HOME & HERMITAGE - A-Z Challenge

H is today's letter in the A-Z blog, and I'm starting off with a 100-word story prompted by this photograph.

HOME

“You’re having another baby?” Henry pushed his plate away and stormed out of the house. The train whistle echoed mournfully across the fields as he darted over the tracks and slumped against a tree. A baby! he raged – his life was ruined.

Watching his home being erased frame by frame as the freight cars passed, he was suddenly afraid it might disappear entirely, and the moment the train had gone he raced back home, straight into her arms.

 “I love you, Henry,” she said, kissing his tear-stained face, “And the baby is going to love her big brother.”

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Thanks to Rochelle for the photograph and for hosting Friday Fictioneers. You can read other stories by following the link on her blog  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

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HARKING BACK TO MY A-Z THEME, did you know that Tenerife has its very own saint?

HERMANO PEDRO was born in the mountains of Tenerife, and spent his early years as a goat-herd before he felt called to preach by example by helping the sick in Guatamala.

 There is a HOSPITAL there dedicated to him, but his original cave home - now THE HERMITAGE OF SAN PEDRO - lies directly beneath the western end of the runway of Reina Sofia Airport, Tenerife.

 The airport authorities actually wanted to move it but there was an uproar. The Hermitage is a place of pilgrimage and besides, how can you move a ravine and its caves? 

So Hermano Pedro stayed. A priest says Mass there regularly, and the walls of the cave are festooned with holy pictures and slips of paper containing prayers. One of those prayers is mine. It was answered.

VANS, VOLCANOES & VERY HOT CHILLIS

VERY HOT CHILLIS - my OH does like his chilli plants, and these pencil chillis have just ripened in the past few days. Fancy one?

VEHICLE – In May 1940 Albie and his depleted squad destroy a German tank, losing two more of their own men in the process. After a brief roadside burial they know they have to move fast – the explosion will have attracted attention – but they have no transport.

Thompson turned to Albie and asked, “What now, Corp?” thereby acknowledging that, with the Sergeant dead, they were under Albie’s orders; “Shall we catch up with the others?”

“They’re miles away by now,” Green commented sourly, “And we got no transport.”

“Would this do?” asked Darby, pushing open the shed door, and they crowded inside to stare at the strangest vehicle any of them had ever seen.

            If it had ever been a thing of beauty, the evidence now lay under layers of mud and chicken droppings. A topless, backless box of a cab perched behind the engine, there were no bumpers or headlights, and the open back had obviously been created by taking a saw to whatever bodywork had originally been there. When Paddy rubbed the paintwork of the door with his sleeve they read ‘Marc’s Glaces’ – their new vehicle had started life as an ice-cream VAN.

 We know they reach Dunkirk because Helter-Skelter opens with them on the beach (see my C blog for a snippet) but the full story of their perilous journey through the last stretch of France to get there is at the end of my novel. I think the idea of the ice-cream van lightens the story just a tad.

Imagine something like this but a lot less cared-for!

VILLAFLOR is the highest village in Tenerife, 1400 metres above sea level, but many a clapped-out old van still climbs the precipitous winding road that is its only access. Getting stuck behind one of those is only one of the hazards - in the winter Villaflor is sometimes cut off by snow.

Around 2000 people inhabit this peaceful 16^th century village, living mainly by agriculture and viticulture – the wine is lovely.

Its most famous son was Hermano Pedro, Tenerife’s only official saint, whose cave hermitage is at the other extreme - almost at sea level near El Medano, in a VERY noisy position right next to the airport. The airport authorities wanted this place of pilgrimage closed for security reasons, but everyone said NO! Quite right too – Pedro was there first - but sometimes the planes take off to the west and if you're standing outside the cave the noise is tremendous - I love it!

Living so near to a VOLCANO we claim to be blasé about volcanic activity, but when we see clouds that resemble smoke issuing from a chimney, we do wonder ………

TENERIFE WEEKEND

This might not be the way an average tourist spends a weekend in Tenerife, but I take my visitors to different places. My younger daughter and her husband are staying for nine days, so we started off at the Hermitage of Hermano Pedro which, despite being situated in a ravine at the end of the airport runway, is a wonderfully peaceful spot - except when a plane takes off.

Then we moved on to El Medano  where, having moved a couple of wheelie bins to secure a parking space (naughty!) we walked along the seafront for a coffee and exfoliation - being sand-blasted by the constant wind is part of the fun as you watch the wind-surfers and kite-flyers and intrepid swimmers braving the crashing waves.

 

Then it was supper at home with my other daughter - a real treat to see the girls doing their giggly sister routine!

Sunday morning we were in full tourist mode at Los Cristianos market, haggled for a leather belt, and then had a coffee and a toasted sandwich under the shade of the palm trees.

And finally - this afternoon I made an Apricot Upside-down Cake with Caramel Topping as my contribution to this evening's barbecue on my elder daughter's roof terrace.

If you want the recipe it's on my new Cooking and Recipes page. 

And this is the only writing I have done all day!

JAIL & JUXTAPOSITIONS

JAIL – if you break the law here, particularly if you deal in drugs, the JUDGE will send you to jail before you can blink. The British Consulate can advise you and your family of your rights, but they can’t get you out of jail if you deserve to be in there. There are some expats who dedicate themselves to visiting the inmates, many of whom will have no other visitors, but you might have to wait a couple of years before your actual trial. At least you’ll be fluent in Spanish when you come out.

There are some strange JUXTAPOSITIONS on this island. You might see an old one-storey house crouched between two multi-storey blocks of apartments, or a battered wooden rowing boat pulled ashore beside a streamlined power boat. On the beach could be a black-clad grandmother sitting on a folding chair next to a near-naked girl on a gaudy towel, and mothers in saris or headscarves stand next to women in strappy tops outside the schools.

But the strangest juxtaposition must be that of the airport and the Hermitage, former home of Tenerife’s first and only saint. Hermano Pedro (Brother Peter) was born in 1626 in Villaflor, the highest town in Tenerife. For a while he lived in a cave near the south coast and then he went to join relatives in Guatemala, where he founded a Brotherhood that cared for the poor.

He was made a saint in 2002 and is credited with several miracles.

Although he is buried in Guatemala, his former hermitage in Tenerife is a revered shrine where Mass is said regularly. His small cave is full of flowers, small photos of people in need of his prayers are stuck in the frames of religious pictures, and there is a box of L-plates left there by those who believe Hermano Pedro helped them to pass their driving tests. It is a peaceful place, most of the time.

But the runway lights of Reina Sofia airport straddle the site, and on the busiest days an aeroplane flies overhead every few minutes. Usually they’re taking off, but I was there one day when the wind was blowing in the opposite direction, and a huge JET came into land, JUST skimming the hermitage. I was standing right underneath it. I could see the passengers’ faces, the wheels seemed close enough to touch, and it felt as if the noise was pushing me into the ground. It was, as the youngsters say, awesome!

There is a small house near the seafront in Las Galletas with a visual JOKE on its wall that always makes me smile.

You can JUST see it in this photograph.

Maybe this chap met the Hanging JUDGE?