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Wednesday 13 August 2008

The Battle of Lepanto


Every 3 years, Barlovento in the north west of the island stages the re-enactment of the naval Battle of Lepanto. It is a spectacle which is the highlight of the two week fiesta held between 31st July and 15th August in honour of Nuestra SeƱora del Rosario, our Lady of the Rosary, the patron saint of Barlovento. In fact, the re-enactment of the battle of Lepanto (Italian name of the Greek port from where the Ottomans had their naval base) which happened in 1571, is a great tradition in Barlovento and is the only place in the Canaries to celebrate it and therefore a claim to fame for the town.
The Battle of Lepanto between the Holy League (which comprised the Knights of Malta, Spain, the Papal States, republic of Genoa, the Duchy of Savoy, the republic of Venice and others) and the main fleet of the Ottoman war galleys gave control to the Holy League over the Mediterranean and prevented the Ottomans from entering Europe. It was fought solely from rowing vessels (around 500 in total), involved around 23,000 dead, wounded or captured, 10,000 Christian slaves released and, according to some historians, was one of the world’s most decisive battles since 31 BC.
The Holy League credited the victory to the Virgin Mary to whose intercession with God they had implored for victory through the use of the Rosary. A new feast day was instituted which is now called the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary and this is why Barlovento has the honour to represent it.
The spectacle started with Our Lady of The Rosary being carried from the church in all her glory and prayers being said. We then watched transfixed, if one can be for an hour, as the Christians slowly swayed themselves and their boat across the surrounding fields of Barlovento. The Moors meanwhile, protecting their castle on the far hill, squabbled amongst themselves either out of boredom, historical accuracy or an attempt to entertain the crowds, which I must say, it did. The Christians eventually arrived at the castle in their boat which sported impressively large sails and was surrounded by several Turk boats. Following the 'sinking' of a couple of the boats, an vigorous and 'bloody' battle then ensued along with numerous explosions which literally threw the soil into the air creating large dust clouds.
Eventually, after having leapt up several times, the Moors were conquered, taken as prisoner and dragged off to the church to be converted to Catholicism.
Well done Barlovento and all who took part. It was an impressive performance and followed – of course – by much music and merriment far into the night.
For more photos check out http://www.photobox.co.uk/album/60703095

Sunday 3 August 2008

Who is calling, please?


A walk on La Palma is not like a walk anywhere else I know.

What brings this about I wonder. Is it the diversity of the scenery, the views, the stillness? Well, yes in a way. These very things are all brought about by the landscape which could be described as harsh yet beautiful. It depends on your point of view – whether you are a keen walker with plenty of time on your hands and keen to explore or a subsistence farmer with 10 hungry children to feed and inhospitable land on which to grow your crops.

One thing is for sure though, life was hard in the old days with families scattered across the unyielding countryside. Communication could therefore be a problem when you lived practically in the middle of nowhere.

But for us casual hikers, there is an almost guaranteed surprise to be found on some part of almost any route. This photo was taken on a walk from La Zarza to Santo Domingo. Having left San Antonio and any possible civilization, we were soon in a desolate wilderness with nothing but undulating countryside and long abandoned terraces. There were no hamlets in sight, let alone villages, and no sign of habitation except one elderly man sitting silently outside his remote house apparently also looking at the emptiness. After another half hour or so of walking, there stood a second house made of local rocks and tea wood, the heart of the pine tree. It looked abandoned (as do many of the inhabited houses deep in the country) and we headed toward it to seek some shade in which to enjoy our picnic.

It was in fact abandoned, but imagine our surprise to discover that it once hosted the local telephone. In its time, it was doubtless an incredible boon to anyone who would be glad to walk however many hours to get to it. An amazing advancement.

And now deserted, no longer of use. Quite sad, but beautiful in its way, and it felt special to discover this evidence of a past way of life even, or especially, in this remote outpost.

It seemed to quietly say, ‘it wasn’t always like this you know.’