Thursday 22 September 2011

I've got 'Big Nuts'



The pink and white haze of almond blossom that stretches for miles over the hillsides during February has turned to fruit and ripened over the hot summer. This year my few trees are full and their nuts are exceptionally large. Perhaps it’s because we are in a sheltered valley, as across Almeria as a whole, they are saying that the late frosts on the blossom have harmed the harvest.

The trees are grown so extensively here because of their tolerance of dry conditions. Tractors now harvest the large farms mechanically, with huge blue umbrella like contraptions that wrap themselves around the tree, and shake the almonds into a hopper.

All my neighbours own some almond trees. They have been collecting the nuts by hand and then they use a noisy machine to de-husk the green skins from around the shells. Nothing is wasted, as the husks are saved as winter fodder for the goats, or dried and used as fire kindling. Piles of drying almonds can be seen spread outside every home - except for Andre, who ingeniously uses the heat from his corrugated iron garage roof to dry his. And then the trees are pruned into a distinctive low crown that encourages new shoots; provides for ease of harvesting and also firewood!

Andre’s 20year old Renault 4 has been away for some major welding repairs, but late this afternoon I was pleased to see him and Isobel trundle down the camino, in it, with long poles extending from the rear windows. They went to the small maize field, where each evening lately, he has tied a couple of his dogs – his ‘policias pequenas’ - to trees, to deter any night creatures (pigs, deer, foxes or stray dogs – who knows) that  were likely to raid the ripening corns.

Andre's maize field

They spread a large sheet of olive netting under a tree, and proceeded to loudly thwack it with the long poles. I could hear the nuts raining down onto the sheeting, and it was clear that they were going to collect several sacks. These they could sell one of the local almond factories for around 50centimos per kilo unshelled.
Millie likes this time of year too!

At this time of year, strings of red peppers, hang from the walls of the houses to dry, and these will provide flavour and colour to winter stews. On a wide stone outside his house, Andre dries the pepper seed for next year’s crop. Nothing is ever wasted.

The figs are ripening too - dark purple or subtle yellow depending on the variety - and the birds are 'making hay'.......and so is Merito, who accompanied by his little dog Rocky, has meandered down with a couple of collecting buckets to a 'green fig' tree. I think it’s going to take him some time to fill them, as more seem to be heading to his mouth, than into the buckets.


Autumn is slowly arriving and the colours of the barranco are mellowing to a golden hew, but even as I type, I can hear the small 'hand ploughs', preparing the terraced strips of land, for next springs bounty of potatoes, onions and beans.

Tuesday 6 September 2011

So did I really see a wolf?


Most mornings, I am woken up early by the sound of a low growl. I ignore it, but soon it is followed by an impatient bark. Still I ignore it. And then I am fully stirred, when pushing home the joint assault, Holly the lurcher leaps to sit on my chest, and Millie the husky cross, starts to tug at my wrist. It’s only just getting light, so it must be time for a walk!

So off, we go, along the camino, and we soon came across Antonio, standing by the open boot of his ancient blue Fiat, parked near the track down to the first fuente.  Antonio now lives in Oria, but has spent most of his life in the Barranco, and still likes to drink the local waters. ‘Could I help him’? He wanted to fetch a couple of large bottles of water, but he had a hernia, so if he held my dogs for me, could I go and fetch some for him.
Antonio's Balsa
I went down to the fuenta to collect the water, my good deed being rewarded by the sight of blue dragon flies skimming the surface of the balsa. I also enjoyed a cool face rinse and hand cup of water from the fresh mountain spring.  Antonio and I happy, we continued on our way.

A little owl watched us with little apparent interest from its perch on the telephone wire; and over the valley, which was now out of shadow; a pair of eagles were circling on the first thermals. We surprised a couple of rabbits, but I was able to restrain the dogs, so much to their disappointment, the rabbits were able to scarper up the mountain.

A little further on, we came across Juan, Jose’s brother, down from Alicante for a few days. He was scrabbling about on the steep side of the camino, collecting something in a plastic bag from a sprawling ground plant. ‘What are you doing’, I asked? He replied that he was collecting ‘alcaparras’, and that he didn’t like them, but his wife did, but only the very small ones, after they had been pickled in vinegar and salt. Needless to say, I had to look that one up – capers!
A caper bush
Then we cut down towards the rambla. Past Katty’s, with strings of red peppers already drying in the sun. Past Isobel’s, large tomatoes ripening on vines in her small front garden and a bucket of prickly pears on her door step.; and then past Mel and Josephine’s and a friendly greeting from Ruff, their rescued Spanish Water Spaniel.


This morning we had the rambla to ourselves. We were approaching the Boca de Oria; where nearly five years ago, when we had first moved to the Barranco, we had come across Katty and her cousins from Diamuz enjoying a merienda – a picnic party, that we weren’t allowed to leave, until we’d taken a full share of the paella cooked on the open fire, and the melon cooled in the nearby fuenta, washed down of course, with copious amounts of home made wine and whiskey and coke! oh dear!

No merienda today though.

I felt a tightening of the leads and there was a low growl, but not the’ get up and come for a walk’ growl; something far more serious; and up ahead I spotted the cause for concern. Another dog maybe, but not one I’d seen around here, before or since. It was certainly not a fox, far too big. Grey and Alsatian like, but sleek, if not scrawny,  and with very long legs, that didn’t so much trot as pad, as it slinked into the undergrowth, with it’s bushy tail fixed firmly between it’s legs.
Millie and Holly -  the Wolf Slayers
So did I see a wolf? I don’t know for sure. My research says that, while their numbers in Spain are increasing, they haven’t settled here yet. However, they say the same thing about pole cats, and I definitely know I’ve seen one of those.