The streets are full of people as smoke from fresh, grilled sardines fills the air – a charcoaled scent of the sea. Pop-up bars selling beer in plastic glasses extend over the pavements and a muffled, looped announcement from the town’s PA is lost in chat and laughter.
Órgiva’s fiesta is in full swing and as horses replace cars on the Avenida González Robles, a caravan – adapted to look like a typical Alpujarran house, white, flat-roofed with a chimney – trundles by.
The old men outside Nemesis 2 bar, sipping brandy and coffee, have their space invaded by thumping music loud enough to wake the dead. And women and girls parade their beautiful dresses. S managed to capture some of them – always asking politely, of course: ¿Es posible hacer una foto de usted?
We happened to be here a year ago and it’s the same party – just with 364 other days in between. Spain seems to be like that: tradition, custom and doing things the way they’ve always been done.
© con jamón spain