Buen Vino and Aracena

Once we'd finally reached the airport in Mallorca, it was smooth sailing (or flying, whatever) over to Alicante on the mainland. We flew with RyanAir who are usually terrible but this was by far the easiest experience we've ever had with them. Plus, we got one of their ridiculous 1 cent flight deals... with no taxes and fees! To be fair, we did still have to pay some fees, but those were to check our bags as well as to pay with a credit card. Still, once everything was said and done, 20€/person for a flight still ain't bad.

What was, however, was that I started to feel a bit sick on the plane. Nothing too bad and it was still at a pretty low level throughout our layover in Alicante before catching the night bus. But after a couple hours on the bus, the sickness hit harder. The main thing was that gas kept building up in my stomach, making me extremely uncomfortable from the pressure. Alicante before catching the night bus. But after a couple hours on the bus, the sickness hit harder. The main thing was that gas kept building up in my stomach, making me extremely uncomfortable from the pressure. Eventually, it would reach a tipping point and a gigantic belch would issue forth, releasing the pressure. Momentarily. By the time we arrived in Sevilla around 9:30AM, I was pretty well beat and very exhausted, kind of useless for our day wandering around the city as the next bus to Aracena was at 4:30PM.

We finally arrived in Aracena where we were met by Jeannie who took us back to Finca Buen Vino to meet her husband, Sam, their daughter, Grania, and the other helpers: Trent (Australian), Mark, and Alan (both Scottish). I was still a little ill and we were both tired from the overnight bus so we excused ourselves after dinner and went to bed early while the others partied deep into the night.

But we'd get our partying in - oh yes, we would get our partying in.

First off, however, let's talk about the work we did there. Finca Buen Vino is a guesthouse and, as such, we were helping them get ready for the upcoming tourist season. We helped paint a cottage, waxed some tables, cleaned out the pool house, painted hallways, built a fence, cleared an old pool area, stocked firewood, etc... Kate did a lot more painting and weeding than I did - I was occupied with the Scots for a week + building this fence as we had to first dig the holes for the posts, then collect the posts, then hammer them in and fill in the holes with packed earth, then cut down trees for cross bars, then nail those in and secure them with wire. Quite a process, but a beautiful, rustic fence was the reward.

And what did we get out of this arrangement? Well, we got luxurious rooms in the guesthouse. We spent most of our stay in a room in the main house with our own bathroom and views over the property. But after a couple weeks, they had some guests who needed the room so we were moved out to the poolhouse. Not quite as luxurious as it was still under construction and it was a little inconvenient to "commute" to and from... but the views over the pool were unbeatable.

We also got delicious, gourmet food from Jeannie. She cooks a lot for the guesthouse but also prepared two huge meals a day (breakfast was self-service) for us... though when there were hotel guests dining, we got to eat the same food. Some of our favorite meals included the huge crab dinner, the incredible roast pork, the amazing curries, and the various pates. Not to mention the pig's leg they kept in the kitchen. This was jamon iberico, one of the finest types of ham in the world taking 4 years to smoke and cure the leg. Plus, there's a 3 year waiting list for a ham. And they cost €400 each. And they taste delicious.

We kept fairly busy in our off time, thanks mostly to the Scots who kept us quite entertained through their innovative patter. When, that is, we could understand them. We picked up such gems as jobby; big players play in the big games; take a bow, son, take a bow; wee dippy dip; helicopter-daft; and much, much more. Also, these guys were truly sports-daft. They loved every sport out there. Literally. Except for cricket. But outside of that... I mean, these crazy dudes ordered the American sports packages on for their TVs at home. They liked to watch golf. And snooker. And CURLING. I think you get the point.

We also got to play a few sports with them. There were a couple days of soccer down in the fields, but many more days of ridiculous poolside watersports. Like diving headers into the pool. Diving catches into the pool. Diving bicycle kicks into the pool. And other classic Olympic sports. Indeed, you pretty much needed to be an Olympic caliber athlete to compete as the amount of pain suffered by simply getting into that ice-bath we so casually refer to as a "pool" would send lesser mortals wailing for their mums like wee weans (pronounced "waynes"). But how sweet was it to sit out in the baking sun, beer by your side, then get up to juggle the ball a bit, eventually leaping into the pool to get a touch and try to keep the juggling alive... pretty much perfect, if you ask me.

Though, as alluded to previously (see paragraph 4), we did a bit more partying than just the odd poolside beer. And most of the time, Mark ended up naked. The first and most memorable time was after we innocently walked into Aracena for the day, taking a lovely stroll through on a really hot afternoon. We got into town and had planned on going to the caves, but it was Easter weekend and the caves were mobbed by crowds so we decided to go into the center of town and watch the Premiership game at a local bar which was to become our local bar. A few drinks later and we decided to skip the bus home and just walk. Of course, we also decided we needed a few drinks for the two hour walk back, which turned it into a three hour walk back during which time we (read: Alan) lost the cap to our water bottle, Mark ran naked by a field, Kate took a nap in the middle of the road, and I watched as the Scots belted out drinking/football songs at the top of their lungs as we swept through a sleepy town.

Kate also tried to convince Mark and Alan not to jump in a reservoir we passed on the walk... and for some insane reason offered up a deal where we would all jump in the pool back at Finca Buen Vino when we arrived. So we all jumped in the icy water and then returned to the house itself. Jeannie welcomed back the first two through the door (Kate and Alan), saying she was so worried about us and asking if we got caught in the rain because we were so wet. I, meanwhile, was in the kitchen with Mark, trying to convince him to put some clothes on. He, of course, refused, saying that he didn't want to get his clothes wet. So he then walked in, giggling like a schoolgirl, and ran up the stairs as Jeannie deduced behind him, "Oh, you're all pissed and jumped in the pool."

We spent a few other afternoons in Aracena as well, finally making it to the Cave of Wonders (La Gruta de las Maravillas), but most of our time in Aracena was to watch the Semana Santa processions. Semana Santa, or Holy Week, is the week leading up to Easter, celebrated by parading massive floats through the streets. How do you move the floats? With up to 70 men carrying it on their shoulders. A sergeant of sorts calls out the marching beat, alerting the men below - whose vision is completely hidden by drapery - when there is a step up or step down, when to duck and when to lift to get the giant float out of the church. The scenes pictured on the floats are quite gruesome - Jesus on the cross, Mary mourning, soldiers with whips and flails... all the bloody, gory spectacle that Catholics love to remember.

And if the floats didn't grab your attention, the hoods would. The hoods were originally worn by penitents in the middle ages so they could keep their identities secret, but it was co-opted by the KKK as their iconic conehead thing. So with that secondary association in the common mind, it's a bit creepy to see hordes of sinisterly hooded - if well-meaning - townsfolk walking the streets like it ain't no thang. Especially when the super-dramatic, Imperial Deathmarch music is blaring out from the 50-strong town band. It's supposed to be an even bigger deal in Sevilla but we didn't feel like battling the hordes, neither to get a glimpse nor to find a place to stay.

What else? Well, there were the friends and family of Sam and Jeannie who lived in the neighborhood, including wealthy friends whose cousins own the Biltmore, as well as Jeannie's sister and brother-in-law - Henrietta and Sebastian - who built a vacation home next door. They were all lushes, Sebastian in particular - and all definitely characters as well... though I don't think I can repeat any of his hilarious quotes as they aren't appropriate for most readers. I can, however, say that Sebastian told us he once gave the name of his favorite antique shop in Edinburgh as a wedding gift. Just the name, nothing else. And he, of course, wouldn't deign to tell us what it was. Anyway, he and Henrietta invited us over to use their heated pool one afternoon, forcing beers on us whether we wanted them or not. They also came with us one afternoon when Sam and Jeannie took us all to another friend's farm for a picnic. We were thinking we'd sit out on the grass with a few people, some baguettes, maybe a bottle of wine... We ended up going on a huge trek with five other cars onto yet another farm, then hike out to the spot, literally carrying a grandmother in a wheelchair across a river and along some bumpy terrain before we reached the ruins. Pretty fun and very random... though what was even more random was that one of that other farm's helpers was a friend of a friend of mine from high school.

Lastly, I must give an honorable mention to Sam and Jeannie's dog, Bucky. They had two dogs - Maggie being the other one - but Bucky was their favorite despite the fact that she had an incredibly annoying habit of constantly wanting to play fetch with a stone. She never got tired of this game, ever. If you didn't kick or throw the rock, she'd put it on top of your shoe. If you were sitting down, she'd hop up and throw it on your lap. All day, every day. Oh, and she only had one eye after she lost the other in a fight with a CAT. But she was pretty cute at least.

In short, we had a great time at Finca Buen Vino, made some great friends, and even picked up a wee bit of patter in between learning how snooker's played and watching some ridiculous movies, like Crank. In the end, we decided to go to the Netherlands a bit earlier than originally planned so we could be there for Queen's Day... but not before a couple days in Sevilla with Alan and Mark...

Oh, and one more thing... if you want any more pictures, feel free to check out Mark and Alan's photo blog here.