My work circumstances had made it impossible for our trip to Mallorca during the summer of 1988, but thanks to that, we had the opportunity to spend a couple of weeks in Albalate de Zorita, the birthplace of my mother, Pilar .
difficult to describe the feelings that I produced my first visit to Albalate. As a good commuter that era, had traveled very little to a rural area. By then, we can say that there was practically no global hobby rural tourism. Citizens remained in their homes, and some people were riding the same for long-stay. Pilar was very happy to teach the environment where he had spent much of his childhood, especially during the summer months.
first thing that struck me was the arrival at the house of my mother. A two-leaf gate opened into a wide corridor, more than two meters, with tile flooring garbancillo and covered by an arbor impressive. Since there is no home. We must move ten or twelve yards to enter a courtyard, in front of the house itself. The house has two floors, plus the ground floor. It is difficult to get to that house and no one is sitting under the front porch, in a frame surrounded by roses and other plants as professionally care Pepe, my father. Or the shadow of a medlar bearing fruit as the most, in a wicker chair half-circle of those who invite snoring without any consideration. Typically, those who are sitting most of the time part of the large family of Pilar, silent when they hear the gate of the entrance sign that someone has entered. When the visitor is trustworthy, from the same area of \u200b\u200bthe arbor, but none that are sitting on the porch has seen him yet, announces its arrival to break the silence of those who wait, receive him with affection. Have been countless Friday evenings in summer, in which I have, almost always at the same time, and Sergio Pilar and I waited in the porch, resting it, and Sergio playing with playmobil, their "fillers", as he called them a few unclassifiable toys we bought once, or a toy that was fashionable at that time.
That first time there was a flood of family members who wanted to know, and spent the summer in town. The first I saw was Angel, a brother of Pilar mother, who told me that in the past, there came a stranger who had driven to a village wedding, had to pay "the patent", ie invite a round to all parishioners and relatives of the girl, if you do not want to risk him thrown into the pile. The pylon that turns out to be an ancient Arabic source, next to the road through the village, and has a filling and emptying very curious. In a couple of times Pilar and I had the opportunity to visit inside. The maze of galleries of stone that runs through the interior is really a work of architecture worthy of study.
Albalate is located in the middle region of the Alcarria, in an area that in ancient times, was dominated by a place called Zorita of dogs, and today is the smallest town in the area. Zorita nuclear power plant, the first in Spain. It is situated right beside the Tagus River, in one of the more width of the waterway. From the Chateau de Zorita, in utter ruin, you can see spectacular scenery, with the Tagus at your feet, and Recópolis, a Visigoth settlement that, at that time was not yet visited. Pilar was delighted, explaining each of the places we visited, its history and, above all, the traditions of her childhood that were linked to him. I learned so, small. Made excursions from time to time, to leg, the source of San Antonio, near Almonacid de Zorita, the neighboring town to Albalate. They also organized excursions to the dam Bolarque, an environment that is also an important piece of engineering, the birth of what is Tajo-Segura. Cuesta assimilate, when viewed for the first time, that the two giant metal tubes located at the foot of the mountain can be pumped out the water, which reaches the swamp of Bujeda, situated at a height above the marsh Bolarque so that from there you enter a channel that reaches the same Murcia.
spent unforgettable days in Albalate. I met a great number of primes of Pilar, and their relatives, and visited almost every corner of the county. I also discovered the silence of the night for the first time in my life. Until then, he had been unable, as a good commuter that was, to circumvent the night whispering when no noise, great city. In Albalate got it. A silence that could chew. I tried several beds, located in the upper area. My first nap in a room which had warned me it was hot, proved disastrous, when I woke up soaked in sweat. Finally I decided on a bed just above the room of my in-laws. Logically, it has not yet been seen, and we choose Pilar and I, who sleep in the same room with my girlfriend for less than a year. I did not mind at all. That bed was, and still even today, an oasis of transcendental meditation. I remember not so long and so deeply asleep anywhere else. Some sometimes exceeded and that first time, I got up at one o'clock for lunch, threw me after a nap, I woke up at dinner time and went back to bed until the next day. As if I'd bitten by a tsetse fly.
Pilar was at home in the village. Everyone loved her dearly, and our trips to the supermarket, the post of churros, or newsstand, became endless, as it stopped every few steps to say hello and introduce myself. A Albalate Crashing to buy, especially in summer, the inhabitants of the New Sierra de Madrid, apparently the urbanization of Europe's largest houses, and one of the oldest. For the "Mar de Castilla" is also referred to a place invaded by pine trees, granite and water from two reservoirs that bathe.
Albalate was a very important part of our relationship. Even though Madrid was (and thanks to that fact I got rid of paying the patent called me Angel), Pilar had deep roots in that place. His childhood and adolescence had been marked by their outputs to the peoples of the area for summer parties, for their first (and only) bike and his friends, cousins, and especially his cousins, with whom shared a room on many occasions, his family and all that environment of serenity and peace that it was impossible to find in Madrid. Of that first contact was a movie shot with a huge Sony, which I think is lost in the abyss of the different moves. At the same we saw trotting down the Noguerón Pilar, their cousins \u200b\u200band me on top of the castle Zorita, in front of the cemetery and other landmarks. It is very likely that someday appear, do not rule.
Albalate arise many times in this page. Much of our life together was spent in that place.
difficult to describe the feelings that I produced my first visit to Albalate. As a good commuter that era, had traveled very little to a rural area. By then, we can say that there was practically no global hobby rural tourism. Citizens remained in their homes, and some people were riding the same for long-stay. Pilar was very happy to teach the environment where he had spent much of his childhood, especially during the summer months.
first thing that struck me was the arrival at the house of my mother. A two-leaf gate opened into a wide corridor, more than two meters, with tile flooring garbancillo and covered by an arbor impressive. Since there is no home. We must move ten or twelve yards to enter a courtyard, in front of the house itself. The house has two floors, plus the ground floor. It is difficult to get to that house and no one is sitting under the front porch, in a frame surrounded by roses and other plants as professionally care Pepe, my father. Or the shadow of a medlar bearing fruit as the most, in a wicker chair half-circle of those who invite snoring without any consideration. Typically, those who are sitting most of the time part of the large family of Pilar, silent when they hear the gate of the entrance sign that someone has entered. When the visitor is trustworthy, from the same area of \u200b\u200bthe arbor, but none that are sitting on the porch has seen him yet, announces its arrival to break the silence of those who wait, receive him with affection. Have been countless Friday evenings in summer, in which I have, almost always at the same time, and Sergio Pilar and I waited in the porch, resting it, and Sergio playing with playmobil, their "fillers", as he called them a few unclassifiable toys we bought once, or a toy that was fashionable at that time.
That first time there was a flood of family members who wanted to know, and spent the summer in town. The first I saw was Angel, a brother of Pilar mother, who told me that in the past, there came a stranger who had driven to a village wedding, had to pay "the patent", ie invite a round to all parishioners and relatives of the girl, if you do not want to risk him thrown into the pile. The pylon that turns out to be an ancient Arabic source, next to the road through the village, and has a filling and emptying very curious. In a couple of times Pilar and I had the opportunity to visit inside. The maze of galleries of stone that runs through the interior is really a work of architecture worthy of study.
Albalate is located in the middle region of the Alcarria, in an area that in ancient times, was dominated by a place called Zorita of dogs, and today is the smallest town in the area. Zorita nuclear power plant, the first in Spain. It is situated right beside the Tagus River, in one of the more width of the waterway. From the Chateau de Zorita, in utter ruin, you can see spectacular scenery, with the Tagus at your feet, and Recópolis, a Visigoth settlement that, at that time was not yet visited. Pilar was delighted, explaining each of the places we visited, its history and, above all, the traditions of her childhood that were linked to him. I learned so, small. Made excursions from time to time, to leg, the source of San Antonio, near Almonacid de Zorita, the neighboring town to Albalate. They also organized excursions to the dam Bolarque, an environment that is also an important piece of engineering, the birth of what is Tajo-Segura. Cuesta assimilate, when viewed for the first time, that the two giant metal tubes located at the foot of the mountain can be pumped out the water, which reaches the swamp of Bujeda, situated at a height above the marsh Bolarque so that from there you enter a channel that reaches the same Murcia.
spent unforgettable days in Albalate. I met a great number of primes of Pilar, and their relatives, and visited almost every corner of the county. I also discovered the silence of the night for the first time in my life. Until then, he had been unable, as a good commuter that was, to circumvent the night whispering when no noise, great city. In Albalate got it. A silence that could chew. I tried several beds, located in the upper area. My first nap in a room which had warned me it was hot, proved disastrous, when I woke up soaked in sweat. Finally I decided on a bed just above the room of my in-laws. Logically, it has not yet been seen, and we choose Pilar and I, who sleep in the same room with my girlfriend for less than a year. I did not mind at all. That bed was, and still even today, an oasis of transcendental meditation. I remember not so long and so deeply asleep anywhere else. Some sometimes exceeded and that first time, I got up at one o'clock for lunch, threw me after a nap, I woke up at dinner time and went back to bed until the next day. As if I'd bitten by a tsetse fly.
Pilar was at home in the village. Everyone loved her dearly, and our trips to the supermarket, the post of churros, or newsstand, became endless, as it stopped every few steps to say hello and introduce myself. A Albalate Crashing to buy, especially in summer, the inhabitants of the New Sierra de Madrid, apparently the urbanization of Europe's largest houses, and one of the oldest. For the "Mar de Castilla" is also referred to a place invaded by pine trees, granite and water from two reservoirs that bathe.
Albalate was a very important part of our relationship. Even though Madrid was (and thanks to that fact I got rid of paying the patent called me Angel), Pilar had deep roots in that place. His childhood and adolescence had been marked by their outputs to the peoples of the area for summer parties, for their first (and only) bike and his friends, cousins, and especially his cousins, with whom shared a room on many occasions, his family and all that environment of serenity and peace that it was impossible to find in Madrid. Of that first contact was a movie shot with a huge Sony, which I think is lost in the abyss of the different moves. At the same we saw trotting down the Noguerón Pilar, their cousins \u200b\u200band me on top of the castle Zorita, in front of the cemetery and other landmarks. It is very likely that someday appear, do not rule.
Albalate arise many times in this page. Much of our life together was spent in that place.
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