Trasnochar

We had been thinking of going to León to see the processions for Easter, but lethargy and basic lack of will meant that when we looked at the buses and trains, they were all full for the days we wanted to travel. “No problem,” said one of Liz’s students, “We’re off to León, we’ll give you a lift.” That left one little problem.

No hotel, and a lift there on Thursday, back on Friday.

The processions at Easter are a really big deal, more in the South than the North, but the processions in León are classed as ‘of international touristic importance’ or some such. The ones in Oviedo are rather smaller (Asturias is a bit less religious than Castilla y León).

Never mind, we thought, we’ll just stay in bars, the last procession starts at midnight so that’ll be no problem (the verb for that in Spanish is the title of this post).

So that’s what we did. León is a lovely little city, lots of bars and restaurants, and we spent a day wandering and having the odd corto (a very small beer, between 15cl and 20cl) with which they always give you a tapa (according to one friend, people never eat at home in León).

We saw the processions. There are dozens over the Easter week, different brotherhoods of penitents, each dressed in different robes carry big tableaux (up to 70 people carrying the bigger ones, called pasos, which show scenes from the passion). The hoods originated in the middle ages, when people needed to do penance but didn’t want to be recognised (oooh look, there’s that Juan Fernando Ramirez Rodriguez again, what’s he done this time).

By 6am we were reduced to waiting for the chocolate shop to open so we could get warm, with chocolate and churros for brekkie, then off to find a good spot to watch the early morning Good Friday procession. We overheard one lady saying that she had been at the corner we eventually parked ourselves at for fifty years running. It was a good spot, facing a narrow street that the pasos only just fitted in. The procession went past us for almost two hours (thanks to my catholic upbringing, and the stations of the cross as an altar boy (monaguillo in Spanish) I could identify all of the scenes. The pasos are huge, incredibly ornate and gothically concerned with protraying anguish and suffering. I’ll be posting a few images on flickr over the next few days.

The robes do, however, put me in mind of various things ranging from Fremen (see the original covers of Dune), Ming’s troops in Flash Gordon, the klan (who stole the designs from Spain) and wizards. And makes me wonder, how come Ireland, which was pretty darn catholic, doesn’t have this sort of thing?