Self catering holiday rental accommodation in the Alpujarras, Andalucia, southern Spain

This is my page, and that's me, sniffing the air. As pedigree dachshund in chief, and officially awarded a prize as best puppy in my class - see link here - my job is quality control and looking after the welfare of the guests staying at Cortijo Opazo. Big responsibility, don't know how I find time for it all, but I think I'm doing OK. Anyway, on this page I bring you up to date with the various happenings at Cortijo Opazo and the world around us. I welcome comments, just adress them to Oska at info@cortijoopazo.com. Thanks for reading!

By the way, I am supposed to mention that it's a pretty fab place for a holiday.

Click here to see past blogs:

July2011

June 2011

May 2011

April 2011

March 2011

Feb 2011

Jan 2011

Blog from 2010

Culture and Horticulture

Friday August 5th 2011

Well, all this is very new to me, summer, fiestas and cultural weeks, but here we are, in August and they are all in full throng - whatever a throng is, probably something a human might wear. Fireworks seem to explode in the sky at random, there are many more visitors in the area than normal, and Pórtugos is having a cultural week. Not sure if it includes a dog show, but we did get to meet the local village vet last weekend who seemed most impressed at my lineage and my lines. As part of this week of culture a visit from the village to our garden was organised, starting from the village square at 7.30pm and walking down the hill to our house. At about 8.00pm last night a long line of people arrived, of all ages including a grandmother, or Ya ya, as she was called. They all seemed very impressed by the place and made some kind comments about what had been done and how much hard work it must have been. Many of the group were quite elderly and were keen to tell us how the cortijo and the land had been in the past. One man said that he was born in the house when it was still a working farm and another told us how, after it had become a ruin, he used to keep the sheep in there - so he is the one the two humans have to thank for the pile of manure that came free with the house. They could tell us where the fruiting cherries used to be and where the irrigation water used to flow, about how the 'camino' passed by before the road was put in. The man, Antonio, who was bron in the house was most impressed by the garden and kept staring at it, with more than a passing interest. It turns out that, having left the house when he was 11 and having spend 30 years living in Germany he was now back living in a town near Granada, earning his living as a gardener. So, you see, looking at our garden where there had been subsistence agriculture he really had come home.

We've had more visitors from the village this week. There is a group called 'Taller de Empleo', it is like a sort of training scheme for unemployed people. This scheme has based itself around planting and growing, and has created a small propagation nursery high above Pórtugos. Well, without any warning, they descended on us on Wednesday, with their leader, Mari José, and tutor, Pepe. Bearing presents for the humans, they asked if they could tour the garden, and off they went, Pepe shouting out the names of all the plants he could recognise whilst the 'class' trailed behind. They were most surprised by what they saw and have promised to come back in September to make us some plant labels in Spanish.

My human companions have been doing a little working away from home this week. As a result of one of their tasty lunches in the garden in May - see here - they were asked if they would consider doing some outside catering for a post wedding party. They spent a little time procrastinating, but the conclusion was that in for a penny, in for quite a few euros. Well, the income would certainly boost the holiday fund. So, four days of hectic shopping chopping and cooking, then they were off, like Mr Whippy, in a car full of food. Eight hours later they returned, looking exhausted and with a tone of 'Never again' about them, but by all accounts it went off well and the food received no end of compliments. I think William could retire tomorrow if he put out a patent for his Black Rice salad. I do think it a shame that they didn't get to try Robert's Mulberry ice cream. Ella and I sat waiting for them patiently, but do you think they brought a doggy bag back? I know, outrageous isn't it.

I just popped out for a quick break and a sniff around, and I would like to record for you a conversation I heard that really does let the side down when it comes to culture. To explain, my noble breed is not know as a dachshund in Spain, nor in most parts of Europe; it is a Teckel that I am called, which sounds like tickle, and I like these, so I'm not complaining. Anyway, I was standing by the side of the road, waiting for the breeze to bring me new scents, when I saw three girls, or young women walking down the hill towards me. I am quite cute and am used to the attention of passers by, unlike Ella who frightens them off, barking. One of these girls, the more sensible one, clearly, said to the other (and now I am translating from Spanish for you):

"Ah, look at that teckel."

The other girl looked in the direction of her point then her faced screwed itself up as though she had seen a dead rat covered in sour cream.

"Urgh", she said, "What is it?"

"A teckel", her friend explained, helpfully.

Cautiously the girl with the distorted face approached me. "A teckel, it's a bit strange isn' it?"

"No," said her friend, "It's not strange, it's a teckel."

Really, the things I have to put up with, I wanted to shout out that I was a pedigree teckel, winner of best puppy in group 4 in the national dog show in Granada, February 2011 - if you want to see my moment of glory again click here. But perhaps I shouldn't spend so much time sniffing things that have been left in the gutter, I am, after all, a teckel, and what's so strange about that?

Yours, indignant,

Oska

To view the July 2011 blog, click here.