This is not a sailing story. It has nothing to do with Arcturus. But the night in question was an interesting insight into the nature of serendipity so I’m going to publish and be damned.
On Saturday June 4th, the night before I flew to Sweden to see Arcturus in the flesh for the first time, I went out for dinner in Estepona with my old friend Richard, whom I was visiting in Southern Spain. I’d been to the town a couple of times before and it was nothing to write home about. This particular evening a few minutes after leaving the house I noticed I didn’t have my phone. But I figured, what the heck, we’re just going out for tapas and a few glasses of vino…it will do me good to disconnect for a few hours.
We began the evening at Bar Simon, right at the edge of the revitalized town center for a quick glass of rosado and the bar’s signature dish, which was recently named ‘tapa of the year’ in Andalusia. It was a fillet of bluefin tuna with caramelized red onion topped with a pimento/strawberry confit. Sublime. And not a flavor combination you’d think would work. A very promising start to the evening.
Soon after we strolled up the hill to the town center where to our amazement there was an event taking place which looked like some kind of Easter festival. Turns out that’s exactly what it was, but the town had just decided to revive it in June for the first time in 25 years. Lucky us.
The Cofradía del Cautivo reenacts the procession of the captive Jesus to Calvary. And the whole town turns out to either join in the procession or enjoy it from the sidelines. The ladies of Estapona leading the procession were decked out in their best dresses with shiny court shoes and black mantilla veils on their heads, carrying gold or silver-plated sticks, the significance of which remained a mystery. Behind them came local dignitaries, including the mayor and city councilors toting large embroidered civic banners extolling their loyalty either to Estepona or the region as a whole. Then came the Guardia Civil dressed up in their best military spit and polish. And finally a brass band from what looked like either the local high school or the church, either way, all the players looked like teens. But the centerpiece was a life-size statue of Jesus with a man I presumed to be Pontius Pilate, but given my ignorance of Catholic ceremony I could be wrong. Jesus wore a crown of thorns and a pained expression. The two statues were mounted on the bed supported by large railway-sleeper type beams. The whole edifice was perhaps 15-20 feet long, and doubtless weighed several thousand pounds, and it was all supported by 20 or more young men on either side, dressed in gray suits and black shoes, swaying more side to side than forward as they reverentially bore their considerable burden from one side of town to the other, accompanied by the blaring brass of the band and steadily beating drums. A quite compelling and authentic spectacle of civic and religious pride and of course, I didn’t have my camera to record it.
It was also lovely to see that the whole of the town came out to watch: large families of ten or more, women with strollers and babies, while the children played nearby, not so much interested in the procession but rather with each other. I saw plenty of seven year old girls flirting with nine year old boys in an innocent foreshadowing of later life.
But the evening was completed for me, (because I love to eat), by the new crop of stylish and innovative restaurants that have appeared like magic since my last visit. Richard told me that since the recent election of a forward-thinking ‘non-aligned’ mayor (this is important in Spain, apparently) the place is being transformed into a culinary and cultural destination. On every corner it seemed there was a buzzy and bustling new restaurant, staffed by young, hip Spaniards, using local ingredients and farm-to-table practices, none of which would have been out of place in the more cosmopolitan districts of Madrid or Valencia. In addition to exciting and innovative takes on Spanish food, the restaurants were showcasing boutique wines by up-and-coming small batch producers. One tiny little boite we stopped at boasted 75 wines by the glass, none of which I’d ever seen in the States including a fabulous Hondarriba white from the Basque country which perfectly paired with their lamb and potato croquet with mint sauce. Other highlights from our bar-hopping including a divine and unctuous oxtail dish and a morcilla (blood sausage) purse.
Estepona’s old town is quickly morphing into the sort of place you could bring the family and not be disappointed, either in terms of the variety or the price. Take your time and linger for a few hours quaffing, nibbling and people watching. And if you’re really fortunate, you might also be able to enjoy a soundtrack of the local brass band tooting melodically from somewhere just around the corner.
I was able to find a little footage of the event, which focuses, unfortunately exclusively on the statue of Christ to the exclusion of all else. But you get the idea….
