a kiln is filled with water and a wood burning fire lit underneath it. When the water is boiling Herba Pansera or Olivarda is added. These are two types of herbs giving the raisin its golden colour; caustic soda is also added to the brew. This produces the cut in the skin of the grapes accelerating the drying process turning the grapes into raisins faster.

The arrival of the grapes - nice hats!

On a baking mid-morning I watched all of the process annotated above take place. The kiln is a permanent feature in the village, adjacent to the Riurau. It was filled and fired-up using pine wood and twigs, no doubt cut from the nearby trees. The grapes arrived on a traditional open cart, the drover performing a perfect three point turn in a confined space to ensure the grapes were easy to offload. And finally, when the water was at boiling point the grapes (in large wire baskets)
were dunked into the herbaceous water to be washed.

Standing by were the women of the village. Their task, when the grapes were hauled out of the water onto bamboo pallets, was to ensure the grapes were separated enough to ensure they would all individually dry out. When a pallet was full of grapes it was the job of two strong men to

Bringing the herbaceous water to the boil

move the pallets to a drying area. (Traditional cane pallets were being made outside the Riurau) Soon, the land next to the Riurau was covered in a sea of drying grapes, lying undisturbed by anyone in the village - could you see that happening back in England?

Sorting the "scalded grapes" before they are set out to dry

This was an event that mirrored the activities taking place on the very spot during 1873, the year the Riurau was built as a shelter to transfer the raisins to if it rained, preventing rot. It had been a living history lesson and a magnet for locals and tourists alike.. It was a jostle just to get a photograph.

The finished product being weighed on traditional scales

The nearby stallholders were selling books on the history of the process, raisins, grapes and Moscatel desert wine - the fruits of all those labours. Traditional farming tools were also on display. Nearby, the village fiesta organising committee members were doing a brisk trade at their bar...well, this is Spain. Cold beers, wines, soft drinks and excellent tapas was on offer - the shade adjacent to the bar a welcome oasis against the heat.

To round off the morning's activity Colla La Xarteta, a troupe of traditional musicians, led a procession of the Jesus Pobre Dance Group into the Riurau to complete a closing ceremony. Traditional music and dance was performed to the delight of the camera clicking audience; meanwhile, in a corner were a group of ladies making traditional wicker baskets, another photo opportunity for the tourists.

The procession of the dancers

The bars and restaurants of the town all benefited from the festival. Bar Pedro and Rosita swelled
their lunchtime bookings with a special three course menu of the day. We had a swift drink in Pedro's before wandering the few yards to Bar Rosita for our lunch. The staff in both places were in traditional dress to commemorate the day, it seems everyone in the village gets into the spirit of things. One of our courses was a Goats cheese salad with walnuts and raisins splashed with balsamic vinegar, an homage to the day, no doubt.

The objective of the morning's demonstration is probably to educate. I would differ, describing it as great entertainment; an occasion you should note in your diary for next year. To bring the day full circle, remember the dog? I volunteered to walk her again in the evening and on our usual route through the campo I saw a farmer harvesting his moscatel grapes - now, we all know what's going to happen to them.

"So ladies, is it Barcelona or Real Madrid this season?"

A sea of drying grapes

More photographs Here




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Family business giving great customer service

Ever since I upgraded to iPhone 6 plus I've had nothing but trouble. Not from the tech side of things, from my clumsiness. I've managed to break the screen 3 times!

The first time, I managed to get a new phone through my mobile provider's insurance. Not free of course, the robbing so and so's slapped on a £70 excess. The second time was just before I went on my travels round Asia, no problems then, I waited until I got out to Thailand and had it repaired at a fraction of the normal price.

So, I get over to Spain and... yes, it happened again. This time my wife allowed it to fall on the stone tiles in our living room. It cracked the screen despite having a cover - it's an unlucky phone.

After a trip to La Marina shopping centre I was told it would cost 150 Euro, a bit steep. I contacted a shop in Benitachell who explained they don't carry those screens - too expensive to have on stock. Drastic measures were needed - I turned to the help of Javea Connect.

If you have a problem in Javea or the surrounding areas there are no better people to rely on than the good folk on this Facebook group. Sure enough I was given a tip to check out the "Telephone Shop in the Port area - on the same street as the cinema". I knew where that was.

Telefonos World, to give the business its proper name is indeed on the street with the cinema - Calle

Santisimo Cristo del Mar, No19. It's easy to find, there is a sign above the door displaying a telephone - simple!

The place is an Aladdin's cave of techie stuff. Cables, leads, printers, cartridges, mobile phones, electrical devices; you name it, they've probably got it. They offer four PC's for internet use, (1 Euro for an hour), they are also agents for a MoneyGram service. They sell second hand computers, mobile phones and have a phone unlocking service.

At the back of the shop is the technical service workshop. The magician that fixes all the broken phones, tablets and PC's is Jose Manuel. I handed over my broken iPhone, he gave me a pick up time and I went for a leisurely stroll around the Port until it was time to collect it (roughly an hour).

When I returned, Jose was on his break. His father was putting the finishing touches to the repair and for good measure I asked for a plastic cover to be sealed on top of the glass. The cost was below that quoted in La Marina - result. I walked out of the shop feeling I'd received good customer service and felt I could recommend them to anyone.

Fast forward three weeks...the screen was coming loose from the chassis of the phone and there was something lurking underneath the glass inside the guts of the device. Time to take a trip back to the shop.

Jose inspected my phone and the plastic intruder was the surround for the camera. He said he'd never seen anything like this in 15 years repairing phones; there is always a first time for everything! He was busy, a further five screens had to be repaired, he asked me to return in the afternoon.

I returned. Jose was just putting the finishing touches to the job. He explained that actually my chassis on the phone was slightly bent, thus causing the glass screen to rise, he did however waiver any payment - I was pleased with that. He candidly spoke about Apple selling expensive phones but using inferior materials to cut costs. I was advised maybe to change the chassis on mine for a much stronger one he had in his workshop - I will certainly be doing that soon.

Mobile devices can be a pain in the backside at times. You can never get the younger generation off them, they make you more contactable, even on holiday and the bills can sometimes be horrendous - but, what would you do without yours? I've had bad luck with mine but I now can thoroughly recommend this family business (Mum is the retail guru) for any tech issues regarding phones, tablets, laptops, etc.

Jose speaks very good English and is also a very friendly guy. Whether you are a local ex-pat or a holidaymaker check this place out if you have any tech nightmares. Now, how can I keep my phone completely safe?

Telephonos World is open Monday to Friday from 10am - 2pm & 5pm - 9pm (Not open weekends)

Tel: 965 792 657 - 687 721 754

Email: info@telephonosworld.es  They are on Facebook!

Column in the Morecambe Visitor

http://Read my latest blog in the Morecambe Visitor herewww.thevisitor.co.uk/news/columnists/column-hometown-needs-help-to-lure-more-visitors-in-1-8070111

No football withdrawal symptoms on the Costa Blanca!

The start of a series of reports on where to watch live football on the Costa Blanca.

No 1. Mullins Bar - Moriara

The football season is finally back. No, not the phoney war of pre-season friendlies, the Community Shield and definitely not the debacle that was England's Euro 2016 disaster.

As it happens I don't support a Premier League team but having run a pub for the past ten years it seemed strange not being involved on the opening day. No worries for me about paying the Sky subscription, hoping the signal doesn't drop and trying to please all the match day punters - I was going to be a match day punter myself.

On the opening day of the Premier League I knew I would be in Moriara and not knowing the town too well I enlisted the help of the Facebook community. After posting an enquiry on the Javea Connect site I had lots of suggestions. On receiving a reply from one of the venues I decided to go with Mullins - now I had to find it.

Thankfully it's almost impossible to get lost anywhere in the world with Google Maps and a quick check informed me it would be a short walk from the main car park in the town - (I knew where that was. Last year in a hire car I scraped the side panel of a Merc being driven by a German - he chased me into the place).

It was hot, damned hot that afternoon but eventually following the Carratera Moraira-Calpe and not giving up I spied it on the junction with Camino del Pallero - needing a cold one was an understatement. If the council would allow it I would suggest some sort of signage to point the direction to the pub, I almost gave up looking and nearly walked back into the main town. To be honest, I could have driven to it; there were parking spaces nearby.

You approach the building and climb the steps through the terrace into the main bar area. A pie and a pint for 5 Euros caught my eye on the chalkboard - the wife would know as soon as she'd seen me

A tempting offer but wives are so forensic!

that I'd eaten a pie - they can just tell - can't they?

I was met by friendly but stressed out staff. The Hull v Leicester game was on but it was buffering all over the place - not a situation you need on opening match day. The confidence of the punters will wane and they will go elsewhere. Frantic phone calls were being made to their supplier, Telitec, and considering I'd walked past their offices on the way here it was ironic to say the least.

I stuck with it as the staff changed the game over to Rangers on BT Sport, it was football of a sorts, however the cavalry was on the way.

Steve, an engineer working for Telitec appeared, twiddled with a few things behind the bar and suddenly we had uninterrupted viewing - result. I could feel for them because it's happened to me in the past, it didn't spoil my afternoon though. A holidaymaker and fellow DJ walked in to watch the second half. He was a Midland's born Man Utd fan - nothing new there then. We did have a great chat about cheesy disco music, Northern Soul and why he was a United fan; occasionally checking out the game on one of the two screens in the bar. There is another screen available on the terrace.

That's the beauty of watching live football in a pub. You moan if something goes wrong but in the end, as long as the craic is good it's sometimes a great afternoon ruined by the wittering of Gary Neville and Co. (Bring back the overt sexism of Andy Gray and hairy chest of Richard Keys! Only joking ladies)

Inside Mullins

Worth the visit to read these quotes

I did enjoy reading the football and life quotes that are annotated on the wooden ceiling beams, it was a decent pint of San Miguel (Tetley's and Strongbow also on tap) and everyone, staff and fellow customers, were extremely friendly - especially to an outsider like me. I would like to watch a game there when the bar is a bit more full. Maybe the word had got around regarding the glitch with the Sky signal, a pity but I'm sure as the bigger fixtures are televised they will get a good following.

The main point of the exercise was I got to see a game on opening day - maybe I'll be hanging about in your bar next week?

Sunrise over Javea

I'm lucky, I suppose. At the moment I live in a beautiful area of the Costa Blanca, a region of Spain that enjoys more than its fair share of sunshine.

I used to live in Morecambe, a seaside town situated on the north-west coast of Lancashire - I've left behind spectacular sunsets only to replace them with just as stunning sunrises.

Thanks to Javea resident and ex-pat Ian Bates, (A Mansfield man) I can now reveal a selection of shots that depict the early morning display of orange peeping over the Mediterranean horizon. In fact, almost due east of Javea is the holiday Island of Ibiza, visible from many of the surrounding hilltop viewing areas on a clear day. (Can see a ferry ride coming up in the future)

I just miss out seeing the sun rise over the sea, the Montgo just obscures my view. Once over the peak it's getting hot, our blinds remain closed!

As I write the time of sunrise is approximately 7.15am, a bit too early for me; so thanks again Ian for providing these great images.

 

Mick's Top Tune - 2

Is it Modern, is it a Crossover track - who cares? Such a top tune by Eugene Record - Overdose of Joy.

Sad, Eugene who was also a singer/songwriter with the Chi-Lites, remember them? died in 2005.

Village life - Market Day

Jesus Pobre to the outsider can feel such a sleepy place. Wander through at siesta time and it's like a ghost town but lurking underneath that somnolent exterior is a vibrant and enthusiastic group of locals who really do take pride in their village. Demonstrated in large doses every Sunday at their Farmers Market.

The antique market on the first Sunday of June

Now, over three years old, the Sunday Market is a permanent fixture in what is already a fairly busy social calendar for the locals. The whole day revolves around the Riurau. For those not familiar with this sort of structure its a long stone cloister with a sloping roof. Used traditionally to dry out the grapes For the production of raisins it's also used as a cool, draughty meeting place. Very useful in the hot summer months. Coincidentally, the one in Jesus Pobre was the venue for my daughters wedding: three years ago.

Lynn and I have been visiting the market since its inception but have never really been able to enjoy a later night with the locals. We would inevitably have to drive back to a villa, so curtailing the drinking. It is now literally on our doorstep; Sundays have become a no driving day.

On a Sunday afternoon an army of workers put the market stalls together, moving tables, gazebos, lighting and bar furniture from a central location in the village. By 6pm the traders have set up their wares and the fun begins. It lasts until about midnight.

Inside the Riurau are the food and produce stalls. The Spanish being daily vegetable shoppers, this is just another reason to support the growers. Home made wines jostle for your attention with fresh fruit and veg, cheeses and charcuterie. Still warm mini-pizzas, tarts and fresh bread shout "eat me" as you walk along another section. Pride of place at one end of the structure is the bar, the social gathering place for all of the market goers.

The farmers and artisans market outside the town hall in June this year.

Flanking the Riurau are the artisan stalls. Here you can browse or buy hand made jewellery, paintings, lamps, and leather goods. Your wicker basket is woven whilst you wait, ditto your hand made ceramic tiles. Why not stock up on your fresh herbs and plants. We do, then I'm dispatched the few yards back to our house to drop them off before returning, usually to the bar!

All tastes are catered for. There is a fabulous stall selling tostadas, made in front of you as they melt the cheese onto a huge slab of bread. Next door is the Gorgos drinks company selling artisan beer. To top it all off indulge in a homemade ice cream or a freshly squeezed fruit juice - see, something for everyone.

There is a permanent children's park nearby so the little ones can be kept amused but there is also live entertainment every week. It's a great family evening out and one that almost doubles the population of the village. Ex-pats and holiday makers all flock here taking advantage of the free parking on the outskirts of the village (it's better to park there, the local police are always out in force looking to issue parking tickets!).

Every first Sunday of the month there is an antiques and flea market that begins at 9am. Refreshments are served and there is always some sort of entertainment, by 3pm however they give way to the Farmers Market.

"Eat Me!"

All this runs along smoothly in the hot summer months, by the middle of September the timings and hosting arrangements change. The Farmers Market changes from an evening affair to the morning. No problems here until the Sunday of the antique fair. On the occasion of them clashing for space in the Riurau the farmers and artisans move up into the squares around the town hall and also spill out onto the streets nearby thus the two markets taking over most of the village. It works!

The villagers should be proud of what they have achieved over the three years. They have stuck to their guns and insisted that anyone cooking or making anything should prove it's homemade.To give an example: Vicente sells his vegetables, fruit and homemade wines, I look out of my window across to his fields and see him tending his crops everyday. A bottle of red I have in my wine rack has been produced from the vines I can see from my living room - no carbon footprint there!

It's not just a market but a social phenomenon. Everyone you know in the village is there either supporting the growers and artisans, enjoying some live music or simply eating and drinking in the atmosphere.

Gata Fiestas - No Bull!

After almost ten years visiting this part of Spain I've finally witnessed my first "running of the bulls"- not for the faint of heart and definitely not for the slow runner.

I was taken along to the small town of Gata de Gorgos about a mile and a half from Jesus Pobre. It was a warm evening and I'd made that fatal mistake of taking a shower before coming out. The sweat was pouring off me.

From what I've learnt from being here a fiesta is just an excuse for a massive piss-up - for a whole week. If that's the case some of the residents of this town were doing well to be standing, never mind contemplating running with the bulls.

The bull run in Gata is located along side the main railway line running towards Benidorm and Denia. Not much chance of a catastrophe with a wayward bovine though, the line is closed for nearly

Oh very brave - until those bulls come running

two years for repairs.Specially made pens are transported in with two uses. One, they are a safety barrier for the spectators and two the top deck is used for private parties. A sort of birds eye view of the carnage!

Of course this being Spain there are bars. The normal bars where the locals drink every day and a mobile bar set up by the fiesta organising committee to raise funds for the next year. You can walk across the street to drink in any of the bars as the cages have gaps that just allow a person through but hopefully prevent a bull from getting in.

A firecracker explodes and from my safe position in the cage I witness about thirty men legging it round the corner, looks of excitement and fear in their faces as they are quickly followed by six bulls. some head for the gaps in the cages, some move to the other side of the road and some are just plain stupid.

In the middle of the road are some obstacles to allow people to hide behind if things go wrong. Near to me was a trough, someone was in it but unfortunately for him so was one of the bulls. How he

"Follow me guys - these ones are marinated in alcohol

managed to survive is a mystery. The bull leaped into the trough, crushed the hapless wannabe bull fighter against the side and just as quickly jumped out to join the heard - amazing. The guy stumbled out of the trough with just a pair of bent spectacles to fix - not his whole body.

This run goes on for another three or four times, the locals getting braver as the drink is consumed. Next is the running of the cow. Groups of lads are now out in the middle of the road, taunting the cow by waving a coloured jacket or some other item of clothing. They gingerly keep their distance though, she has a massive set of sharp horns.

Eventually all the livestock is corralled in, a chance to walk around in safety and sample a few more beers - well, at one euro a bottle it would be rude not to.

The wait for the next run gets longer and longer until an announcement is made that the delay is due to the ambulance being out on a call. They can't run the bulls if there's no ambulance. That's it then, back home for us.

So, I've witnessed my first bull run and have got to say it was all well organised. There isn't any cruelty to be seen, the bulls look healthy enough and there were plenty of stewards around to keep

There's enough alcohol around to fuel the bravado of the meekest individual.

order. Okay, some of the younger guys of the town thought they were world famous bull fighters but it's amazing what drink can do to the brain. The livestock have a great life, they run around in the hills for most of their lives in comparative luxury, good animal husbandry is the key.

Of course this summer there have been a glut of accidents, some fatal, involving this sort of activity in Spain. There are many (some ex-pats) who despise the whole practise, that's their prerogative; what we have though is a centuries old tradition we in England would never really get. If it was to cease it would have to be the Spanish who put a stop to it - not us.