Photography by
Bjorn E Engstrom

In the Footsteps of Laurie Lee

“A howling dog, the gasping spasms of a donkey, the sharp cry of a cockerel”. These were the first simple sounds of dawn reaching the young English author, Laurie Lee, as he contemplated his first steps on Spanish soil from the safety of an old steamer in the port of Vigo in July 1935. With only a fiddle and a burning quest for adventure his dream was to walk through the Iberian peninsula to discover the mystique of its land and people. The subtle beauty of the varied landscape together with the reserved warmth of men and women, living in hovels of dust and hunger, gripped him in a mesmeric manner to create a lifelong, unfaded love for Spain, later vividly immortalised in the novel “As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning”. Forty years on Spain has changed materially beyond recognition into a democracy with the usual trimmings of a welfare state but what is left of the country Laurie Lee so strikingly presented to his readers? “As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning” with its image of an open road and tender narrative of life has always inspired me as a traveller, therefore, on my way to live in Southern Spain, I took the opportunity to retrace parts of his journey to discover for myself some of the magic behind the book. In stark contrast to Laurie Lee, who covered the distance mostly on foot over many months, I relied on the excellent Spanish network of coaches making my journey in just three weeks. A display of fields coloured by a mixture of deep red poppies and white daisies, giving the vivid impression of a painter´s palette, followed my journey to Zamora where I caught up with the famous author. Zamora is a small provincial town along the River Duero situated within an impressive fortress, whose austere walls once protected the town during many belligerent sieges. On arrival one warm Saturday evening an exhausted Laurie Lee relaxed under the ghostly looking plane trees in one of the squares. From here he heard the sound of music with “the syrupy beer-hall strains of Vienna Woods”. An amicable encounter with a group of German street-musicians led to a dance hall in a derelict area sloping down to the river bank. Searching the steep lanes for any Laurie Lee connections I stumbled across a roofless ramshackle building cemented together by disintegrating bricks, resting peacefully in a row of tidy, whitewashed terrace houses. Was this “the broken down warehouse”, where he danced “helpless, half-crippled, half-anaesthetized by the scent from a local girl” – I pondered! The rusty red, steep cliffs of Toro came as a shock to Laurie Lee after a monotonous walk along the golden wheat fields from Zamora. He described it as “An ancient, eroded, red-walled town spread along the top of a huge flat boulder”. In the history of Spain, Toro is best known for a battle in 1476 when the Portuguese were defeated by the Spanish army. Through this, Queen Isabella and her husband, Fernando, established the cornerstone for the unification of Spain. Toro has since then been forgotten by history and is now a tranquil provincial town which has probably, except for some restorations, changed little since the days of Laurie Lee´s visit. The squares, streets and houses all portray the sedate atmosphere of a “time gone by” – emphasised by the aged men in their caps and ragged suits dreaming life away in the parks or playing bowls by the castle. This is in plain contrast to the lively fiesta with a parade and display of extravaganza which met Laurie Lee – “Each strolling young man was a pocket dandy…each girl a crisp, freshly laundered doll”. His next stop was Valladolid. The Spanish midday sun on the mesita is unforgiving to the person who challenges its might. This Laurie Lee found out the hard way as he was taken by car to Valladolid by helping hands after suffering sunstroke. He regarded the name Valladolid hard and dark, reflecting the City´s many grey buildings and narrow lanes. Looking at the Cavalry Academy, situated along Paseo de Zorilla, I share his sentiments but moving on to the nearby Plaza Mayor, the picture changes. Here, in the soft light of the afternoon, sipping a glass of purple red “Ribera de Duero” I watch the open square with its bustling cafes, colourful banners, joyful school children and restless tourists as in a piece of theatre, suddenly – after a few “copas” I am approached by a tanned, blonde young man dressed in torn clothes playing the sad tunes of Schubert on his violin. As I am about to hand him a “euro” he vanishes like a shadow among the pillars of the plaza. My wife tells me it is time to go back to the hotel! After Valladolid, Spain was an open map to Laurie Lee and to use his words – “I felt so fat with time so free of the need to be moving or doing”. As it happened, he continued his walk south through the green pinewoods towards Segovia. There he enjoyed a short stay among the City´s narrow steep lanes, crumbling sandstone buildings and airy parks with storks nestling in the trees. However, it was all made insignificant by the City´s main feature the Roman aqueduct – “It strode across the valley with massive grace, a hundred vistas framed by its soaring arches”. From a bar near the aqueduct, I watched the locals and Madrid weekenders enjoying the hustle and bustle of the annual fete whilst my mind went back to an open-air cinema performance with audience participation which Laurie Lee attended. A different time but the same place and pleasure. My journey now continued through the luscious green woods of the Sierra Guadarrama and, like Laurie Lee, I made a brief stop at the royal gardens of La Granja. Here the author resented the elaborate fountains and statues, resembling fantasy figures in a fairy tale, seen in contrast against the harsh climate of poverty he was encountering on his way. I envisage his feelings but in today´s world of showy theme parks and leisure centres these mythological ornaments with their weird and sometimes vulgar postures only portray an era lost in eternity. Entering Castilla-La Mancha on his way to Madrid, the great author felt he turned a new page of his journey and life. A strong involvement in Spain was now firmly anchored in his mind. Entering Madrid he felt as being in the jaws of a lion. This is a plausible comparison for anyone who has experienced an evening at Puerta del Sol with its vibrant atmosphere of a thousand noises, smells and feelings. The lion is these days rather restless and roams all day and night, even during the sacred siesta in the afternoon. To then find a peaceful bar or café in the centre one has to wander the seedy obscure lanes to Plaza Mayor, where one can relax under a parasol whilst watching the world go round. South of Madrid the vast plain of Castilla-La Mancha rolls out into the distance of an endless horizon. A sparsely populated but fertile area made up of endless vine groves, wheat fields in saturated colours and now and then the occasional village or town with its bleached houses to break up the monotony of the landscape. It was in August 1935 that Laurie Lee came to Valdepenas, the centre for producing some of the best wines in Spain. The town was a pleasant surprise: “An air of privileged well-being, like an oil-well in a desert of hardship; the old men and children had extra flesh on their bones, even the dogs seemed to shine with fat” He played the violin to a generous audience in Plaza de Espana, which still asserts a special sentiment of well-being with its blue and white houses and bars with stained wine barrels for tables. The people are spontaneous and in spite of being an obvious stranger I was often approached by the locals saying; “Have you visited ‘Molino de Viento’”, “The bodega at ’Calle de la Torrecilla’ displays old stools for wine making”, “’El Tabaco’ shop was robbed last night”…. Passing over the Sierra Morena, one enters the region of Andalusia. Here Laurie Lee met the Southern people “men in tall Cordobese hats, blue shirts, scarlet waistbands and girls with smouldering Arab faces”. He followed a westward route along the River Guadalquivir encompassing the cities of Sevilla, Cadiz, and Malaga where a deeper insight in the contemporary life of the region was presented to him. In Sevilla he was dazzled by “a creamy crustation of flower-banked houses fanning out from each bank of the river”. He lived in the Triana Quarter which at that time was a place of great deprivation and poverty. Triana has up to current time maintained a sentiment of its own but is nowadays a neat and tidy district with geraniums in all the hues of red and pink hanging from the balconies and railings. Yes, the young girls´ dark eyes are still burning under curls of jet black hair or the latest tint of cosmetic hair dye. In the autumn of 1935 he reached the coastal town of Almuñecar. In Almuñecar he was no longer a passive traveller through Spain but becoming deeply involved in what was to be an extremely turbulent period for this little community. The black clouds of the Civil War were rising in the background over the purple coloured mountains of Sierra del Chaparral. The “tumbling little village” Laurie Lee saw has lately turned into a sprawling town with hotels and apartments along the grey stony beach. It was on this beach that he watched in dismay the poor fishermen trying to make a living out of a few sardines. One morning, being curious, I went to see what has happened to the next generation of fishermen! A few young men were trying to sell their meagre catch but the atmosphere was relaxed and without any social grievance evident. Almuñecar was my final destination and also my present home. I am sitting on a bench close to the beach contemplating the final outcome of my journey. The magic of the book is forever in my heart. I found the many landmarks intact and the people open to giving help and advice to a stranger exploring their country. The modern welfare state has not impacted on the rich culture and traditions which flower as strongly as ever. The place where I am sitting has a strong Laurie Lee connection, being the location of Hotel Mediterraneo until some 40 years ago. He lived in a room on the roof top for most of his time in Almuñecar. In his honour the town erected a small monument, in 1988, with a placard which reads: “This is raised in acknowledgement of the great writer Laurie Lee who lived in our town during the years 1935-36, 1951-52 and immortalised it behind the synonym Castillo in his works “As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning” and “ A Rose for Winter”. Due to the outbreak of the Civil War, Laurie Lee returned to England in the summer of 1936 thus ending his first encounter with Spain. In December 1937 he joined the International Brigade to participate in the Civil War on the side of the Republicans, a period covered by his autobiography “A Moment of War”. Laurie Lee´s love for Spain never faded which is reflected through his works and many return visits to the country. On his death in May 1997, the Guardian wrote “He had a nightingale inside him, a capacity for sensuous, lyrical precision”.   (A) Initially for political reasons, the name Almuñecar was concealed and referred to as “Castillo”. Copyright - Bjorn Engstrom 2005