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To The Finca! Part I
If you haven't already done so, you might want to check the previous installment of Mel's Finca adventure before reading on...Phew, I have so much to tell you I don’t know how I’m going to fit it all in. The first finca working party story would put Enid Blyton to shame; there are picnics, abandoned wells, secret passages, castles, hidden lakes and lashings of ginger beer. OK I lied about the ginger but the rest is all true!
Chapter 1 - The stranger, the abandoned well and castle number one
We started out with the famous five: me, my boy Jamie, Triston, Ben and Bear, and climbing in the cab at 3am one Sunday morning in May we headed for the airport with tents carefully packed and our thoughts on the fun to come. Landing in Reus 6 hours later the sun was shining and we looked set for a wonderful week. Our first set back came when we couldn’t find a shop open to buy food, we had no lunch, nothing to barbecue for dinner and, more importantly, no beer. Oh no. Luckily Ben spotted an open garage with a little shop. The poor shop keeper must have wondered what was happening as the five of us ran riot in the garage grabbing everything we fancied and shouting to each other. Then to the finca!
Just as we were sitting down to lunch a strange man walked through the finca. ‘Hola’ we shouted and he waved in a friendly way but carried on. Jamie and I followed him to find out who he was and what he was doing there. He said he was the brother of the lady we had bought the finca from; we had an agreement that her family could still have access to water on the property. He explained that the winter had been very dry and he was checking the level of the well, he showed us the cover for a new, modern well close to the river. The well was higher up apparently being old and abandoned many years ago. He didn’t hang around and I wasn’t quite sure of his story, I don’t know why but the presence of the stranger left me feeling uneasy.
But there was no time to dwell on it, we could see for ourselves that there hadn’t been much rain, the river level was even lower than at the end of last summer and we were concerned that we wouldn’t be able to bathe in it as planned. We decided to pitch camp in the lower field, closer to the river, in the hope that it would be slightly damper than the field we’d camped in before so that sparks from our camp fire wouldn’t cause problems. Then almost before I knew it I had to travel to Reus again so that the famous five could become the secret seven as Fish and the Fairy joined us. We agreed that I would have another look at the local shops to see if I could get provisions for dinner and if not we would put on clean clothes and hit the 5 star splendour of the parador in Tortossa for dinner.
So into the vaulted dining hall we fell, the tempting aromas and ladies in unbecoming waistcoats welcoming us to the castle in Tortossa’s old town. Food and wine was ordered and swallowed and the cares of the journey fell away. Never mind that the river was low, never mind the strange man, never mind that the shops were shut, we were here and in Spain and it was all going to be fun.
Chapter 2 - Food glorious food
Monday morning started like every morning in the hills, cloudy but with the promise of a warm day. Jamie, Triston and I were on shopping detail, not only was there food to buy but tools too. We also wondered if we could find the camping shop as we would need more water carriers and as Rosie had packed only a single inflatable mattress, it would be good to get a new double one if her and Fish were to enjoy their holiday. We left the others getting to work on the swathes of bamboo that surround the finca and hit the large supermarket in Tortossa. What fun we had loading the basket with everything we could find that we thought might come in useful, including the whole leg of ham complete with trotter. We found the camping shop and were able to get a new mattress but the tools were elusive as were the water carriers. We headed back to the car with our finds and I was pleased to see the market still open. Triston is a complete foodie too and we just couldn’t resist a mooch around. I love Spanish markets and this one was a very good example, not as pretty as the Boqueria in Barcelona but full of good local produce and charming stall holders. Back to the finca with the spoils and lunch before another airport trip, this time to collect Sam and Mummybear Sue. The others had worked hard all morning and cleared the bamboo from around the well and we were off to a fantastic start. When I returned from the airport with the two additional campers the boys and the Fairy were full of the discovery of a secret lake, azure blue with frogs and fish where they had swum.
That evening the rain started and I wondered if the spring rains would arrive late and wash us out but before I could find my waterproof jacket it was all over and I set to work barbecuing sausages for the meat eaters and local dorada for the ‘peskies’ as we dubbed the pescatarians. In the supermarket I had been pleased to discover 5 litre containers of the local red wine, so dark they call it ‘black wine’. As I handed it over to Jamie he took one look at the label and asked why I had bought so much vinegar. ‘No, it’s not vinegar, it is vi negre’. At only 4 euros for the 5 litres it was a great bargain and everyone declared it a reasonable glass of wine too. So reasonable that, all 5 litres of vi negre, a whole bottle of gin, two bottles of cava, and a litre of rose wine disappeared rapidly. Then, with the exception of Fish, all the boys and the bottle of brandy disappeared as they decided to explore the tunnels of the nearby via verde (an old railway line) in the dark. Needless to say Tuesday started late.
Armed with a list of required tools I headed for the market and the hardware shops of Tortossa. A little frantically, Fish, Rosie and I did our shopping. Siesta is a fantastic idea until you spend so much time sleeping off last night’s booze that you have to dash around the shops with your hangover before they close. But we managed to get a mattock and a trowel and the ingredients for paella. Secretly I worried about how to cook Paella for 11 over an open fire in the middle of a field. 11? Ah yes, Fi and Glen arrived that day, where was everyone going to sit? But all this was forgotten as I was led to the secret lake. It was quite a scramble to get there but the view as we crossed the last boulder was quite breath-taking. I couldn’t wait to get into the water. Then my breath was taken away again, it was absolutely bloody freezing! I inched myself in watching the birds, dragon flies and fish dart about and chuckling at the calls of the frogs alarmed by our presence. Glen and Fi should be arriving soon, fingers crossed that my directions were OK!
Fish soon got to work wielding his chosen mattock like a pro and before we knew it we had a set of stairs from the house level to the lower terrace, much easier than negotiating that slope! Glen and Fi arrived and we all chuckled at the size of their tent - it was enormous! The paellas turned out fine too. The prawns were as sweet as the fishmonger promised and the chicken from the polloteria, actually tasted of chicken! More vi negre washed it all down and everyone agreed that they were bored of bamboo clearing; tomorrow it was brambles!!
Chapter 3 - Brambles and presents
So Wednesday was bramble day as well as Fi’s birthday. Glen seemed to re-energise the group, he was up at the crack of dawn lighting the camp fire and digging a new and improved latrine and his enthusiasm was infectious. Fi and I headed to market to buy necessities for a proper birthday dinner, cava and cake, and left them to it. Not only did we find the blinkiest of cava (2 euros a bottle) and the creamiest of cakes but also another hardware shop where we were able to obtain a wheelbarrow, spade, and other assorted tools. We caused quite a stir, two English girls walking through town with a loaded wheelbarrow!
When I had left in the morning the first house, La Colmena, nestled into the terrace, brambles covering the bottom couple of feet. Or so I thought. I walked down the track to the finca and as I turned the corner there was a 3 story house, my house! I could see the house, where the terrace for the restaurant would be, it was amazing. My friends were amazing. Here they were, sweaty from work and the heat of the brazier to burn the brambles, scratched, with torn clothes and gloves, tired and thirsty. I cried out of surprise and gratitude. Everyone reported Rosie’s dedication to the fire on such a hot day and I was gob smacked at the difference it had made to the site. It might have been Fi’s birthday but I’d had the best present.
That afternoon Ben, Triston, Bear and Glen decided to go exploring. The other three came back with tales of Glen’s daring do, of life risking leaps and climbs and Glen came back without his shirt. Apparently there is now a tree in Catalunya proudly waving a flag made out of a ‘118 118’ vest.
Jamie and I decided that everyone had worked so hard they deserved a trip to the seaside the next day. So at Fi’s birthday party everyone was in fine spirits as yet more cava, vi negre, gin and herb liqueur disappeared...
Mel Morris
The next installment in Me's Finca adventure is coming very soon!
Written: 7th Jun, 05
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