As the family get ready for the New Year’s Eve celebration – the second main celebration of three over the festive season in Spain – Benjamin and I take a trip to the jetty where the fishing boats come in with their daily catch.
Benjamin’s mother has already been here earlier this morning to buy the seafood for the family evening meal on December 31st. There are twenty-two family members coming for dinner and Carmen (Benjamin’s mother) insisted on going to the muelle (port) to buy the galeras (mantis prawns) straight from her cousin’s fishing boat. She knows they will still be alive and even fresher than in the market place.
As we roll up at the wharf, there’s a buzz of activity. A man walks out with three large nets of mussels and my taste buds start to kick into action. We walk in and inspect the fish. It’s all in boxes on the floor. The floor is wet and people have their wellies on.
The fish is laid out in polystyrene boxes. It’s been weighed and each box has its label telling us the weight of the fish or seafood in the box, it’s origin and the name of the person who caught it.
We walk around examining the boxes. The fish has just come in off the boats and is so fresh it’s still alive. We find the galeras. They are wriggling around in the box.
Little black eyes like peppercorns on their transparent coating. People come in and marvel at the lubina (sea bass). It’s a good size and would easily feed a family of four on New Year’s Eve.
We wander out on to the harbour. A fishing boat is on its way out. They wave out to me as they see me taking a photo. They have a fantastic day for fishing. The sky is a beautiful blue, the sea is calm and there’s little wind. Another group of fishermen are unpacking their catch, they wash off the fish on board and throw it into a large plastic bucket ready to hand over to be sold.
Benjamin and I wander out of the building and over to the fisherman’s bar La Cantina Marinera. The sun is warm despite the temperature of 13 degrees and the terrace is busy. We walk through the terrace and make our way to the bar. At first, I think I am the only female in this busy bar. Something that years ago would have made me feel shy. On closer inspection, I notice there are more women and one of them I recognise from earlier when I saw her organising fishing nets.
I order some tapas and a couple of beers.
Everything on display is fish or seafood. The colours are amazing. Three generous tapas and two beers come to nine Euros. We sit at a table in the sunshine. The tapas are fresh and mouth-wateringly good. The bar starts to fill up with people coming for lunch. We sit back, soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the tapas.
One of the three main celebrations over the Christmas period in Spain is the arrival of Los Reyes Magos, otherwise know as the Three Kings or Three Wise Men.
The Spanish barely have time to recover from the New Year’s Eve celebrations before they start all over again with the preparation for the visit from Los Reyes Magos (The Three Kings or Three Wise Men) on January 6th.
Traditionally, the Reyes Magos deliver presents overnight on January 5th ready to open on January 6th.
Children all over Spain are excited. They finish school around December 22nd and every year I wonder how they cope with the waiting. Spending the school holidays waiting for the Three Kings to arrive with their presents, must be quite a challenge.
By January 5th the levels of excitement have risen. There are last minute Christmas shoppers everywhere and in every city, town and village in Spain on January 5th the Three Kings will make an appearance in a procession.
Around 6.00pm the streets will be lined with people, old and young alike waiting for it all to happen.
The Three Kings and their helpers will throw out sweets and small presents to the onlookers as they go around. There’s a mad scramble to catch them. One year in Burriana, Castellon, they even threw out fresh artichokes, resulting in a tasty supper afterwards, although we had to dodge quite a few as they flew through the air.
Last year I wanted to see the processions in both Ubrique and Benaocaz as I hadn’t seen them there before. So, at around 5.30pm on January 5th, we drove down the mountain from Benaocaz to Ubrique, where people were starting to line the streets in anticipation.
At 6.00pm, the procession started with the Three Kings coming down the main street, each one on a separate float with their helpers. Generous handfuls of sweets came flying over our heads while we dodged them trying not to get hit.
Children and adults alike scramble around on the ground to pick them up. A lady behind me pulled out a carrier bag for her children to put them in. They had come prepared.
Each float was followed by a band playing music. I love this about Ubrique. There’s always a band in every procession. The musicians of the town played for the crowd and the excited children. The atmosphere was electric. When the floats had passed the through the main street and were making their way around the rest of the town, it was time for us to drive back up the mountain to Benaocaz to watch the procession there.
Traditionally, the Three Kings tour Benaocaz by donkey, but I had been told that they hadn’t done it for the last few years preferring to go around on more modern forms of transport. The atmosphere was buzzing when we arrived. I was worried that if they went around by car, I might miss them, so Benjamin dropped me off while he went to park.
“They’re up by the church,” I heard a man tell a passing family. “What? You mean this way?” I asked him pointing up the steps.
I raced up the steps feeling like a child. I heard the music before I got there.
And then, suddenly, there they were in full tradition.
Each King on a donkey.
Most of the processions I’ve seen over the years involve the Kings passing the crowds, but in Benaocaz just like any other procession in this village, the crowd is part of the procession. Those who weren’t dressed up to entertain the children, walked behind the Kings and their donkeys. The Kings carried sacks full of sweets and threw handfuls out as they went from one end of the village to the other.
Half way round King Baltasar lifted his sack up and the top half of the sack fell plop into the floor in a pile by the donkey’s feet. Baltasar was so convulsed by laughter that for a moment he doubled over and could hardly ride the donkey. He managed to recover and move on, leaving the children free to dive straight into the pile of sweets.
Finally, the procession got to the plaza where a stage had been set up with three thrones. By now, Benjamin had disappeared into the bar for a beer, but I was keen to see what happened next.
The Three Kings stood in front of their thrones on the stage. The children got themselves ready. The excitement was rising. They knew what was coming. First more sweets were thrown out, followed by plastic footballs. The kids scrambled around to catch them. Soft toys were lobbed out next. With a catch that would impress any cricket team, the man next to me caught one as it flew through the air for his toddler.
Eventually, the Kings took their seats on the thrones. The children were asked to line up in order of age. One by one, starting from the youngest baby in the village and working their way up through the age groups, the children of the village, were called up to the Three Kings to receive a present.
I felt emotional. It must be magical as a child in Spain to think that those people who deliver your presents overnight have come to your town or village to hand out presents and sweets before they even get to your house.
As I looked around, most of the villagers I know were there to watch the children receive their presents. It’s a special night all over Spain, but I have to admit that this was one of the loveliest and most fun processions I have seen so far.
So, after a wonderful evening of processions, it was time to go down to the coast to stay with family in Chipiona ready for January 6th.
It’s almost compulsory to get up at dawn on January 6th (luckily dawn is not until around 8.00am at that time of year in the south of Spain) and stuff your face with the traditional ‘Roscon de Reyes’ (The Kings’ Cake) while everyone opens their presents.
Traditionally, the Roscon, a round cake, is freshly made at the baker’s and delivered or collected ready to eat for breakfast on January 6th with coffee or hot chocolate.
Of course, we had been unable to resist taking with us a Roscon cooked in the wood-burning oven at La Panaderia San Anton in Benaocaz. So, there were two enormous cakes on the table, meaning there was no escape from eating cake. What a deliciously sweet start to the twelfth and last day of Christmas.
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