Summer concert

It all paid off. All the work, all the weeding and trimming, pruning and strimming, all the frantic activity of the recent weeks all came together for the evening of July 24th. The garden was looking gorgeous as were, might I add, myself and Ella. The borders of the lawn were straight, the plants had been well watered during the week to ensure they were looking their best and all dead heads were removed. Water was trickling through the newly built garden fountain, and the breeze was lightly drifting through the ornamental grasses. A little after 7.30pm the public started to arrive and were able to spend time wandering around the gardens, appreciating what is a very singular sight in the area, swathes of herbaceous borders. Chairs were scattered around the square garden and the musicians were carrying out last minute rehearsals from the apartment 'La Corona'.

But boy was it hot! One of the hottest days of the year. Daytime temperatures had reached 34 degrees and it was all we could do to stop ourselves from wilting.

The concert, though, was a delight. About 65 guests turned up to enjoy the music, and the programme itself was a well thought out mixture of Vaughn Williams, Bach, and Mozart along with traditional Spanish music. Performers were The Quintessential Quartet from England - Alistair Kennedy, Amanda Rowden-Martin, Graham Gillham and Cat Jary; Klaartje van Veldoven, international soprano from Holland; and her partner, Rembrandt Frerichs, famous Dutch jazz pianist; José Manuel Muñoz, clarinetist from Seville; and Pepe Milan, local banduria player. Click on the play symbol below to see a little of what the evening had to offer.

My only complaint is against the tall ones, William and Robert. Having done all we could to assist them in the preceding weeks and days, were we allowed to sit amongst the audience offering our heart felt appreciation for the performance? No we were not! Shortly before the concert started we were lured into the house with promise of some dried biscuit or other, then shut up in one of the rooms there. We had to content ourselves by enjoying the music as it glided in through the open window, but we made our appreciation known by barking along at times in support of the louder pieces and the applause of the other listeners. It was as though we had been removed to the upper tiers of the circle where the seats have restricted viewing. Our only consolation was to know that whilst clearing up later, William's Mother, who fortunately for us is staying here at the moment, would surely slip us some more tasty morsels to compensate us for our captivity.

That was our third summer concert and we hope to continue the tradition of inviting people to our garden to enjoy the space and culture on offer.

Yours, watching from the circle,

Fergus

Flea in my ear

I've got a flea in my ear today, at least that's what it feels like. Most annoying. It's hot and I can't sit still for this constant irritation in my ear. I'm not sure if it is a sting or just a wayward grass seed. I've tried shaking my head vigorously from side to side to see if I can shift it, but no luck. If it were Ella shaking her head it would probably fall off and roll into the compost heap, so flimsy and fragile is her frame, but I'm a sturdy pedigree dachshund with strong features. Can you imagine how much energy I have to expend to shake this hefty brain box of mine. Then there are the ears. A rapid swivelling motion of the head causes then to flap vigorously, like some elephantine helicpopter. First under my chin then on the top of my head, each one consequetively, one after the other, beating me as they pursue their percussive path. It sends me into a stupified daze, but anything is better then this pain in my ear, if only I could dislodge it. The tall ones have tried poking their sausage like fingers into my auditory passage but only make matter worse, so I'm going to spend the rest of the day in the gloomy shade under the table trying to sleep and block out this sensation of having a flea in my ear, one that has taken up fencing for a hobby.

Before I sign off, I'd just like to mention Natalie and Robin, who appeared in a previous Dogblog. They left us on Wednesday, full of compliments about their stay here. This is what they were kind enough to write in the guest book:

What a stunning place, gorgeous gardens, enchanting cortijo, the most relaxing holiday we've had in a long time. As the other guests have said we would thoroughly recommend the four course meal, incredibly romantic and tasty. The walk to the waterfalls was perhaps not advisable in the full heat of July but the waters were worth the climb. Should recommend more but we took full advantage of lounging in the beautiful gardens and unwinding in this gorgeous place.
Natalie and Robin, July 2009

There seems a hushed quietness in the countryside around as the heat of summer starts to makes its presence felt and the locals gird themselves for the onset of fiesta season. For us, it's just one week until the garden concert.

Yours, from some sulky corner,

Fergus

PS - Haven't received any suggestions for fruit and vegetable related music as mentioned in my last blog, so I can't publish any.

Music in the Mountains

Sunday evening saw us going down to the lovely local village of Mecina for a delightful event, one of the concerts in the Music in the Mountains festival - a season of musical events that takes place throughout the year in the Alpujarras. In the summer many of the performances take place outside in rather informal situations. Last night a group from Oxford, UK, were performing their own choice of music on an Era in the village of Mecina - an Era being an old threshing circle. I recorded a rather scratchy video of the occasion but I feel it is worth listening to just to get a feel for the music.

The group had a rather unusual name, Potato Potato, but it seemed somehow fitting given their rustic agricultural environment. I wandered down to our vegtable bed this morning to see if any of our crops could inspire me to music, but alas all I could come up with were the ideas:

It's been a chard days night
All you need is loveage
Eat me tender
Strawberry fields forever
Hey Judia (Spanish, for bean)
You're getting to be a habas (Spanish for broad bean) with me
Somewhere over the rainbow chard

Any more contributions? Please email them to us: info(at)cortijoopazo.com

One of the more significant events in the fiesta calendar in Spain is the Bull Running in Pamplona, otherwise know as the Festival of San Fermin, an event fully supported and organised by the town hall, and filmed in its entirety by national TV channels.

During the second week in July Pamplona stages many days of bull fighting. To move the fated animals to the bull ring the bulls are released, early in the morning, from the other side of town. They are then encouraged to charge along a barricaded route of a little under 1 kilometre. Soon after they start running they encounter streets that are full of mostly men dressed in white with red neck scarves, who proceed to run with them, at risk of personal injury and sometimes death. This year there has indeed been a fatal injury but the fiesta continued as planned. The poor runner was buried the day after he was gored on the horn of a bull and he has become a sort of hero of the day. If you wish to see more of this then have a look at this link, although it is upsetting to watch it all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpz22RpsgpI

Much is still said about bull fighting and bull running in Spain. In 2003 a group of protesters started the idea of 'Running with the Nudes' and in protest initiated a tradition of running naked along the designated route three days before the festival starts. Apparently in the first year, when 25 people made such a protest, the locals were outraged at this moral affront. Now, just 6 year later, hundreds participate and it is regarded as another fun Spanish fiesta event that prolongs the celebrations and brings in more tourists and therefore more money. If you wish to have a look, then here's the link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzZy45Yg86I

Warning, there is no actual nudity to be seen.

Yours, from behind the camera but sitting on the fence,

Fergus

PS If you would like to receive an email from my assistant at Cortijo Opazo whenever I publish my Dogblog, please send in a request to info(at)cortijoopazo.com - the (at) is a clever code for @ that few but the most intelligent can crack, but hopefully not those internet spammers.

Dining in style

Last night we prepared a meal for Natalie and Robin, who are currently staying in La Corona. I say 'we' although I myself had little to do with the practicalities of cooking - my paws are not long enough to reach the food preparation counter. But I was there to maintain the standard, although not, alas, as a taster. The meal they enjoyed was:

Tapas of manchega cheese with a membrillo (quince) topping, accompanied by a glass if ice cold fino.
Starter of white bean pate served with black olives, sliced orange and homemade hazelnut and rosemary bread
Maincourse of a Spanish casserole: lentils, morcilla and chorizo with courgettes (from the garden) cooked in fresh mountain oregano.
Dessert of homemade lemon ice cream served with assorted fresh fruit from the garden dipped in chocolate
Wine and coffee.

The wine was a relatively new find for us, Vega Sabina, from the small town of Toro near to Salamanca, north west Spain. These wines are highly recommended, having a strong, oaky yet fruity flavour. Far preferable to the bowl of tepid water that sits on the floor for Ella and I to sup! Tapas was served in a corner of the garden whilst the main part of the meal was eaten on the terrace, 'al fresco'. I'm sure Natalie and Robin had an evening to remember.

Yours, from under the table,

Fergus

A touch of the theatricals

I'm not sure that I approve of what he has been up to but Robert wanted me to publish an extract of some piece of theatre that he and a couple of friends have been doing.

Apparently he even gets paid for doing it.

Yours, from the front row,

Fergus

Season of plenty

Summer is here, as I might have mentioned before. A little trip to the village today revealed the arrival of some of the 'veraneantes', which is the Spanish for summer visitors. Many of them will be people who were born in the area or who have family here. They will spend the rest of the year elsewhere in Spain, perhaps in their house in Granada, but come back to the Alpujarras for most of July and August - to this end many are actually retired but of course in Spain it is very normal to have at least a month's holiday during the hot part of the summer when you can escape either to the costas or to the mountains. So, a big welcome to them although they come back here and swan around as though they own the place - which probably they still do.

Also, more fresh crops have arrived. This week, hard at work in the vegetable bed, we have been harvesting potatoes, lettuce, carrots, courgettes, strawberries, raspberries, chard, and a handful of sweet runner beans. What to do with all this bounty? Well, the picture shows a delicious shortbread and fruit cake that William made.

Harvested from the wild this week has been oregano. The leaves of this popular herb are tasty enough but better by far are the newly opened flowers, picked at just the right moment. All around in the uncultivated fields and valleys, now is the right time. It is one of the many occasions when you can see the locals, with bottoms in the air, picking some valuable wild plant from the sides of the road. We've done our bit, as can be seen in the picture above, but there's more to collect.

News from the goat pen, Pastor has reinforced his enclosure, so, for the time being, I can relax my guard a little. Ella seems a more mad than usual and we suspect she has forgotten what to do when the weather gets summer hot, as it has been this last week. She still charges around the place and looks surprised to find herself out of breath and drooling from the mouth. She needs to learn from me, find a shady spot in some damp vegetation and wait for the day to pass.

Yours, from the back of the herbaceous border,

Fergus