Crag Martins

I see our resident Crag Martins all year. They are the only martins I’ve seen here in the winter – I tend to spot them when walking in fallow land or on the edge of the natural park in rocky … well, craggy … places doing wonderful displays of aerobatics. Walking up the back road to Santa Ana in Canillas de Albaida, looking out over the valley towards La Maroma is a favourite spot – I think they roost in the unclad stonework of the old chapel.

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Bugs, Frogs & Walkers

Foot bath at the Fabrica
Poplar woods at the Fabrica

September can be a great month here, with the rain coming back and bringing new growth and life. Canillas de Albaida’s Fabrica de la Luz is one of the best places to enjoy this, and river and trees are beautiful. It’s a great place to start and end a walk.

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Summer Strolling

Summer walkers

Now that it is getting cooler I’m wondering why I missed out on walking. It may seem like midsummer madness but you can hike right through July and August. You can’t just head out the door and up the nearest peak at midday – not without serious risk of sun-stroke anyway, but if you could you would miss most of the wildlife, which tends to adapt, using dawn and dusk more and midday less. Walkers adapt too.

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Short-toed Eagle

My best shot

The Short-toed Snake Eagle is one of the larger raptors I see most commonly in the Axarquia. That is partly because they are relatively easy to i.d., partly because they are pretty big – adults have a 6 foot wingspan – and partly because there is at least one pair that regularly fly over the Sayalonga valley.

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Walking on sunshine – for Janet

I think I first walked the goat path with Janet and David back in 2003, possibly the first time they visited Cómpeta. I had walked with them hundreds of times in the Lake District and Scotland but never before in Spain. Another couple of grasshoppers who liked hopping about hills and wild places, both were terrific walkers. Both loved wildlife: Janet was especially keen on birds and flowers. The April day I’m thinking of was beautiful – we saw violet-winged carpenter bees feeding on the Jerusalem sage’s pink blooms under the old olive trees. David and Janet were tickled when we meet goats on the goat path (how unlikely!) and, though they had no Spanish, enjoyed saying hello through me to Antonio, the goat herd. If I remember rightly when we got to Canillas we found a bar, drowned our tapas in wine, and staggered merrily out for a taxi to get back to Cómpeta quoting a walking song to each other:

               “Before the Romans came to Rye or out to Severn strode                                     The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road…”

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April Fool

Yes, it’s official, I’m a fool for April. More than any other month seems the perfect blend of warmer weather with an abundance of life driven by the kind rains in spring.  This is a problem: I want to do everything – all my favourite day-long hikes. As for most people, that’s not fully practical, because of lack of time. What’s more, all the wilding can mean very slow progress: more time crouched over flowers but or aiming binoculars at the bushes. But at least April merits paying attention: a very short walk can be well worth it.

So, April Fool’s Day and an errand to run to the Finca Cerrillo. This just means heading down the zigzag mule path past Pepe’s smelly goatshed, crossing the Puente Romano and zigzagging up the other side. Barely worth the mention but for two things. I took a youngster with me who was immensely enthusiastic over wilding. And I took my camera of course.

Children are surprisingly good at hiking. They are usually carrying less weight, in terms of both packs and body, so all day walks are fine as long as they don’t get bored. Wilding is more of a challenge. Neither silence nor stillness are common habits among the nymphs, which is especially frustrating in terms of birding. Even eagerness can be a limitation: the urge to trap, poke, or pick up can be so destructive. Still, I took the nymph, code name is Sporty, along with me. I found I was expected to know the name and nature of every green thing within a 5 mile radius, which stretched my ability to hop blithely over gaps in my knowledge. That and the requirement to look out for Dangerous Wild Animals was a little outside my normal wilding walk.

RnB bugs

It was pretty good. I was pleased to find that every blossom elicited a scream of delight and a multitude of questions. I was also impressed that, when I pointed out an RnB bug with the point of my stick, I was told very sternly not to touch, hurt or upset the ‘beetle’.

Spanish Festoon

This wise philosophy didn’t entirely hold my companion back from, say, trying to catch a butterfly, but the thought was there.

 

What else did we see? Well, start as you mean to go on and point out that cracks in the town paving sprout lovely flowers if allowed to do so. Ivy-leaved toadflax is a med. native, and though it was so familiar from the brickwalls of my childhood close up it does have an exotic look.

Nettle-leaved Figwort

Nettle-leaved figwort, near the nettle-patch below the goats’ shed provided a good chance to explain how the plant is bluffing that it might sting without having to go to the trouble of getting the weapons. Sporty tenderly told the plant it was safe from predation from us.  We also saw some very lovely thistles, whose flowers are so often overlooked, before getting down to the road and the Roman bridge. The lovely dramatic sound of the rushing water fills the air; the bank is astonishingly rich with life; the giant cane bursts upwards, metres into the air, the brambles lace the banks, the tiniest flowers star every loose rock.

There were pretty bunches of three-cornered leeks on the bank scenting the air with garlic, and a couple of big fig trees growing up past the bridge from the riverside, laden with fruitbuds and bright leaves.

I thought some of the smallest plants, seen on the rocks on the stony path up, such as stonecrops, which can make a start in any sliver of soil, or the strange but beautiful patterns of lichens, were good to look at. The nymph was perhaps a bit more impressed by pretty flowers, but I can’t blame her. Many an adult overlooks the attractions of purple clover or pink catchfly by people used to enormous and handsome but unnatural flowers seen in shops and garden centres: I hope the nymph will keep using her eyes.

I reached the Finca, which always looks stunning, and popped in to say hello to David, Christine and Gordon and do my errand (Thanks, all). On the way out I was thrilled to see a hoopoe fly up to perch high on the lovely poplar trees near the gates. I couldn’t get a recognisable shot – it chose its branches too well and I missed its fan-winged flight. But they are one of those birds that put a smiley face on the day, a pleasure to see.

 

Back down to the river and we took a look at the plants beside it: great thick oleander bushes, huge clumps of giant cane, and willow bushes covered in spring catkins. There were horsetails growing into the water looking suitably medieval (see my horsetail blog) – I can’t believe I used to think they weren’t common here! I must have had my eyes closed!

With a little help from a friend (thanks, Jill) I pinned down this lovely vetch as Vicia lutea subsp lutea. I love that my shot captures the wildlife on it, tiny as they are, a reminder that its part of a complex network of life, not just a single flower.

That was it. It was time to go. Sporty looked for, but failed to find any frogs, then we headed back to the bridge. I had pointed out earlier how you could see the light shine on specks of insects afloat in the air over the stream and that there were birds flying out of the bushes to catch them (yellow wagtails and a swallow or two) but not they seemed to have disappeared. Then we heard a high cry, kee-kee-kee, from above. The kestrel flew in to perch on the sand-coloured cliffs above the Puente Romano. She flew and called, perched, and flew again. I didn’t see a partner but I wondered who she was calling to: perhaps they are thinking of nesting. Not a bad spot. I was very happy with her – she was settled enough to let Sporty look at her through the binoculars, watch her fly, hear her call. Not a bad start to a birding career, I hope! And the nymph seemed happy: she shrieked for joy. Another April fool.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sedella

Popn: approx 670

Sedella lies south of the main bulk of La Maroma, the great mountain of the Sierra Tejeda, which rises dramatically above this attractive village. Like all the villages it is not far from water – the Rio de la Fuente passes just to the east. It is surrounded, on lower slopes especially, with farmed lands but to the north you are immediately into the natural park. Molino MontosaWalking routes bring you to the Water channels above Molino MontosaMolino Montosa, an attractive old mill; go above it and you find first a clear demonstration of the water system and then the reservoir used to supply it.

 

From the mill you can go on to the ‘buitrería’ – this was a vulture sanctuary for injured birds. There is still a birders’ hide, but this is essentially obsolete since the resident birds that were fed here (leading to visits from large flocks of wild vultures) have now died. I still live in hope of seeing what a friend once witnessed: a flock of more than 20 taking off from the bank below the hide. Failing this I can always head to a small picnic site, to round off this nice walk with an encounter with a vulture that is always happy to pose for photos.

Sedella’s neighbours are the nearby Árchez, which is easy walking distance (see Silk to Salt) and the more distant Canillas de Aceituno (though Canillas de Albaida is actually closer).

Sedella wall mosaic, with an illustrated text about Malaga’s silk industry during the Nazari period

I have heard different accounts of the origins of the town’s name: a Cómpeta couple told me years ago that it derives from silk, the Spanish word being ‘seda’. Silk production was a significant industry here during Muslim times. However, other sources say different. Guide writer Hilary Gavilan, Andalucia.com, and the Diputación all mention the Latin word Sedilia, meaning rural possession as a possible name source. The latter two also mention Sedille as used by the Visigoths. Then there is the fact that, post-reconquest, it was referred to as Xedalia (an Arabic word, surely). Finally there is a long-standing tradition that the Catholic Queen Isabela created the place name on being told of a battle that took place nearby, when she said, “Sé de ella“, which means I know about it. No mention, it seems of silk. Perhaps the ‘seda’ in Sedella is mere coincidence.

I can wholeheartedly agree with Gavilan’s assessment of the town in her book The Axarquia, East of Málaga: “a delightful village with interesting alleyways and narrow streets. Well worth exploring”. Like so many of these villages there are lovely streets, attractive metalwork balconies and unexpected views.

As well as walks to the Puente Romano, the Molino Montosa or the Buitrería, there is great pleasure in just strolling through the streets. There is church and chapel – the Chapel de Nuestra Señora de la Esperanza has a forecourt built with embedded stones in front of it, an old threshing circle. The little townhall is in an attractive square, just near the bus stop. There are several attractive and interesting mosaics in this square giving explanations of the towns history. There is also the old public wash-house, with the spring waters that come down from the sierra filtered through a dozen sinks. I imagine the centuries of work that would have been done by the town’s women here – hand washing all, linen, all garments, all fabrics – and in a climate like this, they would have needed endless washing. No more though: it has now been turned into a mini garden, decorated and full of plants. With such a simple adaptation they turn the utilitarian into an unexpected attraction.

Facilities

Centro de Visitantes (with parking for mules)

Centro de Visitantes

This is the visitors centre for the Natural Park and an attractive facility with good displays, maps, explanations, and even some conference rooms for visits from the great and good, as well as toilets and a little shop. I wish it were open a little more, but it is worth taking a look round.

 

Restr. Lorena, Sedella

Cafes/Restaurants

Restaurante Lorena is the only one I’ve eaten in here, being served good, traditional local food, though the boars’ heads displayed don’t appeal. The owners, who cure their own cheese and ham, are very pleasant, in spite of being Real Betis fans (I’m Malaga, of course).

On the same street (Villa del Castillo) there are two others, Chiringuito and Meson de Franco, which seems like a well-set up bar. In the Plaza, near the San Andrés Apostol church, there is also a bar. It is pretty basic but I’ve been perfectly happy to enjoy a beer or two here after a long walk.

Fiestas & Events

January 17th: Fiesta de San Antón. Like the Canillas de Albaida fiesta (also the 17th) there is a procession followed by the blessing of animals that have been part of the procession.

Easter: several sources say that the Easter celebrations in Sedella are particularly deeply felt and so attractive to watch.

August: Celebration of the Day of Our Lady of Hope (to whom the chapel is dedicated)

 

Also of interest

Walk route: Silk & Salt – from Sedella to Salares (or vice versa)

History of Sedella

Blue Colour of the Sky, Sedella

in Spanish:

Subida a Sierra Tejada

Do you know Sedella? Have I missed anything? Feel free to let me know – add a comment of email me at grasshopper@wildingmalaga.com with additions or corrections.

 

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Art & Music in Canillas de Albaida

Keith James’ poster (for another concert!)

I mentioned, in writing on Cómpeta recently, the wealth of artists and art that is hidden in these small villages and, very much in passing, a guitarist who was due to perform in a Canillas de Albaida. I remembered this on the day itself and in spite of being “Too Busy” decided to take a peek anyway, even if I could only stay for a few songs.

The performance was held in the old fish market on Calle Fortuna, just below the main square. This does not sound promising, does it? However, it has been converted into an art gallery by Philippine von Krusenstierna,

Painting by Philippine

a Swedish artist and ‘Canillera’ of many years. It is clean and tiled, with a high ceiling creating space, and a couple of small counters (easily converted to serve drinks). It is very small – no more than a large room – but Phillipa has made the most of it, filling the walls with her strange, surreal artwork. I came to the double iron gates wondering where the audience would fit in.

By squeezing, it turned out. There were banks of chairs, all but two taken, and some people standing. Someone was passing out tiny beakers of red and white wine from the counters. I looked around at the shadowed art on the walls, and listened to the warm hush of voices – the noise of many people being quiet because here was the guitarist, Keith James, explaining how the songs he was singing had caught his attention or were poems which he had set to music, and playing a hypnotic guitar. He played Lenard Cohen songs, one based on a poem of Federico Garcia Lorca, he played sad love songs and poems. And the music gained echos from the intimate atmosphere of the tiny gallery, the candlelight, the strange, almost sinister artwork looking down on us all. What a treat. What a pleasure to enjoy such a complex experience in such a setting!

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