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Unbelievable as it may seem, nearly a whole month has elapsed since Christmas Day. With New Year’s celebrations three weeks behind us, and Dia del Reyes more than a fortnight ago, the pueblo was burning for a fiesta.
If San Sebastián isn’t already the patron saint of stalwart soaks he ought to be. For, if nothing else, the annual booze-fuelled pilgrimage Conileños hold in his name serves as a lasting tribute to drunkenness.
Not long after dawn, on a Sunday towards of the end of January each year, caravans decorated with colourful paper flowers gather at the new market place on the fringes of Conil. Sound systems blasting out Spanish hip-hop full volume compete with each other. If the objective of the earsplitting hip-hop hotchpotch is to break the will of Sunday morning dozers the effort gets ten out of ten. I almost fell out of bed thinking Armageddon was upon us. Still, on Romería day it pays to get up early, as freshly-baked bread sells out quickly. I hurried down to Cristobal’s on calle Fredrico García Lorca for a loaf. They still had stacks.
Around eight o’ clock a plaster effigy of San Sebastián is borne on shoulders out of the small chapel in Plaza de Santa Catalina to be mounted on a heavily ornamented cart drawn by a pair of oxen. Comprising another decorated cart drawn by oxen, an open carriage hitched to a pair of mules, and a retinue of horsemen, a small procession makes its way to the market place where the caravans await. I came out of Cristobal’s just in time to catch them pass by.
According to legend, in 288AD Saint Sebastian was tied to a tree and pierced with arrows for his beliefs, during a purge of Christians by Diocletian, Roman emperor at the time. In a stroke of luck Saint Irene of Rome happened by. She untied him and healed his wounds. Sebastian’s luck didn’t hold out long though. After deciding to tell Diocletian he shouldn’t go around piercing Christians with arrows he was clubbed to death for his trouble, going on to become a prominent martyr to followers of the Catholic and Orthodox faiths.
In order to mark his martyrdom it is mostly the young of Conil that meander an interestingly crooked path along the fairly straight country road leading to El Colorado, a distance of around five miles. By the time they get half way, many of the dedicants begin to exhibit signs associated with martyring themselves to the cause of excessive libation, rather than devotion to San Sebastián. Stumbling off into undergrowth to seek relief they emerge pasty-faced, or zipping up their flies. As none of the pilgrims seems in a hurry to arrive at their destination, the journey takes a good part of the morning and afternoon. For the most devoted it can take more than six hours. Some never get there at all. Overcome by emotion, weakness and a surfeit of refreshment, there are pilgrims that stray from the path of righteousness, while more than a few fall by the wayside.
To encourage the hundreds of intrepid wayfarers trailing caravans many families set up barbecues and picnics in the pine forest straddling the last leg. Along with tasty vittles they offer fizzy beverages fortified with spirits to help them on their way. Or stop them in their tracks, whatever the case may be. At pilgrims’ end temporary bars have been set up by the forest to refresh arrivals even further, along with those that have learned to pay homage the easy way, travelling to El Colorado by bus or car.
There’s always enough time to party down in the pueblo.
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Wonderful gallery of this traditional event, Bryan. On three occasions I have spent some time in Andalucia and I always enjoyed very much the fiestas. It’s another world altogether. ❤
Thank you Dina. As you must have witnessed, fiestas define the Andalucian character and culture. They are opportunities to put their love for life on public display; something most Andalucians can’t resist.
It amazes me how much time and energy so many are prepared to devote to their fiestas.
Like many other pueblos in this area, and all over the province, here in Conil carnaval season has just drawn to a close. The culminating parade took place in Conil on Saturday.
Due to an extremely heavy cold I picked up in England I wasn’t able to attend this year, so there won’t be any photos.
They’ll probably be a couple more events next weekend, there usually is, so I might turn up for one of those.
Preparations for carnaval start months beforehand when songs are written costumes are designed and rehearsals begin. The results are a marvel to behold, Stages are erected all over the pueblo for a week or more, with groups performing their acts with a professional air
These festivities are obviously still important to people. It is great how traditions like this can be kept alive. The celebrations are probably every year the same again and again and people enjoy it.. This year’s pictures probably look very much like last year’s or any other year’s pictures. Did you go out, Bryan, and take all these pictures yourself? I noticed in one of the pictures a guy uses a phone to take a picture!
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Andalucians certainly do like fiestas and saints days Uta. Having had a long history of suffering, they have learned to enjoy life to the hilt. All the celebrations have their own little traditions. The Romería almost seems like an initiation ceremony for teenagers, as they are the main participants.
I having been taking photos of most romerías for over ten years and this year was no exception. The ‘guy’ taking the photo is actually a woman, but I won’t let her know what you said. I thought it was rather sweet, especially the way the boy is posing so happily.
Wonderful collage of images. It always amuses me a bit how much of the world’s booziest fests are based upon some very religious event of fable.
And some of the world’s booziest fests take place in Spain, the bull-running in Pamplona being one of the most famous, and one of the cruellest. Not so long ago Spain used to have one of the largest populations of practising Catholics in Europe too, but congregations are diminishing at an incredible rate. That doesn’t stop them celebrating saints days though.
Funny that the booziest and bloodiest fests exist in a country in which the Catholic Church has such presence. (Or maybe not so funny…)
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