Portugal the remeder 6

6. Day 5: A time to remember.

The churros ended up as a mess of fried dough because of a pan that was too sticky. Choosing the right materials guarantees better results. Sometimes in life, we cut corners and seek alternatives and shortcuts that might seem original and even creative in some cases, but when it comes to making churros, it's best to use what you already know works. I don't know if I'm making myself clear…

The day has been one of rest, as the night hadn't provided me with a restorative sleep. I lay down on the bed, and soon a pleasant drowsiness overcame me, and I fell into the arms of Morpheus. How little has been written about such an important Greek deity. Restorative, invigorating, and through his mother Pasithea, she connects us with the gods in the form of messages. Many of us have awakened in the middle of the night upon receiving an idea, a melody, or witnessing a strange encounter with our ancestors, and even with those who, still alive, have been part of the story we live each day, of the path we walk each day.

Upon waking from such a wonderful state, and without any apparent stimulation, my brain said, “That woman, Rocío Jurado.” And so I went to my know-it-all friend and looked for that song from a live performance because I wanted to see her interpretation. No one would doubt the singer's powerful voice, but they would question her ability to convey something beyond those almost autobiographical lyrics. The woman from Chipiona passed away with dignity nearly twenty years after her death. In a final interview she gave to Jesús Quintero, I discovered a woman far more interesting than the image she projected. My brain started offering suggestions, and from Rocío I went to Eva Santamaría. It was a privilege to have shared the stage with such a great artist. I reminisced about those years when I met her, showcasing that typical Cadiz style of warmth and openness. I remember when she proposed her live performance at the El Puerto de Santa María fair to Enrique and me after her resounding Eurovision success. The band also included drummer Sergio and keyboardist José Chanivet, as well as two flamenco guitarists. I'll never forget the jealousy of one of them when he told me he could also play what I was playing. Eva had appointed me musical director.

We were all very young. Enrique and Sergio had different aspirations and tastes; for them, it was a way to earn some money. For José Chanivet, it was a pleasure, and for me, with a more open musical mind, it was an opportunity to explore other worlds alongside an artist who had reached the pinnacle of success.

I went to a recent interview and was deeply saddened to see that distorted image of Eva, both physically and emotionally. That lively, spontaneous girl who captivated you with her big eyes had given way to a woman who looked older than she was; her sparkle had faded, her smile had faded into the realm of better times, and I felt that something in her life wasn't right. Eva retired from music and dedicated herself to theater. That move never seemed right to me; I was born a musician, and I will die a musician, even if I explore or flirt with other art forms. I hope that, just as Luz Casal returned to her essence, Eva will do so someday too.

I spent the rest of that day watching videos of that love-hate relationship I have with the carnivals of Cadiz.

This stay in Izeda has given me back the peace I need, just with my solitude, as it has almost always been. It's a healing feeling I experience in Portugal, like someone going to a spa to cure their ailments. Thinking about going back terrifies me, quickens my heart rate, and fills me with sadness; that's why it's best not to get ahead of myself and to let go and enjoy the good things life is offering me right now.