Holy Week in southern Spain means that everyone hits the streets for the religious processions. Various brotherhoods maintain these floats and go out in the streets in elaborate robes and pointy hoods along with the floats. The beefier guys are under the float, carrying it on their shoulders.
This scene of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem we saw in Granada. The brotherhood might be “of the Holy Cross” for example, or “Saint Mary the Merciful."
Our apartment in El Puerto de Santa Maria used to be a convent. The walls are two feet thick, so it is nice and quiet. I forgot about these on-demand hot water heaters, which I now remember from living here before for two years in 1996. Doesn’t that sound nice? The hot water doesn’t run out until the gas runs out. Unfortunately, they are activated by water pressure, so when you try to add cold water to the boiling hot water, the pressure falls in the heater and it shuts off. So what you really have is no hot water.
Here is Mary resplendent at the resurrection. I supposed they would bring the floats out based on what day it was, in which case this one would be at Easter Sunday, but we saw one like it every day all week. The guys (and girls) in the white hoods are directing the floats for the guys inside. All the other dozens of people in the processions have cones in the hoods to make them point straight up. I am surprised how I have managed not to get a single one in a photo.
Every corner has someone selling fresh potato chips. Wow.
Our street ends at the river two blocks from our house and a pedestrian bridge goes on. Here we are looking back at the town.
The floats are huge, 10 feet tall, and the streets are narrow. As we were leaving the grocery store, John and Peter were sleeping in the Garden of Gesthemane and blocking the exit. Not that I minded. I love the closeup. Plus that is a real olive tree.
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