Tuesday, 24 March 2015

La Cobijada - a beautiful impostor.

La Cobijada - a beautiful impostor
 I was taking a walk in Vejer a little while ago when I met Eric and Barbara, a lovely couple from Canada. They told me how much they enjoyed this blog, and asked me why I hadn’t posted recently. 

When I began the blog, I intended to continue for just one year, covering the main social and cultural events in the town. These don’t change very much year on year, and so I decided that one year would be enough. However, thanks to Eric and Barbara, and several others who have missed the blog, I’ve decided to carry on for a while, and there is certainly plenty to write about. 

  
This time, I’d like to discuss the iconic figure of the Cobijada, Vejer’s covered lady. One of the town’s ceramic plaques describes her as ‘a glimpse of old al-Andalus’, and many observers have instinctively connected her flowing black costume with the burqa worn by some Moslem women. In fact, she is an impostor, with no real connections to Islamic Spain.

Covered women, 1926
The burqa, which came to our attention with the ascendency of the Taliban in Afghanistan in the 1990s, has been worn by Afghani women for about 100 years, though the practice of veiling upper-class women dates back at least 4000 years in some parts of Arabia.  However, most women had to work in the fields, where a burqa would be an impediment, and to wear it was a sign of upper-class status, denoting a woman of importance. 

'Preparation for a wedding' Frederick Arthur Bridgman (1847-1928)
 Veiling women became important to Islam in the 11th century, but there is no evidence that the women of el-Andalus wore any garment resembling a burqa. Most of the images available to us now were created in the 19th century and express the prejudices of their time.

When I write about topics like this, I sometimes feel like a real party pooper, because there is no doubt that Vejer’s Moorish heritage has become an important part of the narrative the tourist industry has created around the town's history. As often happens, this tells us more about the present than the past. Since the nineteenth century, when the poet Lord Byron introduced the idea of Romantic orientalism to an admiring public, we westerners have been attracted to the idea of the Mysterious East, and this fascination culminated in the architecture of the Moorish Revival in the late nineteenth century.

It wasn’t always like that. After Vejer was reconquered in the thirteenth century, every effort was made to eradicate the remnants of the Islamic occupation in an early example of what we would now describe as 'ethnic cleansing'. Compared with the Roman occupation, and even the two thousand year old Tartessian culture, there are minimal physical remains of the Moslem era, and this clearly did not happen by accident. 

Dark and modest clothing was obligatory
for all Spanish women
After the area was reconquered in the mid thirteenth century, Moslems were expected to leave or convert. Most chose to leave, and it is calculated that by the 14th century, only 1% of the population was of Moslem origin. About 30% of the post-reconquista population left town when the area came under retaliatory attack from Moorish fighters between 1264 and 1300. For about half a century, Vejer was a military garrison, populated mainly by men, before the area was repopulated by families from northern Spain.

By the end of the Reconquista in 1492, hatred of Jews and Moslems had already descended into racist paranoia. ‘Conversos’, those who converted to Christianity, were mistrusted, and ‘limpieza de sangre’ (purity of blood) was enforced from 1449, prohibiting those of non-Christian heritage from taking public office. Commoners who could show descent from the Visigoths were raised to the nobility, and in the days before DNA testing, pedigrees were hastily assembled or invented to support claims of racial purity. ‘Purity of blood’ continued to be a criterion for entry into the Spanish armed forces until the nineteenth century.

A Spanish lady goes to Mass with her maid.

The emphasis on racial purity had enormous implications for women. Racism brought with it a terror of inter-racial sexuality, with its consequent ‘pollution’ of blood. Women were responsible for upholding the family honour, and their men were expected to control them. They were closely guarded and ‘modest’ clothing was regulated by law as in some Islamic states today. 

All this means that rather than a gradual evolution from Islamic to Christian culture, the breach was violent, sudden and comprehensive. By the sixteenth century, Spain was asserting itself as a bulwark of Catholicism. The Inquisition was set up to police religious correctness, and people would do anything within their means to refute claims that they had Moorish blood. Spain became defiantly and even belligerently Christian. Nobody was about to announce Islamic cultural affiliations by wandering around in a burqa. Not even in a quiet backwater like Vejer.
Christian nuns - The Sisters of Mary Immaculate Queen

So where do the Cobijada coverings originate, and why do they so closely resemble the burqa, chador or niqab worn today by some Moslem women? The answer lies in our shared religious heritage. Jewish women in ancient times were expected to cover their heads whenever they left their homes - according to the Law of Moses, a woman was regarded as immodest ‘If she goes out with her hair unbound, or spins in the street, or speaks with any man.’

This principle survived into the Christian and Islamic faiths which developed from Judaism, and was strongly stated by the Christian evangelist St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians: ‘For if the woman is not covered, let her also be shorn: but if it is a shame for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be covered.’ 

Covered woman, Tarifa, 19th century
The custom of women covering themselves, whose roots are probably cultural rather than ideological, was adopted by the emerging Islamic faith in the 7th century, though ironically, the Qur’an is less specific about this than the Bible, stating only that ‘they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what must ordinarily appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms and not display their beauty except to their husbands.’

Right into the twentieth century, it was customary for women in all Christian countries to cover their heads and their hair. My mother was one of the rebel post-war generation who dared to go bare-headed in the street, though no woman of her generation would have gone hatless into a church.

This is why Christian nuns cover themselves with wimple and veil, many Moslem women wear the burqa or the niqab and Orthodox Jewish women dress modestly and cover their heads. ‘Modesty’ is also required of men, but it takes a different form. 

The coverings we now associate with the Cobijada became fashionable in Madrid in the eighteenth century and the fashion spread south to Andalucia. They soon became the customary outdoor wear of ordinary women, not just in Vejer but all along the coast from Tarifa to Cádiz. This style was also popular in other parts of Spain.

La Cobijada survived longer in Andalucía than in other parts of Spain because the area was very poor. Clothing was passed down from mother to daughter, patched, pressed and altered for each new generation.

Modern coverings lined with red satin.
The Cobijada coverings consist of two parts - the manto, a sleeveless cape which covers the upper body, and the saya, a long, pleated skirt, gathered at the waistband. The garments were made of gabardine, and like the burqa, provided ‘instant respectability’ for any woman who needed to leave the house for while. It was a smart and useful outfit, and could be lined with satin to make it more comfortable. Its fitting waist and sensuous folds emphasised a feminine shape while maintaining a touch of mystery.

The manto could be loosed from the woman’s top and allowed to hang over her skirt when she needed to use her hands and arms, and she could also pull it over her head and hold it closed with her teeth, one eye peeping out as in the standard depiction. In many ways, it was a useful flirting accessory. But the Cobijada clothing was banned in the early twentieth century when civil unrest made it useful for disguising weapons, and the outfit began a steady decline. It was initially discouraged by the Franco regime which opposed regional culture and in the austere first years of the regime the garments were cut up and made into other things. 

Although Cobijada women could still be seen in Vejer in the 1970s, these women were older and in general they kept their coverings for certain special occasions. Nowadays, there is a resurgence in the popularity of the costume and an annual competition to find the senior and junior Cobijadas of the year. La Cobijada has become a Vejer icon and one of the things which give the town its special identity.



Moorish and Christian women play chess in Islamic Spain
A pre-reconquista image shows a Moslem and a Christian women playing chess together. Their clothes are surprisingly similar, but there’s one important difference. While Christian women were expected to wear long skirts, the Moslem woman wears baggy trousers under a tunic. This is the real difference between Christian and Moslem dress. While a Christian woman could be punished and even burned for wearing trousers, many Middle Eastern women were expected to wear them, and they are still normal wear for some women in the region.


Blanca Gortari's colourful Cobijadas.

Monday, 22 December 2014

The Living Nativity: a beautiful way to begin Christmas.

The Zambombá

Like many refugees from the more materialistic British Christmas, I love to spend the season of goodwill in Vejer. Rather than struggling to heap up extravagant gifts for ever more demanding youngsters, or toiling over a giant turkey roast, it's relaxing to be in a place where Christmas is a bit more about community and family. The little town is bright with lights and Christmas music will play throughout the Christmas season. These are things we can all share, and the streets are crowded with people, not stressing about finding that final gift but enjoying a celebratory outing with family and friends. Gifts are not exchanged until January 6th, leaving Christmas itself free for socialising.

Two street events dominate the run-up to Christmas: the Zambombá and the Living Nativity. The Zambombá is a social event which often takes place in the late afternoon. The traditional format includes a brazier to keep participants warm, food, sometimes complementary, and live performance of popular Christmas songs. If you are lucky, you could even see the eccentric musical instrument the event is named after, the Zambombá, a kind of friction drum which in German-speaking countries is delightfully named the Rummelpott. The up-and-down action of this instrument can cause hilarity among foreign visitors, but it's fascinating to visit a traditional zambombá where this unique sound can be heard.

The other big public event, the Living Nativity, takes place on the Sunday before Christmas day, and it is only one of several nativities which can be seen around town. If you are lucky enough to get an invitation to one of the schools' nativities which are held at the end term, you'll be charmed by the inventiveness of the event, not a theatrical one, as in the UK and the USA, but a series of tableaux in which every child gets to take part.

The main event, however, involves the streets of the old town and most of its inhabitants in a recreation of the entire town of Bethlehem, with its craftspeople, animals, and of course, its Holy Family. King Herod, accompanied by a bevy of dancers, Pontius Pilate with his Roman soldiers and the Three Kings are all depicted, despite the fact that they don't appear in the accounts of Christ's birth which appear in the gospels of St. Luke and St. Matthew.

The tradition of the nativity seems to have started in the thirteenth century, with St. Francis of Assisi. The saint deplored the materialism and commercialisation of Christmas celebrations and wanted to
put the emphasis back onto the spritual meaning of the Christian festival, suggesting that nothing much has changed in seven hundred years. The first nativities were, as Vejer's, living nativities which involved animals and children, mobilising most of the resources of the medieval village.

Since then, the nativity has become a popular event in every Christian country, though its form has evolved differently according to the cultures which presented it. While northern countries adopted the theatrical tradition of the medieval mystery plays, the living nativity has remained popular in southern Europe and the Spanish and Italian versions are regularly presented on television.

Both Vejer and Medina Sidonia present living nativities and both are well worth seeing for anyone, religious or not,  who wants to experience the rich and vibrant culture of out town and to enjoy the wit and creativity of its inhabitants.







The sevillanas dance.



Adrián Brenes and Cristina Zájara dance Sevillanas at the Hotel Fuerte in Conil
Feria is over and it’s time for Vejer to get back to normal. Shops and restaurants have reopened and the countdown to summer has started in earnest.

Before the memories fade, it’s a good time to remember that typical event of feria, the sevillanas dance which can be seen in every caseta from the Horse Club to the Partida Popular. Sevillanas are danced in Andalucía whenever there is something to celebrate, be it a wedding, a birthday or just a party, and many people have some expertise. You don’t have to be a skilled flamenco dancer to dance sevillanas because it is not a flamenco dance but an old folk-dance which was influenced by flamenco after that style emerged in the late eighteenth century.

Despite the name, sevillanas did not originate in Seville, though they are now identified with that region. They came from the Castille region and evolved from an older dance form called seguidillas.

Sevillanas is a couple dance, but there is no pressure to team up with a partner of the opposite sex and it is now more usual to see women dancing together. Nevertheless, the dance describes the process of courtship. There is very little touching between partners because when the dance evolved, courting couples had to dance it under the watchful eyes of parents and grandparents who were constantly on the lookout for any impropriety, but despite this, the dance has an erotic quality, especially when performed by seasoned professionals.

Sevillanas follow a strict choreography. The dance is divided into four sections and each one is a separate ‘sevillana’. Each sevillanas consists of three parts, or ‘coplas’ which combine a variety of steps. The most important steps are the basic ‘sevillana’ step, the ‘pasada’ where the two dancers cross each other to reverse positions and the ‘cierre’ which closes each sevillana. It takes about four minutes to dance the full set. 

Dancing Sevillanas at Feria is part of the Andalusian way of life.

 The sevillanas we see here in Vejer is just one of several different forms you can see in various parts of Andalucía, which include Romeros de la Puebla and Corraleros de Lebrija. These different forms share the unmistakable ¾ rhythm and the characteristic tone of celebratory gaiety, as well as a number of similar steps.

I once tried to learn sevillanas with the help of my friend Adrián Brenes, a professional flamenco dancer. Adrián has a cupboard at home bursting with awards he has won for dancing sevillanas. When he dances with his friend Cristina Zájara, the couple seem to float above the ground, inspired by angels.You can see them dance sevillanas here:
 However, despite his skill as a dancer and a teacher, Adrián didn’t make much progress with me. I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time and I couldn’t help wondering why my feet had been placed so far away from my brain. Combining the feet and arm movements was difficult and in the end I gave up in despair.

Since then, I’ve looked carefully at the way sevillanas are danced by everyday mortals, and it’s clear that they often don’t follow the prescribed sequence of steps. Keeping to the rhythm and remembering the pasadas and arm movements appear to be the priority and what the feet are doing is often concealed by the generous skirts of the ‘traje flamenca’. Many men particularly, are skilled at combining the maximum effect with the minimum effort.

Dancing sevillanas is something we can all do in our own way, but even if you don’t want to take part, this colourful dance is an essential part of feria.

You can see part of Carlos Saura’s film ‘Sevillanas’ here.


Tuesday, 2 December 2014

Arte Vejer: a home for artists.




It’s been a while since I added to this blog. The busy summer, several trips overseas and the loss of my camera, not to mention my novel ‘The Three Witches’ have all kept me away from my page. Now it’s time to come back with some exciting news about a new community association which will benefit anyone who is interested in the visual arts in our town.

Walking around the town on a Saturday morning, you might have noticed a posse of artists sketching one of our many beautiful buildings or fascinating corners. These are the Vejer Sketchers, a group of artists linked to the international ‘Urban Sketchers’ movement, who devote their Saturday mornings to creating art from the street. One of the sketchers is Vejer artist Sol Muniain, who last year held a successful exhibition at the shop ‘Ya En Tu Casa’ on the Corredera.

For some time now, Sol has had a dream. A permanent space where artists could meet to share their skills and show their work, where contacts could be made, information exchanged and the profile of art in the area could be raised. The contribution of Vejer’s informal exhibition spaces, The Tetería del Califa, the Tetería Chokolata and Ya En Tu Casa, as well as the Casa del Arco gallery and the Ayuntamiento’s Casa de la Cultura can’t be underestimated, but there was a need for a permanent centre, somewhere which would act as a focus and a point of reference for art all the year round.


Preparing for the inaugural exhibition
Sol’s dream took a big step forward this autumn when she had the chance to tell the Mayor of Vejer, José Ortiz Galvan, what she had in mind. He was enthusiastic about her ideas and offered the support of the Ayuntamiento, including the possibility of using premises owned by the local authority to kick-start the project.

Since then, plans have moved forward rapidly. Five individuals have united to create a steering committee for the project, and documentation has been prepared to make a formal presentation to the Mayor and council. This will take place on Wednesday December 3rd. The project has been named ‘Arte Vejer’ and an application has been made to register the project as an official community organisation.


Sketching on the roof of the Casa de la Cultura
Arte Vejer already has a well-supported Facebook page and will shortly appear on Twitter and email. Its aims are two-fold: to create networks and display spaces for artists and to provide access to art education for the whole community. The project has already attracted support from local artists and will make its debut at the Casa de la Cultura on Sunday December 7th, as part of the Vejer Open Town day, when an exhibition of work by the Vejer Sketchers and a open art workshop will be offered as part of the event. For anyone who is interested, it’s a great opportunity to find out more and maybe get involved.

November 2016


Visitors to the popular inaugural exhibition
Since I wrote this blog in 2014, many people have seen it and it's about time I gave an update on Arte Vejer's progress. In fact, the project has gone from strength to strength in the two years since Sol first put the wheels into motion and has become a feature of Vejer life, with many different events and classes being offered.

Arte Vejer was inaugurated on Vejer Open Day in December 2014, when Vejer sketchers produced an exhibition of watercolours in the Casa de la Cultura. This proved extremely popular and the video which played throughout the day is still available on YouTube. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6mBHBnLo1c


Arte Vejer judged a schools' art exhibition
The inauguration was followed by a fund-raising Christmas party at the Peña Flamenca Alquilar de Vejer just before Christmas. Twenty or more local cafes and restaurants contributed food for this buffet which raised some useful working capital for the group. 

In 2015, Arte Vejer was formally registered as one of Vejer's recognised cultural associations, a big step which brought changes with it. Arte Vejer was now expected to provide education and cultural development for the whole community, and this aspect has proved to be an enormous success, with courses in life drawing, graffiti, and everything in between. Children's activities have proved especially successful, and in 2015, Arte Vejer was asked to judge an art competition in local schools. A video of one children's art activity can be seen here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XQN4AZMDuQ

 One of the group's group's most spectacular event occurred in the spring of 2016 when artists took to the street for a 'walking exhibition'. Holding their work aloft, and accompanied by a drum band, artists paraded the town, drawing an admiring audience. The event included flamenco dance and a drumming display.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIfzJlolTlc
The walking exhibition was a huge success
The Mayor visits the inaugural exhibition in the Castle
A big breakthrough came earlier this year when the souvenir shop on the Castle closed and the Ayuntamiento offered the premises to Arte Vejer as a base and exhibition space. The group has
made good use of the opportunity and has used the space to mount exhibitions and courses on a wide-ranging basis, including photography and design as well as painting.


One of Arte Vejer's many workshops at the Castle centre
Since Arte Vejer began, changes have inevitably occurred. Sol resigned the post of president earlier in 2016 when she and her family moved away from Vejer, but visits regularly and keeps in close contact. The new president, Ismael Virués, an architect who has been involved with Arte Vejer from the outset, works untiringly for the group and has developed it as a vital and innovative institution from which the whole town benefits.

Arte Vejer is on Facebook: 

https://www.facebook.com/Arte-Vejer-735346356547740/?fref=ts

The committee at the castle centre










Sunday, 7 September 2014

Manuel Torres - Father of the Poor.


Calle Escudero. Manuel Torres is on the left, the other side of the bread shop.
It's been a hectic summer here in Vejer, and I take my hat off to the Ayuntimiento for their persistence and efficiency in managing a virtually non-stop programme of events and entertainment. Variety of pace is one of the delights of living here, and after the crush and squeeze of the August Velada, it’s pleasant to find the town a little quieter as the first days of autumn begin. I’ve started my early morning walks through the town again and am relishing the morning mists, my friends, the street cats, and the first signs of life as the town wakes up to another day.

One thing I couldn’t ignore is the work being done on Calle Manuel Torres, which rises to Lanería from Juan Relinque, turning upwards opposite Altozano. This part of town developed in the 18th century, when tradesmen and wealthier artisans began to move out to the suburbs beyond the Convento San Francisco. Several large houses survived the earthquake of 1773, but new building continued throughout the 19th and 20th centuries.


The current project will repair and renew the cobbled street surface, making it more accessible to disabled users, improve the pavements and lay down pipelines for utilities and future fibre-optic cable. This will make it safer and more comfortable to use and provide better access to services for all its residents.


Calle Manuel Torres now contains several large and impressive residences, which once would have housed big households including servants and members of the extended family. Several of these, alas, have fallen into disrepair, though others have been restored. It was in one of these houses that a tragic event occurred in August 1869.

Until recently, Calle Manuel Torres was called ‘Calle Yeseros’ after the members of the plastering trade who once congregated there, and the old street sign is still visible, a piece of Vejer’s history that we can read right off the walls. In the twentieth century, however, it was named after a famous Vejeriego who lived and died there - the crusading rebel turned politician, Manuel Torres.

After the proclamation of the Constitution from Cadiz in 1812, Spanish politics polarised into liberal and conservative factions. Confusingly, these became known as the moderate liberals, the conservatives, who did not support the Constitution, and the progressive liberals, who did. For the next century, control would oscillate between these two factions, and many violent and lawless acts ensued in the process of maintaining the balance of power. Between 1823 and 1874, there was a rebellion somewhere in Spain on average every ten months.



Manuel Torres was very much a progressive. A lawyer by profession, in March 1831, he was one of the young rebels who supported the attempted revolution led by Cristóbal Jurado and his associates, and spent several months in prison for his pains. By 1840, however, he had become the leader of Vejer’s progressive liberals and the Mayor of Vejer, in which role he quickly acquired heroic status for his efforts on behalf of the people. During his time in office, Vejer’s council transferred much of its property into the hands of the poor, and about a thousand country people received a holding of some kind. He was soon being described as ‘the father of the poor’.

By 1869, however, the balance of power had shifted in the other direction, and a conservative mayor was in power in Vejer. Torres, now in his sixties, continued as a councillor on the opposing side, causing untold annoyance to his opponents. At 11 o’clock on August 26th of that year, he was resting at home when his wife, Carmen, answered a knock on the door of their home at 8 Calle Yeseros (now number 20). She received two visitors, who asked for her husband, and left them to talk in the patio while she attended to a request from the maid. A few moments later, she heard her husband call out ‘Carmen, they are killing me!’ She ran downstairs to find her husband doubled up in his chair with blood pouring from his side. He stood up, took two steps towards her, and collapsed.

The two visitors were arrested the following day, and one of them admitted responsibility for the murder. He was imprisoned, but released almost at once on payment of a large sum of money collected by the town’s conservative community. The maid was bribed and Carmen was declared to have been so unbalanced by her ordeal as to be unable to make an identification. Despite his confession, the murderer took his place in society again as though nothing had happened.

Carmen never recovered from the shock of the event and the injustice of its resolution, and for years, she could not bring herself to move Manuel’s bloodied clothes from where they lay in the patio. The motivation for the murder, however, was probably not political. Historian Antonio Muñoz discovered evidence that Manuel Torres had angered the two men by acting against them in the matter of a will. The political element probably only emerged in the manner in which the murder was dismissed and the murderer absolved by the current administration.



Manual Torres' house, now number 20 on the street named after him.
Manuel Torres' house still stands on the corner of the street which bears his name, though it is now unoccupied and neglected. It seems a shame that a site so significant in the history of Vejer should not be better loved.










Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Casa Palacio - Vejer's own Castle.


With the summer season in full swing, there have been more events in Vejer this last month than one blog can cope with. Now, as August begins, we’re looking forward to the annual Velada, though if you live in the area of the Plaza de España, Los Remedios or the Corredera, your anticipation may be tinged with foreboding. Meanwhile, I was delighted to read a short while ago that the Mayor  has signed a document which will eventually bring the Castle into the ownership of the people of Vejer.
Although the oldest architectural remains in the castle date from the Islamic era, the Castle almost certainly dates back to pre-Roman times. Its prominent position on one of the highest points of Vejer would have been a natural choice for any community’s defences. 

Many ancient legends concern the Castle, the most enduring of which is the story of the underground passage between the Castle and La Barca. Because Vejer has no natural water supply except that which falls from the sky, the town and castle were susceptible to sieges when, surrounded by their enemies, they could do nothing but pray for rain.

The legend says that a secret underground passage was therefore constructed to provide a water supply. Since underground chambers and even cities have existed since the Bronze Age, this claim is not impossible, especially if the tunnel engineers followed a natural fault line or even a system of interlinking caves.

Another legend claims that in the 13th century, a beautiful young woman called María discovered the tunnel during a Moorish guerilla attack. However, although she later married the bandit chief, she never put her home town at risk by revealing the existence of the secret passage. 

True or not, the underground passage has a large place in Vejer’s folklore, though no trace of it has ever been discovered. The Romans almost certainly carried water over the valley from Santa Lucía, using a system of aqueducts still visible today, and presumably had no need of a tunnel.

After the Islamic era ended in the 13th century, incoming occupants made radical changes to the building, destroying the Islamic façade and increasing the fortifications. During the first years of the Reconquista, the Castle saw much bloodshed as Moorish retaliations were repelled, or as sometimes happened, Moorish guerillas temporarily regained control.
However, by the 17th century, the Castle had been adapted to residential use, and became the Vejer home of the Dukes of Medina Sidonia. During this era, living accommodation was situated on the first floor, with kitchen, stables and other utilities on the ground floor. The living accommodation was on the two sides above the archways, and the rooms looking out onto the military enclosure would have been formal apartments.
All this changed in the mid 19th century when an act of parliament withdrew the property rights of the church and aristocracy. The Castle was converted into apartments and a covered walkway on the first floor gave access to the different dwellings. By the beginning of the twentieth century, the Castle was in the hands of three different private owners.

The first steps towards acquiring the Castle for the people of Vejer were taken as early as 1914, when the Ayuntimiento bought a third share from Don Pedro María Muñoz de Arenillas Narváez Cabeza de Vaca. These rooms were used for many years as a school.


The school in the castle

  In 1931, the Castle was declared to be a ‘National Treasure of Spain’ and in 1985, a ‘site of national interest’. The living accommodation is now empty, but in recent years, the Ayuntimiento has established a dance school on the ground floor and the stables have been restored and put to use as a museum of everyday life in the mid 19th century. There is now a gift shop in the old kitchen and the patio has been opened as a place of refuge and relaxation.

Despite this, however, on taking office, the current council agreed that it was inappropriate for the majority ownership of a resource of the importance of the Castle to remain in private hands and it was decided that the bulding should be purchased by the Ayuntimiento as a public resource for use as a museum and cultural space. In June, 2014, an agreement to purchase a further third of the property was signed with Don Joachím Pastor Pérez, with every intention to purchase the final third as soon as it is available.





















The old kitchen is now a gift shop