The end of the summer in my town means one thing: the mass exodus of tourists, jobs, crowds and heat. But before that can happen, Los Caños de Meca hosts its final hurrah for summer and sends our friend verano out the door with a bang; literally. It’s the annual Fiesta de los timbales (Party of the drums) called El Noche por la Paz - The Night for Peace (Don't click that if you can't read Spanish). That is when 40,000 people descend on our tiny hippie beach town and congregate in masses on the sand to listen to a hoard of other random hippies beat on drums.
by Brian AuerIf you’ve ever been to the Venice beach Sunday drum circle, than there’s really no need to go to this. It’s basically the same, except add a bunch of live music acts, some fire dancers and about 1000 drums. I know I just made it seem like it’s a lot better than the Venice drum circle, but it’s really not. It’s basically exactly the same. Only it lasts for like 14 hours more, as this festival starts at about 11 AM and goes until the sun comes up the following day.
But, all the same, and in the spirit of not comparing one place to another, I head down to the drum festival with Jack, Clair and our other friend Adrian. We take a cab because we know it’s going to be a crazy night and also because between the four of us, we can’t come up with a viable means of transportation. Adrian rides a dirt bike, which he is afraid might get stolen because (apparently) it’s nice. Jack forgot to fill his bike up with gas before the gas station closed and Clair broke her arm and can’t ride her moped anymore. So that leaves me with the big red van, which dad rightly told me I was not allowed to drive down and leave while I got plastered.
So we spent an hour or so on the beach, watching the drums and the firedancers do their dancing and drumming, while we sipped on our litronas and munched on a bag of ham flavored Ruffles – which in my opinion are just as disgusting as they sound, but with jamón being the national flavor of Spain, I’ve had to get used to.
by Brian AuerOne thing that’s really nice about running a tourist based holiday is that I’ve gotten close to many of the bartenders in the area. Most of them know me by name and recognize me even in the masses of people that trek around in the summer. Most know me as the stupid American who doesn’t speak good Spanish, but I’ve been called worse things, and as long as it gets me recognized, that’s good enough for me.
Especially tonight, as every bar we passed, we stopped, and every bartender I knew, gave me a free drink. Cha-ching! I knew the benefits would come in sooner or later. By the time we got to the end of the street by the lighthouse Faro de Trafalgar I was pleasantly toasted and it was nearly 4 AM. We had also acquired friends at this point who decided that it was a good place to sit down and roll a couple joints. The rest of us non-smokers continued to sip on one of the now 4 or 5 drinks we were carrying (it takes two hands to roll a joint – a super bonus of not being a pothead – cupholder) and enjoyed the incredibly chilled out environment.
But that wasn’t all, after we finished up our beach bar crawl, we headed back into Los Caños to our popular watering hole Ketama where we proceeded to shut the place down – mind you, it didn’t happen until almost 6 AM. As I looked at my watch at 6 and realized that I had to be at work in an hour and a half, I came to grips with the fact that I was not likely to be getting any sleep. It was even more apparent when we were still waiting for a cab a half hour later. When I rolled into my apartment at 7:15 I had just enough time to change clothes, stuff a couple of slices of toast and a cup of coffee down and meet Rachel outside to go tack up horses.
But that’s ok. I have the rest of my life to sleep right?
Friday, November 12, 2010 at 9:26AM | 
It’s beach day #2 and an incredibly busy day. I ride Polly today, our big pregnant Welsh Cob who doesn’t work much, but who has to get out at least once a week. Jose calls her Elefante (I don’t think I need to translate that) but I love riding her. Riding her for a day on the beach is like sitting in a La-Z-Boy all day watching National Geographic. Jose and I are on our own today and it looks...