Fiesta de San Antonio

It's from Velez de Benuadalla that my first blog is born. A village of less than 3000 in the Andalusian mountain range of Spain. It dates back as early as the 9th century. Brilliantly built by the Moors with an immaculate flowing irrigation system for serving the homes, farms and fruit orchards around. Known for sweet treats, the name translates to 'Valley of the Children of Allah. The crusades came through to destroy the culture and it's people, and with the fierce planting of a cross it was reclaimed. Mid June brings a festival in celebration of this slay. But I'm not in Benuadalla for it's history. I am here to cat sit. Her name of which is still unknown to me, for its one I can't pronounce. She doesn't need much, and certainly doesn't hesitate to request, although she does mince words. However, it's really this cat, and this household, that has been doing the favor, giving me a place to stay for a bit, while I have none. Southern Spain was always in the plan, but 10 days turned to 7 weeks, when the summer job I thought I had fell through. Luckily a siesta and tapas lifestyle is one I can settle into. It's oddly not so quiet here. At least not outside this window. Parcel deliveries, produce sales, and socializing in the narrow streets add to the diligent chirping birds. On weekend nights, some of the locals like to add some extra revs in as they ride there motorbikes down the one Main Street. Mariana Pineda street, the one with the church on it of course. The center of the town, and the heart of the festival. I enjoyed the sight of fireworks set off atop the castle up above on the tallest hill. Although I cringed, thinking of the fire hazard in this dry terrain. There was flamenco, a dance I always love, because of how it combines power and sensuality. I love to see how the strumming of the guitar and the steps are fierce and insync. Dancers in the parade were wonderful too, elaborately adorned with sequin and feathers. Men, women and children. The rest of the parade was very sweet, and precious, in that pathetic sorta way. The three princess's appeared to be on their iPhones. The floats were small, and few, three I believe. For costumed characters we had walking by, there was, a Lego man, a Supermario brother, and a very out of season snowman. A few decorated horseman and a small marching band. The whole lot walked through the town in a circle, to go by twice lengthening the celebration. Modest amount of confetti and horseshit laid in it's path. Late night brought the cover-bands out. I was very entertained by the female Freddy Mercury, white pants mustache and all. It was great to see so many elders of the town come out to spin on the dance floor. It's the late late night and outside disco tech that brings out the younger people. I didn't have it in me to stick around once I heard the 'What is Love song, the one of SNL  parody. My pirated in wine was finished anyway. The sound of that bump and grind was unavoidly to be heard throughout the town til seven in the morning. Not one much to participate, I did see it fitting to head back outside to catch the sunrise from the awesome castle viewpoint. Still buzzed, it was there that I mingled briefly with a local still out. The tunes playing from his car told me, he wished to continue the party. But without google translate there wasn't much to say. Probably not much to say anyway. Maybe I'd ask him if his neck tattoo was one he had gotten in prison, over breakfast.