This scene is somewhere beyond Ares with its medieval prison cell in front of the church, and before reaching the plateau on which the industrial Vilafranca sits. It struck me because it presides over the landscape, ancient, in a time warp, untouched, and yet if you look closely, you can see the modern world encroaching on it.
A collection of buildings that would have been typically added to piecemeal to accommodate various family members and their spouses, some with caved in roofs (perhaps these members went to the cities to find jobs?), others with “make do” roofs for the animals, and others clearly still inhabited.
In the fields to the left cows graze contentedly, black, mottled, white, a hardy collection of mixed breeds. The fields are still divided by dry stone walls, and the whole imparts bucolic charm. Yet if you look to the hill at the right you see the tops of wind farms rising over the brow. They look quite diminutive here, but as you travel on and round the corner they dominate the landscape, a long line of gigantic windmills twirling away in the never ending expanse.
Now, bring your eye closer in and you will notice the electricity poles at the edge of the homestead’s fields. SO they have juice you think? No, they don’t, the poles and lines carefully skirt outside the edges of the fields, probably so that the Spanish electricity company does not have to pay them rent.
At an average cost of 10,000 euros to connect to a nearby pylon, there would be no way this place could afford it. Note the lack of satelite dishes and antennae on the roofs. Note the aging pick-up truck. The world may be encroaching on it, but this place goes on just the same, in its own cocoon.