We got up early and headed for Las Barreras to the west of Órgiva, it’s where our walk to Lanjarón begins.
The strong winds of yesterday had died down by this morning. It meant a thousand bonfires were lit in the valley, filling the air with smoke for as far as you could see. For a while the base of the Sierra de Lújar was shrouded in a cloak of grey. It swirled around like a 1920s black and white film – a flamenco dancer’s dress captured in slow motion.
Anyone jogging, drying their clothes on the line or using a ventilator wouldn’t have been happy. But it is el campo after all.
In no time we were alone among olive and almond trees. Damp, smouldering bonfires littered the orchards, although no one was around to tend to them, it seemed. The fires must end in a few months, in the spring.
In the distance, loud explosions could be heard on the mountain – mining activity. Seconds later, tufts of white appeared as if the rock was blowing smoke rings.
Back home we realised our clothes smelt of smoke. But that moment held its own promise; an evening by our own fire (billowing, choking smoke guaranteed).
© con jamón spain