If you want to find the beating heart of Andalucía – head for El Rocio.
Located on the borders of the Coto Doñana National Park, it is a dusty square around an unassuming church housing the Virgen del Rocio – who is revered by Andalusians with a fervour rarely experienced.
Once a year the day of the Virgin which falls at the end of Pentecost – somewhere between the 19th and the 26th May – over a million people will descend upon this tiny enclave.
Many will arrive on horseback, or in horsedrawn carts. Many more on foot. and they will arrive from all parts of Andalusia and beyond. Some will walk for 10 days or more as display of their devotion.
This particular weekend the entire village is overwhelmed. Neighbouring villages are overwhelmed.
There is simply no room at the inn for another soul, anywhere.
And yet, year after year, the crowds of devotees swells and El Rocio is an annual event that many simply refuse the miss.
Nothing will stop them being there. Nothing will dampen their “alegría”.
The devotees are generally members of brotherhoods – Hermandades – membership of which is often fiercely guarded through generations.
And many of the larger hermandades own their own property in El Rocio where their members will stay during the weekend.
During the rest of the year the tiny village goes back to sleep – enjoying a quiet existence in a beautiful part of the world in Huelva, visited by the odd off season tourist, flocks of migrating flamingoes and herds of wild horses.
I have visited a few times. My wife enjoys a spiritual connection with the place, and whenever we pass, we make a short stop to give thanks to the Virgen and to ask for her protection for the future.
My wife is also part of a prayer group, and some years ago they arranged the short pilgrimage to El Rocio. It was three or four days, culminating in the visit to the Virgin for a Sunday morning mass.
When I say a prayer group, this may give a slightly distorted impression of a few people gathering on one of their living rooms – it’s a little bigger than that – and international. There were 300 of them.
And on the Sunday there were 3 more as I drove over to join them for the day with our (at that time) two children.
So allow me to set the scene.
There are about 6 coaches and my car all arriving in El Rocio ahead of the Sunday mass.
Now, here’s the important part….. what we didn’t know is that apart from the annual El Rocio event, every Sunday, one of the Hermandades celebrate their own mass.
And the weekend we were there coincided with the annual mass of the Hermandad de Triana in Seville.
This, I discover later, is one of the more prominent hermandades of El Rocio, and they own one of the larger properties ion the village.
So the church was quite full when we added 300 or so new souls to the congregation.
The mass is serious affair, as you would imagine, and our group did not want to either interrupt or interfere with the solemn occasion, so we were gathered around the entire rear of the church.
However, our group wanted to sing a hymn – a hallelujah – so a representative went in search of the “Older Brother” or Hermano Mayor – the leader of the Hermandad to ask permissoin.
Permission kindly granted the 300 strong group sang their hallelujah within this beautiful church…. needless to say it was a moving moment, even for one not given to spiritual intervention.
As this finished and we prepared to file out of the church in silence, the Hermano Mayor approached our group and invited us for lunch.
300 of us.
We explained that, since it was an arranged excursion, we all had packed lunches from the hotel, but he insisted.
We were escorted to the Casa de la Hermandad de Triana where they opened up their bodega (this is a kind of cross between wine cellar, pantry and Aladdin’s cave of treasure) and brought out more wine, jamón, cheese, chorizo and all manner of delights and insisted on us joining in the celebratory wining, dining and dancing.
There was no pretence to this.
There was no ulterior motive.
It was simply that we had, through total innocence, become their guests for the day and they were intent on expressing their hospitality.
It was a magical moment in part because of the complete impracticality of inviting 300 people to your house for lunch. But once the decision had been made to do so by the Hermano Mayor, there was not a single flicker of disagreement. No sideways glances. No mumblings. Everyone simply dealt with the “intrusion” as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Never have I felt more welcome. In that moment we were completely accepted as part of the Hermandad de Triana.
And that is a feeling I remember as if it was yesterday.
Viva la Virgen del Rocio – Viva la Hermandad de Triana!
