Paseo Ingeniero Mira: panel 3

Continuing our walk down the Paseo Ingeniero Mira, we come to the third large panel of tiles. (Unfortunately, the panels are often accompanied by a wastepaper basket, which is fine if people make use of it, but is not conducive to a pleasing photograph.)

(Caption to drawing) Brigada de obreros plantando lineas de barrón a vida, para impedir el movimiento de las arena por el vento.

(Main text) Para defender la superficie contra la acción de los vientos se han empleados distintas sistemas de protección, consistentes en el empleo de ramaje tendido, ramaje hincado, matas de barón junco y brozas, esparcidas en la superficie; plantaciones de barón a tresbolillo, en lineas paralelas o en lineas cruzadas; con vallas de cañizos, y también con ramaje formando cuadros, esparciendo en ellos hojas secas.

Translation:

(Caption to drawing) Team of workers planting lines of living marram grass, in order to prevent the wind from blowing the sand.

(Main text) Various means of protection were used to defend the land against the action of the wind. These consisted of fences made of branches, branches driven into the ground, clumps of marram grass, reeds, and dried vegetation spread over the surface; areas of marram grass, planted in triangles, in parallel lines and in rectangles; with fences of reed matting and also of branches, forming squares, with dried leaves spread between them.

Although taken quite early in the morning (very early by my standards…), shadows can be clearly seen on this and other photos in the series. The Paseo is lined with numerous large Eucalyptus trees as well as smaller palms, Mediterranean pines and other plants, offering a very pleasant, shaded walkway.

The original photograph by Engineer Mira y Botella, on which this tableau is based,shows a much larger group of workers.

Paseo Ingeniero Mira: panel 2

The second panel shows the erection of one of the barriers that Botella designed to prevent the sand from creeping any further. As we shall see later, this was just one aspect of Botella's cunning plan.

(Caption to drawing) Elevación del tablestacado para la formación de la duna litoral, después de enterrarse por las arenas que arroja el mar en la playa.

(Main text) Dos son los objetivos perseguidos con estos trabajos primero, detener en la playa toda la arena que arroja el mar; segundo, fijar toda la extensión cubierta de arenas para evitar que sigan invadiendo el pueblo y los cultivos agrícolas, y convertir, al propio tiempo, en productiva la estéril zona de arenales.

Translation:

(Caption to drawing) Positioning the wooden picket to form the coastal dunes, after having been buried by the sand brought from the sea to the beach.

(Main text) These works have two main aims: first, to keep the sand that is brought in by the sea on the beach; second, to maintain in place the parts already covered by sand, so as to prevent further invasion of the village and the agricultural areas and, given time, to convert the sterile sandy zones to productive regions.

That many of the panels are based on photos taken by Engineer Mira y Botella himself is evident when one views this photograph, which Botella took soon after the start of the undertaking, probably in 1902.

Paseo Ingeniero Mira: panel 1

This is the first main panel encountered as one walks down the Paseo. Each of these large panels consists of more than 200 tiles and all panels are signed "Lario" together with a monogram, apparently made up of an L and an R, and the number 1.600.

(Caption to drawing) Parte Norte del pueblo antes de la repoblación, con las arenas que tienen invadida una calle.

(Main text) Se hallan estas arenas voladoras en la desenbocadura [SIC] del río Segura, en la provincia de Alicante, ocupando a lo largo de la costa del Mediterráneo de norte a sur, una faja de 1500 m. de longitud, con anchos que varían, según los sitios, desde 200 a 1300 metros.

Translation:

(Caption to drawing) Northern part of the village, before the replanting, showing the sand that has invaded a street.

(Main text) These wind-blown sands are found in the mouth of the river Segura, in the province of Alicante, forming a 1500 metres long fringe that occupies the the coast from north to south, with widths ranging from 200 to 1300 metres.

By 1896, as the panel shows, sand dunes were approaching dangerously close to Guardamar, even taking over some streets. Four years later, on 12 July, 1900, the plan to fight the approaching sand, developed by Engineer Don Francisco Mira i Botella was initiated, with what would turn out to be amazing success, from both a humanitarian and an ecological point of view.

Many of the panels relate directly to the work of Mira i Botella and their pictorial representations are based on his own photographs. For more of the fascinating and evocative photos of Mira i Botella, see the book, Repoblación de las Dunas de Guardamar del Segura: Memoria y Fotografías, available from the tourist office on the main square of Guardamar.

Paseo Ingeniero Mira

The Paseo Ingeniero Mira (Engineer Mira Avenue) is a pleasant avenue stretching from close to the main town square of Guardamar down to the beach, passing between two parks: the formal Parque Reina Sofia and the informal and much larger Parque Alfonso XIII.

The Paseo is named after the engineer who was responsible for developing and implementing the idea of using vegetation as a way to hold back the advancing sands, which were threatening to inundate Guardamar at the end of the 19th and start of the 20th centuries.

Apart from offering a shady walk, access to two parks and a direct link between the centre of the town and the beach, the Paseo also provides the visitor with a series of beautifully tiled panels. I suspect that most of the plebs who wander by are too dim to take any notice of these panels, but for those of you interested in rather more than sand and beer, I thought it might be a good idea to offer a photo and a translation of each panel. Hopefully, your visit to Guardamar will be richer for this and perhaps it will also help you better understand some of the culture history of the town.

The photo above is looking down the Paseo, from very close to the beginning (a kiosk prevents a decent photo from being taken at the very beginning, I'm sorry to say). The main elements of the Paseo can be identified: on each side is a green area, with the Parque Reina Sofia to the right and the Parque Alfonso XIII to the left; a parking area and the road is also to the right; in the centre of the image, the broad walkway, the actual Paseo, can be seen with, on its left side the mosaic benches and the panels about which we will soon learn more. Only four of the panels are visible in the photo (if you look hard enough), but there are ten in all, plus one smaller introductory panel, shown here.

This introductory panel consists of 70 tiles and reads,

Este pueblo viene luchando por su existencia desde su fundación; En un principio contra los ataques de los conquistadores; Más tarde contra los terremotos (Gran seísmo de día 21 de Marzo de 1829 a las 6 de la tarde), Y, actualmente contra la invasión de las arenas.

D. Francisco Mira y Botella. Ingeniero de Montes. 1906..

which I translate as

The people of this town have fought for its existence ever since its foundation, first against invading conquerors, later against earthquakes (the great quake of 21 March, 1829, at six o'clock in the afternoon), and now against the invasion of sand.

D. Francisco Mira y Botella. Forestry Engineer. 1906.

In coming entries, I shall look at each of the ten large panels in turn, as they are encountered walking down the Paseo towards the beach.

(Note that Google Maps does not indicate the Paseo itself, but marks the parallel road with two names (one in Castellano, the other Valenciano): Calle del Ingeniero Mira and Carrer del Enginyer Mira. Take your pick.)

Christmas is coming…

We went out to do some Christmas shopping yesterday. That wasn't the reason we went out, but that's how things turned out. Mind you, we did some ordinary shopping, too. You know the sort of things, meat, vegetables, fruit, dairy products, and so on. Everything that's needed for a healthy diet in the eyes of She Who Must Be Obeyed: not a piece of chocolate to be seen, not a caramel, or a cream tart, although I did manage to sneak in a slab of turrón de Alicante (a sort of block of nougat), so life won't be all gloom and doom.

Anyway, we made a great effort to support the local economy, too, given that it's Christmas. Elise bought a nice watch and I am now the proud owner of a new digital camera.

I have used Olympus cameras since about 1974, when I bought my first Olympus Pen. It was the Pen FT model, a second-hand one, which I bought it in a small camera shop in Oudenaarde. The Pen was a beautifully designed halfkleinbeeld (half frame?) SLR camera, but unlike other SLRs of the time, it was not bulky or heavy, it was simply beautiful; Marilyn would have called it Elegant.). It also had the advantage of taking twice as many photos on a given roll of film. Sadly, my beloved Pen was stolen when we were on holiday in the south of France. I hope that the person who stole it realised what they had and took great care of it, or at least sold it on to someone else who did so.

Anyway, I stayed with Olympus, then buying an OM1 SLR camera, which became the basis of an ever-growing collection of lenses and other attributes. Eventually, I needed a large aluminium case in which to carry everything and it finally all became too heavy for me. I sold everything some ten years ago, after first having bought an early Olympus digital camera. After a few years, I wanted rather more than that relatively simple camera could offer, so I found an Olympus Camedia C-750 Ultra Zoom, which has served me well for the past 6 years.

A couple of years ago, however, Olympus announced a digital version of the Pen design and things started itching. "Shall I or shan't I?" has been a question often pondered over: the first Pen EP1 had its teething troubles, the EP2 is considerably better, but out of my price range, but now the lower cost EPL1 answers my requirements and offers the advantages of the Pen system.

The circle has closed: I started with a Pen and now I have ended up with a Pen once more.

I hope it lives up to its predecessor.

Half a Century

It's that time of the year again and already the Christmas cards have started to arrive. Surely it was Easter only last week?

Anyway, one of the very first cards received this year was from one Dennis Lingard, a fellow I've not seen for over forty years. He was still living in Blackheath at the time and had a decent collection of Monkeys records.

Dennis's card included a letter, in which he reminded me that it was fifty years ago this year in September that we started our time together at Woolverstone Hall. Dennis and I were in the same year and class and both spent seven years at the school, from 1960 until 1967, when we left to make our separate ways in the world. If I recall correctly, Dennis became head boy of Hanson's House, while I was head boy of Corner's. Exactly what happened to Dennis after leaving Woolverstone, I do not know, but from the few contacts we have had, and these have only been in the past few years, mostly brief exchanges at Christmastime, he works in the same branch as I was involved in, software development.

It had completely passed my notice that we started at Woolverstone fifty years ago—that's half a century, in other words, and that seems like an awfully long time. Einstein had it right, didn't he? Time really is relative. When I was small, there were at least five years, perhaps more, between each Christmas and the same was true for birthdays. Now there's merely a few months and if it goes on like that, I'll soon be celebrating next Christmas before this one.

To get back to Dennis and his letter, it's amazing that so many of us Woolverstonians still think so much about the place. It must have had a significant influence on us, more so than a "normal" school has on an "ordinary" pupil, I feel. Woolverstone was a magnificently successful experiment in Socialist-driven education, scuppered by the greed of Conservative horse-blinkered politicians, who couldn't see the benefit of subsidizing the education of some relatively gifted pupils as an investment for the future. (That sort of thinking sounds conspicuously like the Conservative's attitude to University subsidies nowadays and if I were a student, I'd be out on the streets protesting, too, and I'd burn my Liberal party membership card, if I still had one).

See that, off course again, so back to Dennis. He wrote that a number of Old Boys from the 1960 intake paid a visit to the school in October and enjoyed a pleasant reunion. I bet they didn't run a cross-country as part of the celebrations!

Another Woolverstone reunion, on a much smaller, but more poignant scale, will take place in Australia in January—see my previous post.

Three Boys

The photo must have been taken in 1962. The boys are wearing shorts and the first- and second-form tie design is clearly visible; the location is the back garden at Corner's House, where the three boys boarded during most of their years at Woolverstone Hall. (Corner's was named after its first housemaster; it was designed in 1901 by Sir Edwin Lutyens and is now better known by its former name, Woolverstone House.) The year before, we were all in Orwell House and the year after we had graduated to long trousers and diagonal stripes on the ties.

The boys were in the same year as myself; we shared the same dormitory, played rugby together, listened to the same music, were in the same class. The photo was taken by another friend, also a boarder in Corner's and also in the same year.

Looking from top to bottom, we see Colin, Pip and Clevs.

Pip (Philip) died just a couple years after we left school in 1967. I did not know this until just a few years ago and it came as a terrible shock. He was a fine boy, friendly, well-mannered, clean. He died of leukemia. Far too young. Quite unfair that such a person should have no chance at life.

Clevs was my best friend. Terry. His grandmother lived close to where I lived in Charlton. One day I was in the kitchen of the corner house in which I lived and I saw her through the window, walking past the side of of the house. I knew exactly what she was coming to tell me: Terry was no more. He had been killed in a traffic accident in Spain. This was about mid-1969, as far as I can recall, no more than some eighteen months after we had left school for the final time. Terry fancied being an oceanographer. He never had a chance.

Colin is still alive, thank goodness. The boy who took the photo left school early, as his parents had decided to settle in the antipodes. Soon, more than 48 years after the photo was taken and some 45 years after they last saw each other, Colin and the early leaver, Australian author Alan Gould, will meet again on a beach in Australia.

Pip and Clevs will be there in some way, too.

The date given by ExWoolverstonianToo (see Comments) for Terry's death is incorrect. For more information, see Closing the circle.