The Market and Alcoy

About halfway through France, the light on our dashboard that shows the gear started flashing. We looked in the owner's manual and it said it could be an indication of transmission trouble, but that it also sometimes happened if the gas cap wasn't screwed on correctly. The Linguist messed with the gas cap and it stopped flashing...until we were leaving Barcelona. He spent some time Monday researching possible causes and finally called a Honda dealer in Valencia who agreed to look at it. According to their machine, it's a temperature gauge in the transmission...so we're pressing on.

While The Linguist hung out at the Honda place, the kids and I explored the nearest local market. I love the location where they are because we could stand on the balcony and peruse the stalls before we even went out shopping! They had similar offerings to what we find in Ferrara -- shoes, clothes, jewelry and a few other odds and ends. The most interesting find was the box of huge caterpillars at a pet stall! Oh, and the meat department of the Mercado. The Mercado is like a market, but inside. Individual vendors have their wares displayed and there were several fruit and vegetables stands, a nut counter and several meat stands, as well. The boys were immediately drawn to the meat counter that boasted skinned rabbits (whole, but skinned) and a huge head and neck of a turkey, its beady black eyeball still intact! The woman running the stand was very kind in answering all of our questions about exactly what animal each piece of meat had come from, and I'm sure was amused at our ignorance in the world of meat. Probably much like the way we used to laugh and shake our head at the Utah cousins who wanted to eat the calf grain when they visited the farm!

All blood and bugs having been discovered, the younger kids wanted just one turn around the market and then begged to go back to the apartment to play with the dogs. Pianogurl and I dropped them off and then spent an hour or so perusing. She found the perfect purse, and I got a really cute skirt for just 8 euro.

Following the market, we headed to Alcoy to watch a re-enactment of a battle in 700 AD between the Moors and the Christians. This was The Linguist's first area on his mission and his first mission days were actually during this festival! The first thing that struck me about the city was the beautiful blue dome on a huge cathedral. The next, was the fact that nearly everyone was dressed in period costumes -- not just the folks involved in the re-enactment, but the whole city! We eagerly walked up the road to the plaza, afraid that we'd missed the battle by a few minutes. We were pleasantly surprised to find that it had yet to begin and jockeyed for a good position along the edge of the crowd. The first half hour or so was a yelling match between the leader of the Moors and the leader of the Christians. We couldn't understand much of it, and about the time things looked like they were going to take off, Rosa had to go to the bathroom! Thanks goodness for close porta potties!

On "El Puente de Sant Jordi" in Alcoy.  The Linguist crossed this bridge almost daily back in the day.

The men (and a few women) lined up in groups. Apparently, during this particular battle there were many military groups from neighboring areas who came to defend the city against the Moors. Each had their own unique costume, so there was a wide variety in dress among the different groups. We heard a shot that sounded like a cannon and the "battle" began. I was expecting something along the lines of what we had seen in the United States -- maybe 10 minutes of fire. I soon realized we were in for a totally different experience. What we thought was a cannon blast was the shot fired from one of the guns. A Moorish group would fire off 6 shots or so and then a Christian company would answer. Each shot was like a cannon blast -- literally rocking the ground we were standing on. We stood with our fingers in our ears, watching in fascination. About the time "shrapnel" started falling on my head, I looked around and realized that Pianogurl, Rosa and I were now the only spectators sitting as close to the railing as possible, everyone else was squeezed back against the wall of the buildings. We moved back, too! Songbird didn't like the noise and was in tears by this time. It made us all reflect on how horrifying and chaotic it must be to live in a city where a battle is being fought -- let alone to be on the street with the guns.

Near the faux castle in the main square, Alcoy.

We stayed and watched all of the groups march through the square and proceed on their route throughout the city that followed the actual route of the armies during the battle. We stumbled on a victory party in a neighboring square where Lionel Ritchie's "Celebrate" was blasting and people dressed in period costume were dancing, eating, drinking and selling balloons! (that was another of those surreal moments!). We posed for pictures with some folks in costume that we stopped on the street, bought pastries in a little shop and paused for snacks on a bench in a crowded park. All this time we could still hear the gun blasts at regular intervals! We wound through the streets and back to our van and as we left town, the guns were still blasting. Apparently it lasts for 4-5 hours before the final showdown in the plaza...

The Linguist has vivid memories of climbing this hill many times during his time here.

The Linguist has a similar photo.

Gotta love the pastries!