Wish you were here

You might think nothing ever happens around here.  Well, you'd be wrong!  Take Sunday for example - around 5 o'clock not only do the church bells ring which is pretty exciting in itself but also we get to see the weekly crossing of the cruise liner on its way from La Palma to Madiera.  This photo was taken yesterday overlooking our roofs at a time when it would be dark in the UK.
Bet those people on board were really sorry to be leaving La Palma because I don't imagine Madeira can be nearly as much fun. 

Figs galore

It's fig season.
I can't say that I had a lot to do with figs before I came to La Palma, except maybe when I might buy some dried figs from the supermarket at Christmas.  So no, I can't say that fresh figs had a starring role in my life before - but now, wow, I love them!

And that's a good thing because we have 32 fig trees on our west facing terraces. The terraces, seven of them, are all quite narrow due to the steepness of the land and it's good to have these trees growing with their network of fine roots holding the soil together.  The leaves have nearly all fallen off now we are approaching autumn but many of the trees still have plenty of fruit on.

Some of the figs are a bright green colour and others a deep purple, a mix on the same tree.  At first, we collected them and took them to the wholesaler about 40 minutes drive away.  He picked through them and informed us that only about half were any good - some were not ripe enough and they don't ripen once taken from the tree, and others were too ripe, so in fact there are only a couple of days difference.  Quite a delicate operation. 

We did return again with another batch and did much better with around eighty percent being accepted but after that we decided to dry them and then eat them. 

Nowadays, we eat them fresh from the tree while they are still warm from the sun.  Or we put them in the fridge so make a refreshing snack.  Of course, there are plenty for our friends and guests.

And then, there are our other friends, the chickens who are very partial to a fig and in fact their run incorporates a fig tree, although it never has any figs on it and its main benefit for them is the shade and for perching on. 

Canarian Proverb: Never fall asleep under the fig tree.  (Don't tell the chickens)

  

The micro

One of the things that I love most about Los Machines in Franceses is the width of the street because it is definitely of the single track variety.  If you time it right, you will spot the bus squeezing through.  The locals don't call it the 'bus' though, nor the 'guagua' but the 'micro.'  Of course, it was all built long before cars - and heaven forbid, buses - were even considered as a mode of transport in the north.  If a couple of fully-laden donkeys could pass each other, then there was enough room.

But the bus service here is surprisingly good with a two-hourly service throughout the day beginning at 6 am and finishing at 8.30 pm (weekdays).  This is vastly improved from the previous service of only three buses a day.   Nowadays, we use the bus service quite frequently to either take us to a start point for a walk or to take us back to the car or home.  

And whilst there are bus stops across the north, the micro will happily stop for you anywhere providing that you are standing in a place safe for it to stop and that he sees you.  Make sure you raise your hand and, if in doubt, jump up and down too!

Revving up

On Saturday, whilst in Barlovento, we happened to stumble across a gathering hosted by the Association of Motorbike Riders, La Palma.  This was a slight surprise as generally you don't see many motorbikes on the island and certainly not in big gatherings.  However, judging by the bikes there, they had certainly managed to amass a good deal of support, not just from La Palma, but also from the other islands, notably Gran Canaria.  So ... given that David and I used to have motorbikes, we both had more than a passing interest in them.  

What first got the camera out was a bright orange Honda GoldWing with a flat six-cylinder engine of 1,832 cc.  I guess that would do most people - with a spare 25,000 euros.  Well, I suppose the computer controlled rear suspension, cruise control, slow speed reverse and airbag might cushion the blow.  But really - heated seats and handlebars!

The classic Triumph 900 was a little more reminiscent of our day when the heating source came from four extra jumpers and as many pairs of socks as you could get on.   But come to think of it, on La Palma, we are more used to seeing motorbike riders in T-shirt, shorts and flip flops than cold weather gear and leathers.

If the classics and superbikes created interest (in the form of lustful looks and  unseemly drooling) there was one bike, the 'SALVAJE' (meaning, wild) that hit upon a difference.  The reaction was all smiles.

But try as I might, I couldn't find a representation of my old bike there.  Ah yes, my trusty Suzuki A100 with a top speed of 60 mph ... think I'd rather have the Salvaje actually. 

Dancing Dwarves

At last – my first dwarf!!! I am thrilled. Yes, eight years on La Palma and still not a single dwarf spotted, except as a fridge magnet or cuddly toy ... up until last night.

You see, we are now in the 'semana grande,' the big week, of the huge fiesta where one of the many highlights is the dancing dwarves. Apparently, according to a friend, they live in the mountains except for this one night when they come down into town, disguised as bishops. And this only happens once every five years so you can imagine the excitement with thousands of people coming to see the spectacle not just from La Palma but from all over the Canary Islands. After their appearance on stage solemnly singing, they file into a castle-like tent and reappear ... as dancing dwarves.

I agree that it is one of the stranger happenings on La Palma but it is made all the more crazy by the dotty little dance, giant sized hats and face masks which hide their true identity (although you could probably guess that if you saw a dwarf in his civvies they would be of the special La Palma dancing variety.)  The dwarves perform six times during the evening, 7 pm, 8pm, 10pm, 11pm, 12pm and 1am and then, by way of a marathon encore, dance their way right along the length of the main street.

When we arrived at 7 pm, courtesy of one of the many coaches laid on from all points of the island, the queues to see the spectacle were enormous – and these people already had tickets which are a sell-out way in advance - they were just eager to get a 'good' seat. 

We were further amazed to see people already lining the main street where they had installed themselves either by sitting on the pavement reading a book, playing cards or chatting. Or better still, on little stools, cool box at the ready.  These people – incredibly - were waiting for the dwarves who would not appear on the street until some point after 1am.  A six hour wait is well beyond my comprehension but it is a reflection of the passion felt for the event.

So, being ticketless, we took up our place at one of the many vantage points and even being pretty far away, you still got the happy feeling that dancing dwarves give you.  

Of course, other than the dwarves, there was plenty else to see and do. Belly dancers were performing in the road. A fun fair in the car park. Shops open where you can buy, amongst other things, dwarf memorabilia. Impromptu guitar playing in bars. Eating, drinking and people watching from the pavement restaurants. An open-air nightclub overlooking the sea. And a band with huge stage for the middle of the night when the dwarves have disappeared back up to the mountains.

At 12.30 am we jumped into a coach to head for the hills ourselves. We were pretty much dwarf-ed out by then but not so other people who were waiting at the bus stop in Los Sauces at 1am for the bus that would take them down to the capital.  But for the next time – in five years – we are going to be there for the long haul. 

Gosh, I'm excited already.