A Weekend of Delights
This past weekend, we could have been forgiven for thinking that the clock had been turned back 2 years, and the awful period between March 2020 and now was nothing but a nightmare.
In the face of much adversity, across Andalucia, cultural activities are slowly coming back to life. This weekend, too, saw the ‘Me Vuelves Lorca’ festival return to the remote Alpujarran village of Laroles. We were unable to make the journey to that side of the Sierra Nevada this year to see what the organisers had neatly called heir Edición Bonsai (small but perfectly formed!).
We had our own festival here in Moclín, and I did end up comparing the two events a little. We both love what Anna Kemp and her team are doing in Laroles, and so much of what they do has been an inspiration for us here. This weekend, our Ayuntamiento managed to put together their own festival ‘lite’ in the shape of the small but perfectly formed XIII Fusión Velillos. Given the prevailing circumstances, the festival was not ushered in with a blazing fanfare, but this annual August spectacle sort of crept up as part of a series of summer events devised to bring some light and life back into the villages hereabouts.
Fusión Velillos has traditionally been a 2 or 3 night series of music concerts with a nod towards the rockier side of the repertoire. In 2019, we were lucky enough to see the wonderful Dry Martina, a sort of Spanish Caro Emerald who gave a tremendous performance on the stage in the village’s Plaza de las Flores. We are not experts on Spanish rock music, so every act that we see for the first time is something of a surprise, and this year we had absolutely no idea what to expect. Suffice to say, after the barren months of 2020 we were just delighted to see music return.
The venue for the first night’s concerts was moved to the sports area and the stage was erected with the castle as the backdrop. Even now, great care was taken to ensure that the space did not become crowded, and there was well-spaced seating. The evening was warm and the indigo sky was punctuated by ever-brightening stars. The first band to perform were called Leone, and instrumentally they were great and, not having the first clue what was to follow, we just supped on cold beer and enjoyed the amazing atmosphere. Oh, that atmosphere - the village all out to enjoy life again, and be carried along by joyous music and the company of neighbours, friends and families.
Leone were followed by a slightly larger band who were clearly better known. El Canijo de Jerez was a group of 4 guitarists, a drummer and lead vocals/guitarist and band frontman, Marcos del Ojo. From the moment the musicians arrived on the stage, we were utterly transfixed. The energy, the evident fun, the badinage and the musicianship was quite something to behold. I can honestly say that I have rarely seen such amazing guitar-playing in any live concert; OK, I have never seen Brian May perform live, but I have seen many other great bands. Every single musician played incredibly - there were riffs everywhere, and the music style was compelling and infectious. The lead singer had huge charisma and a great voice, and the long set (it must have been 2 hours) seemed to fly by in mere moments. Towards the end, there were some moments that gathered such pace that even I was sorely tempted to rock in the aisles but I may have proved a danger to the rest of the audience, so I refrained.
Music and live performance has such a capacity to evoke strong emotions, and this first night of the festival brought with it an immeasurable surge of euphoria and the opportunity to forget, for the briefest of moments, how awful the past 18 months have been.
The second night, and the activities returned to the Plaza de las Flores with an altogether more sedate musical treat. Lombarda Íntimo is an ensemble of musicians who perform traditional Andalucian music on traditional instruments including a small violin seemingly created from a tin that once contained traditional pastry treats. The triangle, tambourine, bodhrán, castanets and bells all made appearances in this musical journey through the villages of the Alpujarras and beyond. No Flamenco here, but music that clearly had Celtic roots, presumably brought down from Galicia when the Christians had expelled the Moors from this part of Andalucia. To repopulate the villages that had previously been Moorish, the Catholic King and Queen brought folk from northern Spain to fill these rural corners, bringing with them their language and music.
Chatting to a friend after the show who is himself an Irish musician, we were both very surprised to learn that this type of music is a very traditional and integral part of life in the Granada Mountains, so rich it is in influences we more readily associate with Scotland, Wales and Ireland.
Coronovirus Car
On the final day of the festival, there were all sorts of things going on around the village, including waterslides and foam frolics in the main square - all quite tempting on a hot August afternoon, but possibly not quite tempting enough. Another traditional event managed to take place in a slimmed-down version. Autos Locos is a Whacky Races rally down the hill from the top of the village with participants riding in their own vehicular creations - basically, rickety go-karts that all threatened to fall apart spectacularly on the first bend. It was sad to see that the field of contestants was not as large as it has been in previous years, and our mayor, Marco, did express his hopes for more mad-cap drivers and jalopies next year. We are very tempted!
Sitting outside Bodega Doral, one of our little village bars, watching the sun dip behind the hill and waiting for the first run of karts was a magical moment. Everyone seemed to be out, joined by friends and families, standing on corners, or hanging over balconies to see the action, cold beers often in hand. No one could possibly feel gloomy in such a gathering, and as a cool breeze whipped up it felt as though everyone was taking a collective sigh of relief that fun, laughter, nonsense and silliness had never really been that far away.
We were joined briefly by friends from Granada before we trotted down the hill back to the Plaza de las Flores for a performance by the village theatre group in a short play, ‘El Rey Busca Novia’, a little farce about a king’s search for a girlfriend. The poor, randy king was presented with three less-than-winsome fairer-sexed candidates resulting in the king deciding that his trusted male courtier was a much better prospect. Short, sweet, laugh-out-loud and the icing on the cake of a weekend of fun.
There is no denying that it is still such a tricky time. Gradually, and due to the commitment of the local town halls, performers, and audiences, we are able to enjoy these moments of pleasure, taking us all momentarily out of the frying pan of statistics, rates, infections and much more besides. After the festivities, a sort of hangover kicks in when we realise that our little day-to-day challenges have not gone away, they were merely set aside for a few hours. We returned today to the Herculean task of trying to persuade visitors to return to rural Andalucia, that this beautiful, under-populated corner of Europe really does provide a tonic that we all need. By taking these tentative steps in the search of joy, laughter and community, the darker days will gradually become lighter and spaced further apart, eventually to disappear altogether. For now, though, we must savour every moment of delight that music, culture, art, performance, community and our magical location all throw into the pot.
