Winter arrived with a bang. And shouting. And an engine revving. At 7 in the morning. David, Bautista’s brother, was reversing his tipper truck up the drive with a load of logs. Bautista and Smelly Miguel were offering loud advice.

Every autumn the village secretary draws lots and each household is awarded a beech tree or two, growing somewhere deep in the forests high above the village. Not only does this provide winter fuel, it thins out the undergrowth and stimulates growth. It is up to each householder to collect his allotment of fallen trees.

Whilst Jo and I were away, Bautista and Miguel had climbed the mountain and found our allocation. They had stripped the trees of their branches and dragged the trunks to the forest track. There they were sawn into logs and with David’s help, transported down the mountain. I was now the proud owner of two truck-loads of logs which needed splitting and stacking ready to be dried for next winter. For the next few weeks my mornings would commence with some vigourous exercise.

David refused payment for the hire of his lorry but accepted a couple of bottles of my finest Rioja. Bautista and Miguel agreed to join us at Epeleta in Lekumberri for grilled wild turbot and Galician beef with Albariño and Ribera del Duero followed by Armagnac and Montecristos. It may have cost as much as a tank of central heating oil but it was a lot more enjoyable.

Publicada el Saturday,1 November, 2008 a las 9:59 am en Local Life. Puedes seguir cualquier comentario sobre el tema a traves del canal de sindicacion RSS 2.0. Puedes comentarla, o hacer trackback desde tu portal.