noche del vino, pisa tradicional

As it's approaching 90 degrees F in the office, I'm taking a brief work break to continue with my Noche del Vino report. The festival officially began with celebration of mass, but because neither I nor Big Jim is Roman Catholic, we skipped on that. The pisa, or stomping of the grapes, was supposed to begin at noon; however, we know too well that events never begin as scheduled, so we set out closer to 1pm. We were amazed to find all the shops open because traditionally everything is closed on Sundays here, except for a few of the cafes and restaurants. The store owners were switched on to the wealth of tourist euros in the village, so who could blame them for being opportunists. Several farmers had even opened their bodegas and were selling their wine in recycled Fanta bottles. We arrived at the Plaza Vendimia just as the first farmers were bringing their baskets of grapes to the stage. Enormous sheets of white cotton had been strung above the square to shield onlookers from the fierce afternoon sun. I looked on with envy at the older Spanish women who had wisely brought their fans with them. It was hot, really hot. For this reason, the crowd appeared to be smaller than in recent years, but there were still many tourists, and all the old randy, I'mmarriedbutstillaplayerwinkwink Spanish farmers were wearing their best jeans and rope-soled sandals. The pisa this year seemed a bit unorganized, but then again we don't expect things to always run smoothly around here. :-) For example, the pisadores began their stomping while the priest, who is the MC for just about every event in the village, was still testing the sound system: "uno, dos, tres, si, si, si, uno, dos, tres, si, si, si..." blared from the stacks of speakers. Ten minutes into the stompfest, he finally began his official greeting and introduced the pisadores. It was also difficult to view the pisa close up because the section directly in front of the stage was cordoned off for press people and a television crew. I understand the desire for publicity, but I thought it was a bit of a bummer, particularly for the many people who had traveled from all parts of Spain and Europe to see the pisa. Oh who am I kidding, the tourists, identifiable by the souvenir neckerchieves they donned, were all huddled around the barrels of free wine. Big Jim and I passed on the wine, and after about an hour of wandering the crowds, we decided to head home for a more appropriate beverage, ice-cold tea that Big Jim had made using fresh mint grown on the roof terrace. We stopped to buy a loaf of bread, and I gladly accepted the plastic fan the owner was passing out. I had no objection to the shameless marketing of the Churreria del Nino Bonito, which was emblazoned across the fan, and Big Jim and I flapped their ad all the way back to Calle Salares. to be continued.... mylifeinspain