Don Quixote has made the old windmills of Spain famous for the past four hundred years, but new Spanish windmills are now achieving a prominence of their own. Spain's national newspaper, El País, reported this week that on March 5 windmills generated enough energy to meet 29% of the demand for electricity at 11:10 in the morning, and more than 40% of the demand during several of the early morning hours.
Windmill farms with a hundred or more mills are a common site when driving across the plains, though usually only a small portion of the mills are operating. Indeed, the country's windmill network was only functioning at 74.5% capacity when the March 5 record was established.
The bigger news that El País reported, however, was that in the months of January and February, Spain exceeded the goal of generating 30% of its electricity with the renewable sources of wind and water. In 2001 the European Union established a target for its member countries to satisfy 29.4% of their electrical needs with renewable sources by 2010. Though Spain experienced favorable conditions of wind and rain in the first two months of this year--as well as diminished electricity demand due to the economic crisis--it appears to be well on its way to maintaining its place as one of the leaders of renewable energy production and management. According to El País, only 10% of electricity in the U.S. is generated by renewable sources, and in the UK, it's less than 5%.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
First Bike Ride of the Season
This second March Sunday morning in Spain was perfect for bike riding, and I have a new bicycle. Petty theft happens here, especially when you get careless. Someone climbed over the four-foot wall surrounding our terrace in December, picked up two bicycles that we had forgotten to lock that night, and somehow passed them over to the other side. Since then I have been without a bike.
This time I bought a folding bike. We are no longer living in the house with the terrace and four-foot wall, but now on the second floor of an apartment building with a small four-person elevator. The collapsible bike, when folded up, can be carried into the elevator for trips down from and up to the always-locked apartment. With some difficulty.
Even before we reached the tile-paved promenade at the foot of the half-mile paseo that connects the main street on which we live to the Mediterranean, I knew I was going to be too warm in my turtle-neck and long jeans. I was, but there was too much life going on to turn back and change, or even to run back and pick up the camera we forgot. At 11:00 AM, the promenade was full of people of all ages enjoying the sun and fresh air of a spring Sunday. A bike path runs along the people promenade, and theoretically all bikes follow the bike path and all people on foot are on the wider pavement closer to the Sea. But there are many sorts of wheeled vehicles to contend with. At any point in time, regardless of where you are walking or riding, you may meet:
We were headed to Aguadulce, a small village immediately to the north, perhaps seven or eight miles away. We stopped on the southern perimeter for our traditional snack of café con leche and tostada and a rest in the sun. Normally we would have continued all the way through Aguadulce, but I'm still getting used to the straight-across handlebars and the hand brakes on this bike, and I could also tell that I was feeling the effects of even this short ride in my legs, so we'll leave that for another day.
By the time we made our way back, the sheep were long gone.
This time I bought a folding bike. We are no longer living in the house with the terrace and four-foot wall, but now on the second floor of an apartment building with a small four-person elevator. The collapsible bike, when folded up, can be carried into the elevator for trips down from and up to the always-locked apartment. With some difficulty.
Even before we reached the tile-paved promenade at the foot of the half-mile paseo that connects the main street on which we live to the Mediterranean, I knew I was going to be too warm in my turtle-neck and long jeans. I was, but there was too much life going on to turn back and change, or even to run back and pick up the camera we forgot. At 11:00 AM, the promenade was full of people of all ages enjoying the sun and fresh air of a spring Sunday. A bike path runs along the people promenade, and theoretically all bikes follow the bike path and all people on foot are on the wider pavement closer to the Sea. But there are many sorts of wheeled vehicles to contend with. At any point in time, regardless of where you are walking or riding, you may meet:
- tricycles
- roller skates
- children's bikes with training wheels
- wheelchairs, pushed not by the occupant
- motorized scooters, driven by the occupant
- baby strollers, pushed by parent or grandparent
- double-wide baby strollers holding the large number of sets of twins in Spain
- sedately moving two-wheeled bikes, ridden by pensioners or those approaching that age
- racing bikes, usually controlled by young Spanish men passing you by at breathtaking speeds
- the occasional motorcycle
- a few cars and camping vans, making their way to the wide beach front between the promenade and the Sea
We were headed to Aguadulce, a small village immediately to the north, perhaps seven or eight miles away. We stopped on the southern perimeter for our traditional snack of café con leche and tostada and a rest in the sun. Normally we would have continued all the way through Aguadulce, but I'm still getting used to the straight-across handlebars and the hand brakes on this bike, and I could also tell that I was feeling the effects of even this short ride in my legs, so we'll leave that for another day.
By the time we made our way back, the sheep were long gone.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Burying the Sardine
The first street parade I saw in Spain appeared without warning just below our living room balcony on a Sunday afternoon in spring five years ago. We sprang from the dinner table to watch colorful floats, marching bands, and young people in vibrant costumes parade down the main street of town. At the time we didn't have the slightest idea of why the procession included a large papier-mâché fish borne on the shoulders of four young men, but we came to believe it was a custom unique to Roquetas, which until 25 or 30 years ago was a small fishing village.Since then, we have learned that this particular parade, Entierro de la Sardina, happens annually, on Sunday or Ash Wednesday, as the culmination of Carnaval, just before the beginning of Lent. There are parades like this in towns and cities all over Spain, and the fish is not unique to Roquetas. In fact, they carry a large fish--a sardine--in all the Entierro de la Sardina parades. This year I have done some research and discovered that they do, in fact, burn and bury the sardine each year at the conclusion of the parade. That would explain why it always looks a little different each year.
The funeral procession for the sardine has a spiritual significance. The sardine itself seems to represent sins and vices, the sense of abandon expressed in the festival--and it is true that the noise, dance, and some costumes rival those I have seen in Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans. The cremation of the fish represents cleansing and liberation. The interment of the sardine, then, is a symbol of the burial of the past and subsequent rebirth of spirit--renewed, transformed and more forceful and powerful.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Alcazaba in Almería
The Alcazaba in Almería rises high over the city and cannot be missed when approaching Almería from the west, which is the direction from which you drive when coming from Roquetas. We've been to the Alcazaba a few times before and found it to be a pleasant and ever-changing experience. The grounds of this ancient fortress and castle, dating from the 10th century, are well-maintained, with the terracing, water pools, gardens, and patios common to Moorish dwellings. Now that spring seems to be arriving in southern Spain, I was hoping to see some colorful flowers, different from the ones I had seen on previous trips in high summer and mid-winter.Every time I had previously visited the Alcazaba there were several workmen present doing restoration work, and some areas were off-limits for visits. The only workmen I saw this time were gardeners who were busy pruning the various green plantings--bougainvillea and lavender hedges provided most of the color at this time, but I know that later there will be lots of roses. I hope the current economic crisis has not halted restoration of the Alcazaba, which has gathered much support from the European Union (EU citizens receive free admission, but no one checks passports).
It's impossible to walk the entire grounds in one visit. This time I saw a complete restoration of a Moorish home, with central patio and surrounding salon, bedrooms, and cooking area, all furnished with typical mattresses, tapestries, pots and ceramics, with detailed signage, though only in Spanish. One larger room is always devoted to a contemporary art exhibit, and though I've not yet attended, there are occasional musical concerts within the grounds.
As with most historical sites in Spain, no single civilization can lay exclusive claim to the Alcazaba. Though the structure currently standing was built in the 10th century by the Moors and exhibits mostly an Arab face, the Romans got there first, specifically the Carthaginians. Roman baths were being re-excavated the last time I was there, and last Friday the area had been cleaned up but is still waiting for some interpretation. The Christians laid claim to the area briefly during the 12 century and again later at the end of the 15th century, Los Reyes Católicos, Ferdinand and Isabella, expanded the fortress to defend their faith against the Moors. This visit I made it over to the far side of the monument, where the high stone walls have the usual round holes carved out to let cannon balls through, in case predators attempt to approach. They make good peep-holes these days through which one can view the lovely Almería harbor. But the cross on the top of the cannon hole serves as a good means of reminding modern visitors that it is not the Muslims alone who have waged holy wars.
The Princess of Canton, Ohio
We started out last Friday morning to visit the Alcazaba in Almería city but needed a cup of coffee to strengthen us for the steep walk. At 10:30 AM, folks were streaming in to a dark cafetería on Calle Real near the corner of Calle Infanta, so we joined the crowd, even though we had to wait a couple minutes for a table. There was plenty to look at while we waited. For no apparent reason, the walls were covered with ancient barnboard and pictures of old advertisements from the United States of the nineteenth century.
We found a place at a narrow wooden table that looked as though it once had been a wooden sewing machine base; on the end was a metal plate advertising Sears, Roebuck & Company. But what took my attention while we sipped our café con leche and shared a media tostada con atún y tomáte was the huge poster, composed of five broad barnboard planks, depicting "The Princess of Canton, Ohio."
We found a place at a narrow wooden table that looked as though it once had been a wooden sewing machine base; on the end was a metal plate advertising Sears, Roebuck & Company. But what took my attention while we sipped our café con leche and shared a media tostada con atún y tomáte was the huge poster, composed of five broad barnboard planks, depicting "The Princess of Canton, Ohio."
On a separate poster I read that the Princess Plow Company was the successor to the Gibbs & Ball Plow Company and laid claim to being "Queen of the Turf" and "Pride of the Farm." But there was competition: An adjoining wall showed a much smaller announcement from Plano, Illinois, boasting that "We have captured the Gold Medal at the World's Industrial Exposition. Simplicity of construction. Small number of working parts....Good materials." I could not find the name of the Gold Medal manufacturer, and there was no mention of date or location of the World's Industrial Exposition.
Back at my desk this Sunday in Spain, I've determined that the World's Industrial Exposition was likely that held in New Orleans in 1884-85. The Miami University Libraries have put photos of some Victorian Trade Cards of the Princess Plow Co., up on flickr, and there are others available on eBay. And an Encyclopedia of American Farm Implements & Antiques, by Charles H. Wendel (2004), lists two Princess plows: one from the Carnegie Plow & Mfg Co., of Carnegie, PA in 1905, the other from the Princess Plow Co. of Canton, OH in 1892.
Perhaps the Princess Plow Co. improved on the Gold Medal winner at the World's Industrial Exposition. In any case, I know more about 19th-century farm equipment manufacturers, and Canton, Ohio, now than I did before stopping for a cup of coffee last Friday morning.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Roquetas de Mar
Very careful readers of this blog may have noticed a subtle change in subtitle. I started writing Sundays in Spain when we were living temporarily on Spain's Costa Blanca, near Torrevieja, in Alicante province on the east coast. We have recently moved back to the original place we started living in Spain more than five years ago, Roquetas de Mar. We have a large apartment in Roquetas that we have decided to sell, but like most real estate worldwide these days, it's not moving at lightning speed. Until such time as we sell and return to the Costa Blanca, we decided to settle once again in Roquetas, which is not at all a bad place to be.
Roquetas de Mar is located in the province of Almería, which in turn is a part of the comunidad of Andalucía, that broad region at the south of Spain that extends almost all the way from its eastern to its western border. The capital city of Almería is also named Almería and is a short twenty-minute drive by car or local bus from Roquetas center. Roquetas itself has about 80,000 inhabitants, spread among the villages of Aguadulce, El Parador, Roquetas old town, and the Roquetas urbanization (resort). It sits just next to the desert of Tabernas and in the midst of thousands of invernaderos, plastic greenhouses, which give three growing seasons for the agricultural industry that, with tourism, supports the area's economy.
I've written previously about the underground tunnels below Almería, and you will no doubt hear more about Almería, Roquetas, and Andalucía, in the weeks ahead.
Roquetas de Mar is located in the province of Almería, which in turn is a part of the comunidad of Andalucía, that broad region at the south of Spain that extends almost all the way from its eastern to its western border. The capital city of Almería is also named Almería and is a short twenty-minute drive by car or local bus from Roquetas center. Roquetas itself has about 80,000 inhabitants, spread among the villages of Aguadulce, El Parador, Roquetas old town, and the Roquetas urbanization (resort). It sits just next to the desert of Tabernas and in the midst of thousands of invernaderos, plastic greenhouses, which give three growing seasons for the agricultural industry that, with tourism, supports the area's economy.
I've written previously about the underground tunnels below Almería, and you will no doubt hear more about Almería, Roquetas, and Andalucía, in the weeks ahead.
"Tu Papel es Importante"
One of the first public phrases that I thought I understood in Spanish was the polite "Tu papel es importante" sign on the paper recycling container, reminding all that "Your paper is important." In other words, please place your used paper here, not in the general trash bin; recycling is important, and you can help.
Recycling containers of all types are ubiquitous throughout Spain. On practically every block you will find a long string of large containers in the street. Yellow containers are for Envases, including plastic containers for soft drinks; the heavy-duty tetra/brik boxes for milk; tin and aluminum food cans. The blue-accented "Tu papel es importante" containers are for most clean papers: newspapers, magazines, office paper, cereal boxes, cardboard, and carton. Green containers are for glass: wine bottles, beer bottles, glass jars that formerly held olives, condiments, and other prepared foodstuffs. Finally in the lineup come the "Other" containers, the army-green dumpsters for whatever else you may have to throw away--encased in a plastic bag, of course--which often means garbage, otherwise known as basura, from uneaten food, etc.
Signs often limit the dumping of basura to 8:00 PM to 10:00 PM at night, for sanitary purposes, especially in the hot summer months. In truth, this admonition is not always observed, and in truth, it may not be so important that it is. Invariably, an army of trash collectors descends on the common trash containers every single night, lifting the contents into a huge container truck and returning the container itself to its proper place in line. A battalion of uniformed foot soldiers follows along, tidying up any spills and leftovers that the careless public or a strong wind may have left outside the container. Depending on where you live, trash collection occurs usually between midnight and 2:00 AM--you can set your clock by it. There seem to be no holidays for the trash collector army--they are there seven nights a week and on Christmas and New Year's and every other of the many Spanish fiesta days.
There are disadvantages to having so many trash and recycling bins in so many prominent places throughout metropolitan and village spaces. Pretty they are not, even when they are well-maintained. It's hard to see around the lineup to find out whether a bus or cars are coming down the road. And they take up far too many parking spots.
But the advantage is that, with a bank of trash and recycling containers within walking distance of everyone, no one can make the excuse that recycling is too hard or too inconvenient. No one has to drive a car to the recycling center or the town dump. The containers are a visible, convenient, and ubiquitous reminder that we all dispose of stuff and should do so responsibly.
Which brings me to the double meaning of the sign on the paper recycling container. As I developed my Spanish, I learned that papel is not just paper; a papel is also a role, or a part in a play or theater piece. Participation.
Tu papel es importante. Your paper is important, Your role is important.
Recycling containers of all types are ubiquitous throughout Spain. On practically every block you will find a long string of large containers in the street. Yellow containers are for Envases, including plastic containers for soft drinks; the heavy-duty tetra/brik boxes for milk; tin and aluminum food cans. The blue-accented "Tu papel es importante" containers are for most clean papers: newspapers, magazines, office paper, cereal boxes, cardboard, and carton. Green containers are for glass: wine bottles, beer bottles, glass jars that formerly held olives, condiments, and other prepared foodstuffs. Finally in the lineup come the "Other" containers, the army-green dumpsters for whatever else you may have to throw away--encased in a plastic bag, of course--which often means garbage, otherwise known as basura, from uneaten food, etc.
Signs often limit the dumping of basura to 8:00 PM to 10:00 PM at night, for sanitary purposes, especially in the hot summer months. In truth, this admonition is not always observed, and in truth, it may not be so important that it is. Invariably, an army of trash collectors descends on the common trash containers every single night, lifting the contents into a huge container truck and returning the container itself to its proper place in line. A battalion of uniformed foot soldiers follows along, tidying up any spills and leftovers that the careless public or a strong wind may have left outside the container. Depending on where you live, trash collection occurs usually between midnight and 2:00 AM--you can set your clock by it. There seem to be no holidays for the trash collector army--they are there seven nights a week and on Christmas and New Year's and every other of the many Spanish fiesta days.
There are disadvantages to having so many trash and recycling bins in so many prominent places throughout metropolitan and village spaces. Pretty they are not, even when they are well-maintained. It's hard to see around the lineup to find out whether a bus or cars are coming down the road. And they take up far too many parking spots.
But the advantage is that, with a bank of trash and recycling containers within walking distance of everyone, no one can make the excuse that recycling is too hard or too inconvenient. No one has to drive a car to the recycling center or the town dump. The containers are a visible, convenient, and ubiquitous reminder that we all dispose of stuff and should do so responsibly.
Which brings me to the double meaning of the sign on the paper recycling container. As I developed my Spanish, I learned that papel is not just paper; a papel is also a role, or a part in a play or theater piece. Participation.
Tu papel es importante. Your paper is important, Your role is important.
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