Join us for a little bit of island life!

Thursday, 29 November 2007

Anyone seen a ship?


What a good chap Christopher Columbus would appear to be. In discovering America, which is obviously a small detail, he also managed to significantly augment the wealth of the Canary Islands. It was here in the Canaries in 1492 (shortly after Spain had taken the Canaries for its own in a dastardly trick of deceit) that he would stock his three ships. With the sort of jolly jaunts he had in mind he would certainly need a plentiful supply of fresh water and good Canarian food. I like to imagine this would include smoked cheese, live goats and chickens, plus a crate or two of oranges and lemons, before setting out on the long voyage across the Atlantic to the New World. Noble fellow indeed and with an excellent taste in food!

In the 1940’s, La Palma decided to mark the event by building a replica of one of Columbus’ ships, the Santa Maria. An ingenious idea in constructing this full size model is that it will never be bothered by high winds. As the hull is made of concrete it will certainly not be in danger of inadvertently setting sail one windy night.

In deciding where to locate this fair sized vessel, La Palma had a stroke of genius. Why go for the obvious and construct it at the port where there are acres of concrete on which to put it. The guests from the cruise liners could hardly fail to notice it, and with a small entrance fee, it would make a tidy revenue to cover costs at least. And even the most frail and disinterested could hopefully be persuaded to totter down the gangplank to view the museum inside. And with easy parking to boot, that would help all those driving from the airport who could pull in for a viewing as they pass by. But no, all that would be too easy. Instead it is located at the opposite end of the city, where several narrow cobbled streets converge onto rather petite Plaza de Almendras (Almond Square).

And the curious thing is, it is so tucked away that you could visit the city and still miss it! So whilst you are shopping and sightseeing, make sure to keep a careful watch out for ships ahoy.

Wednesday, 28 November 2007

Remember me


I will be the first to admit that La Palma likes nothing better than a jolly good fiesta. In fact almost anything, noteworthy or not, has its own special day.

To my mind, one of the most inspired and unlikely fiestas – therefore winning my undying admiration – is the Day of the Deceased. Better known to most of us as All Saints Day, it is a time dedicated to those who have gone on before. On this special day, the 1st November, practically the only shop you will find open in an otherwise dormant island is the flourishing florist (it’s an ill wind …). Happily for them, it is a time when Palmerans say it with flowers.

Actually, the Palmerans seem to have developed a wonderful fact of life attitude with regard to death. It is hard to distinguish a group of casually dressed people gathering for a funeral from a jolly club outing. Indeed, the whole process of death here in La Palma, or rather that which immediately follows the final curtain, bears a little examining. ‘Swift’ would probably sum it up quite nicely. From the point where a person is pronounced dead and the funeral taking place is generally a breathtaking 16 to 24 hours. While sometimes traumatically sudden, this does of course cut out agonising decisions as to whether more distant relatives can, could or should attend the funeral and the time consuming selection of appropriate hymns. It does make me think though that long blinks should be avoided at all costs.

A rather improbable venue for a celebration then, the cemetery becomes a hive of activity, with swathes of people turning up every few minutes with arms full of flowers. Groups of cheerful villagers trim, tweak and tidy the blooms into beautiful arrangements, sprays and posies with which they decorate the ancient graves and tiered vaults. In a jamboree of festive colour, a celebration of life gradually blossoms.

And so, on the 1st November, there really is no better place to head than to the cemetery for a bitter-sweet experience of remembering and celebrating all rolled into one.

It really is a question of flower and glory, for ever and ever.

I think we can say Amen to that.