Si nos preguntan de donde somos
Responderemos en alta voz
Somos de un pueblo muy pequeñito llamado Feria y el campeon

Si nos preguntan que si es bonito
Responderemos… !bonito no¡
Pero tenemos unos chavales que roban el alma y el corazón

Sung by corito children it holds a basic truth
Beauty doesn’t describe the nuances of the Faro de Extremadura: defiant, doughty, immutable with formidible topography

Unsurprisingly Feria was the garrison town of the Duque de Feria
Soldiers didn’t need grand houses
There are only two big houses in Feria side-by-side in Calle Nueva
The ayuntamiento‘s Hotel de la Cruz Real has the only restaurant and the many bars flourish offering frutos secos and pippas
There are no soldiers now, but the habits of a garrison town remain

Dour, open, friendly, revelling till the early hours
It will capture your heart and soul; even when the icy winds hits your face and chills your bones

Leaving Zafra, from the west, Feria continually appears fleetingly on a saddle between two peaks, the foothills in the foreground continually changing positions around it
The views from all approaches give an expectation of something special

The road twisting up to the village through the foothills of the Sierra Vieja is a suitable prelude
Past La Lappa the road rises and looks back to swathes of holm oaks rolling over the hilltops below
They’re broken occasional by the grey slurried rock and silos of pig farms
The black cerdos ibéricos having scrubbed the dehesa free of vegetation

15 7

The shepherd Francisco shows a different side of Feria; living with the rythm of his sheep and the light of the day
Driving his flock to pastures around the village and returning them at the end of the day to fields behind the Hotel de la Cruz Real
Craggy and voluble; he sits uneasilly on a donkey, feet hanging close to the ground
He has a penchant for speaking to Englishmen, though he only speaks Spanish
Francisco has a talent in communicating without language

Mules are too willful for Francisco, so his garrulous face sits above two large donkey’s ears
For many in Feria this is still the preferred way of traveling to el campo every day

His sheep share pasture with those scouring the undergrowth for esparragos
Foragers from Burguillos to Feria proudly show you battle scars; forearms to the elbows scratched by esparragueras
This is the land of wild asparagus
With such an insatiable appetite for it, Marcel Proust would note that the cortijo‘s chamber pots had changed to flask’s of perfume

* The onset of the asparagus urine smell is remarkably rapid. The smell has been reported to be detectable 15 to 30 minutes after ingestion. Marcel Proust says eating asparagus …transforms my chamber-pot into a flask of perfume – source Wikipedia
photography and text by Tim Harris
This entry was published on June 23, 2017 at 6:30 pm. It’s filed under Extremadura, Feria, Spain, Travel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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