A few weeks into the new year and Órgiva’s town hall have finally returned from the local café, and – with the input of the Andalucía tourist board – have produced…er…something: Sencillamente Órgiva – Simply Órgiva. (Whenever we see the word ‘simply’ we always think of the fine sausage company from years ago in London, but enough of that.)
Sencillamente Órgiva is a 3-minute promo film taking in the various sights of a town which, while the working heart of the Eastern Alpujarra in Granada province, doesn’t quite match the cuteness of its neighbours like Lanjarón and Pampaneira. But after all, people still need to buy fridges and take their dogs to the vet.
It must have taken the creative types at least…let’s see…the time to drink a café con leche, to come up with the concept. Patrick arrives at Granada airport in a suspiciously fast-moving queue to passport control, to be met by a taxi driver holding a sign saying ‘Órgiva’ – an amazing coincidence that Patrick’s surname is the same as the place he’s visiting. The taxi driver is, in fact, his tourist guide, Alex.
They start in the centre of Órgiva, seemingly empty of people, and admire the mural on Plaza de la Alpujarra before exploring the back streets. Rafa, a talented local ceramicist based in Las Barreras (his mini-workshop opposite Jamones Rosillo is worth a visit), demonstrates his skills before they pop into a bakery and visit the church which was actually open the day he visited, a one-in-360 chance (ignoring funerals).
Other jewels of the town – the Ermita de San Sebastián and the library of Don Quixote books – also feature. After chartering a helicopter they visit El Viejo Molino for a slap-up meal on plates of different shapes. Patrick returns to his room, alone, with his camera and without a change of clothes.
The next day they take a walk through the magical olive groves that sit beneath the Sierra de Lújar, chat by the Seven Eye Bridge as the Río Guadelfeo bubbles beneath, and stare down on Órgiva from that spooky cave on the way up to Soportújar.
It ends with Alex smiling at Patrick and there’s a collective sigh of relief that Alex hasn’t ended up buried somewhere near Cañar, never to be found again.
We think that the promo is a bit of a wasted opportunity. The producers play safe and approach it like past films of the area: dramatic music, drone shots from above, an absence of ‘normal’ Spanish and non-Spanish people in all their diverse and wonderful ways.
Why not get soundbites from people who actually live here and love the place, introduce some fun into proceedings, show-off places like Baraka and La Almazara – and update the music? It’s probably because the people in charge of directing the promo simply frequent the places featured, like El Viejo Molino.
See what you think (or you could boil an egg).
© con jamón spain