Sábado Santo

I (Neil) awoke to the sound of the city clock bell chiming - such a reassuring sound, connecting this day to days and years before it, and to come. This was followed soon after by the plaintive cry of a gull, a reminder that Almería is located on the coast - the southern edge of Spain, of Europe. And this relates to our intention for today, which is to walk to the edge and dip our feet in the Mediterranean Sea. Years earlier, I, like St Paul, I had been shipwrecked in this sea, on the very same island of Malta as it turned out… [at which point Sarah interrupts transmission, telling me to get on with it …] Hmm, yes, where was I? That’s right… wetting our feet!! 😁*

The Camino Mozárabe crosses Spain from the mid south to the north-west corner. In about 60 days, I hope to have passed through Santiago de Compostela and walked on to Muxia where I will again dip my feet in the sea - the Atlantic Ocean. Somehow it just feels significant to do this at both ends of the Way - hence today’s intention.

Here Holy Saturday seems basically a normal day - shops are open, people are out and about on the streets and there’s no procession scheduled for tonight. We’re still trying to get a feel for what Easter means to people generally. There’s a fair bit of movement in and around churches, but it’s hard to tell if there are specific services on. Sometimes we come across groups of women dressed in black mantillas and lace - one such group of very attractive younger women looked straight out of a fashion show and were having photos taken on the steps of the church, a bit like a wedding!! The processions are extraordinary - vast crowds gather to watch in the streets. [Nb. If you look closely at the wall near the Attencion sign you’ll see a yellow arrow- the first way marker of our Camino.]

And the crowds spontaneously hush themselves once the procession starts. But the floats seem to bear only a tangential relationship to the Easter story, and Mary as queen of heaven seems the culmination of it all. 

These processions go on for hours and seem elaborately choreographed - long after we’d finished dinner we came across them still parading and the crowds undiminished, and the music of the band could be heard as we dropped off to sleep. 

In the streets at least, it’s hard to feel what it all means for people. They seem at once engaged and respectful, and yet somehow at a distance. We’ve been wondering a bit about just being in the flow or the orbit of something - as if the community observance bears the event, and that’s enough. 

As for us last night, after watching the first part of the Good Friday procession near our lodgings, we had dinner at a tiny family run Moroccan restaurant near the Alcazaba. We arrived at 9pm to find the family itself still eating - it’s Ramadan, and the sun sets late, so they were just breaking their fast. They apologised that our food would take a little longer, but it was yummy when it arrived!!

We’ve had a wonderful day at the waterfront. 

The Mediterranean was sparkling.

We’re finishing this post after a late afternoon siesta - the Spanish rhythm of the day seems to suit us!! So grateful for these days of rest and play, and it’s lovely to be able to share it with you. 

Love Sarah and Neil

* Editor’s note. In 1963, I was sailing (aged 5) with my parents to Australia from England on the P&O liner, Canberra. As we entered the Mediterranean (to get to the Suez Canal) one of the four engines caught fire and everything was shut down. We managed in time to limp to Malta where everyone was unloaded and packed on planes to fly the rest of the journey.