El Día de Sopas Perotas

Music, Travel

I started off the first weekend of October in the most peculiar, and absolutely fantastic way, at the same time. Woke up with the loud birds and the magic morning sunrise of Malaga, and headed off to catch C1, and later C2 train to go all the way up to Alora, together with my friends who love both DJing and nature. And on that day we would focus on the nature… in theory.

The trip was sponsored by a very thoughtful initiative of the Spanish government, to grant free commuting train ticket from September 2022 until the end of the year. The only requirement to get the ticket for free is to use up the ticket for a minumum of 16 trips, after which 10 EUR of the initial fee is reimbursed. This way, people are incentivised to use the public transportation instead of their own vehicle. Which in the current inflation and gas pricing climate, makes even more sense. Well done, Spain!

On our way we did not plan much, just to see the beautiful pueblo blanco, its surroundings, ermitas, a castle and have some tapas. What we found out though, stepping out from the C2 train, was a GREAT fiesta. This time dedicated to a soup: a famous sopa perota, typical from the mountains of Malaga, made out of vegetables, white wine and bread.

Perota is an adjective describing the inhabitant of Alora, just like maño – maña describes someone from Zaragoza. For centuries, mountains of Malaga have been a rather hostile place to live, with equally hot summers and harsh winters, so the dish had bring enough calories for hard working folks. There is a beautiful homenage to La Faenera, a working class woman carrying heavy buckets, in one of the main streets of Alora.

As I’m writing this, a few day has passed since the Soup Day in Alora, and I am on my way to a completely different destination, Barcelona, on a high-speed bullet train, passing through Alora, Antequera and other familiar places in the mountain range – wondering how stunning it is that Spain combines so much modern advancements and tradition, at the same time.

On the Soup Day, we also witnessed a fascinating journey to the history of Alora, dating back to ancient times where there were no refrigerators and the food, or wine was stored below the ground, in a thickly isolated containers, now available to admire passing by the peculiar Mirilla Pepe Rosas.

My friends also introduced me to the typical, rhytmic music of the mountains of Malaga, los verdiales, famous for its rhytmic crótalo, tambourines and energetic singing and dancing. As we followed the local Panda de los Verdiales of Alora, we thought about the all-encompassing need of humans to unite in the rhythm. Be it verdiales, jungle, or house music. As I attended an open air techno party the day after, I kept hearing verdiales in the background of my thoughts.

It was not all about the sopa perota – there were local stands with wine and olive tasting (the one and only olive from Spain with a DOP signature, aloreña), pitufo con lomo a la manteca colora’a (don’t ask what is it, it’s simply tasty as long as you don’t know!), art work from women’s associations, typical pottery for the soup and much more. Day-drinking from 10 am also sounds like something one could easily do on such a day.

Instead of hiking, we ended up going with the flow of the Soup Day – from stand to stand, interacting with friendly and funny strangers, and even Canal Sur NoticiasThat later my friend’s mom watched.

We were so impressed with the town, its artwork at each step, stunning landscapes and peculiar history. Yet, we did not manage to try the famous soup. The line for 6000 portions went on for hours, making it a great excuse to party, listen to music and spend a lovely, warm October day outside.

What was so special about it? Sharing moments with your friends, spontaneously discovering traditions which have been preserved and celebrated by the generations, in a perfect sunny weather, not too hot anymore. Going to a place A and ending up in a place Z. And that in such a traditional, rural town, there was a safe LGBTQI+ space, same as the elderly, youngsters, guiris, a guy without a T-shirt, or anyone else. This is what I love about Spain: the feeling of belonging, the relaxed inclusion of whomever you are, as long as you’re respectful of others and the place you’re in. There are still so many things which are lacking, more public transportation included, but where we are now, it is not bad either.

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