A Musical Night in Cádiz

We came to Cádiz because there is a Mac store where we hoped to buy a new battery for my iPhone, which is failing fast.  It’s rather a strange reason to visit a city, especially the city known for being the longest-inhabited city in Europe, with many architectural and archaeological sights to see.  But the iPhone brought us here.

The Mac store is on a side street that the camper couldn’t get down, so Joe dropped me off and I walked down the tiny alleyway, found a man at the store who spoke English, and quickly determined that it would take two weeks to get a battery. Joe called to let me know that he had pulled into an emergency parking area not far away, so I headed toward him. On the way, I saw a tourist office and stopped in to ask where we might park the camper to sightsee a bit. The clerk told me how to find a surface parking area right beside the ocean.  I hopped into the camper and guided Joe there.  It was perfect – an easy walk to the downtown area and most of the sights.  The man at the gate said that they had a special fee for campervans that wanted to park overnight – 3€!  We decided on the spot to spend the night in Cádiz, and immediately set about exploring this amazing city.

First we went out to lunch and then came back to the van for a quick siesta (me) and read (Joe).  Then we set out again to see the sights.  After almost nine miles of walking through the streets of Cádiz  where we ate tapas, bought groceries, charged up Joe’s European phone, bought postcards and walked the ramparts of the city, we returned to the parking lot at about 8pm.  It seemed surprisingly full and active.  There was a guy with a big bass drum and a couple others with trumpets – cornets, really – playing random music beside their cars.  We got into the camper to fix our dinner. 

Joe noted that we might have a noisy night, as the cranes that pick up shipping containers in the shipyard next door showed no sign of quitting for the night, and lowered one with a resounding boom every five minutes or so.  But soon that noise was almost forgotten as more brass instruments and drums showed up, and random tunes and bleating notes seemed to go on an on, punctuated occasionally by the booming shipping containers. I laughed and told Joe, if there were a bunch of people gathering to play random instruments in Charlottesville, I would so be there, but this felt very strange, in a strange town, in a foreign country, in the dark.

A little later, Joe and Jacob went out and Joe asked one of the men approaching the growing group of instrumentalists what was going on, and he said they had come to practice for Holy Week, the week before Easter, when processions follow statues of the Virgin and the crucified Jesus through the streets for hours, accompanied by brass bands playing music composed over the centuries just for these processions.

Finally, at about 8:30, the cacophony of now 100 different instruments warming up swelled into a beautiful chord, and then, following the martial beat of the drums, they began playing somber, stirring music and marching slowly up the side of the parking lot.  And back again.  And again.  And again.  Every few minutes, the crashing boom of the shipping containers seemed to join the band.  At 11pm, Joe went to bed as the musicians continued to play and march and play and march.  I ran out and recorded a couple minutes of it. You can hear a fragment here (maybe).

It is now 11:15, and they have just stopped the music and seem to be drifting to their cars to go home, still full of excited conversation.  I am ready to climb into the back of the van to try to sleep.  First I think I will try to find my earplugs; the shipyard crane operator doesn’t seem to realize that practice is over and is still playing his part, and probably will all night.  Still – what an amazing, serendipitous thing it was that we got this oh-so-very-Spanish bedtime entertainment.

We can sleep during siesta tomorrow.