Retomo las historias de mis tios. Dejamos el último capítulo con las dificultades de la locomoción, ahora sigo con este capítulo:------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm continuing with my aunt and uncle's stories. The last chapter had to do with the difficulties in transportation, now I continue with the following:
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"Miguel mantenía frecuente contacto con la gente del pueblo. Acostumbraba a ir al bar de "Perdigón" a charlar con el facultativo de minas, con Mateo, con el maestro de escuela, con algunos mineros y cortijeros, y hasta con el cura.
De vez en cuando, se incorporaba a la tertulia algún guardia civil. Allá se hablaba de todo y se bromeaba, mientras se tomaban tapas y banderillas de conejo, morcilla, higadillos, piel de cerdo, setas de saúco y hasta de lagarto, acompañadas de vino manchego. La taberna de "Perdigón" era el tamiz por donde pasaban todas las noticias de Candera y sus alrededores.
Por su aire aristocrático, el tabernero destacaba desconcertantemente entre toda aquella gente. Se antojaba absurda la presencia de un hombre tan distinguido en aquel ambiente. "Perdigón" era alto, rubio, delgadísimo, con manos de pianista y modales de cortesano del Renacimiento. Servía un vaso de vino como quien ofrece una flor.
Habría que buscar tal vez el orígen de esta distinción en las cacerías de venados y jabalíes, que los duques y marqueses de Madrid, Toledo y Córdoba organizaban por aquella parte de Sierra Morena.
En honor a la verdad, diremos que, a pesar de tanta elegancia y delicadeza, la eficacia de los servicios de "Perdigón" era dudosa. Pero allí estaba para suplir sus deficiencias "Peporra", su mujer. "Peporra" era alta, fuerte, de pelo rojizo y cara blanca, con muchas pecas. A través de su blusa, transparente y muy ceñida, se marcaban sus músculos de boxeador. Trabajaba sin parar y sin cansarse. Cuando alzaba los brazos para coger en una estantería una caja de botellas o se subía en un banquillo para descolgar un jamón, la clientela contemplaba admirada su grupa de caballo percherón." (Continuará)
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Miguel had frequent contacts with the village people. He used to go to "Perdigon's" bar to talk to the mine's foreman, to Mateo, to the school teacher, to some miners and farm owners, and even to the priest!
From time to time, a Civil Guard, joined the conversation. They talked about everything and joked while eating rabbit, bloodpudding, liver, pigskin, mushroom and even lizard "tapas" accompanied by red wine from La Mancha. "Perdigon's" tavern was the sieve where all the news of Candera and its surroundings, filtered.
Due to his aristocratic look, the barman, bewilderingly, stood out among all the rest. His very distinguished demeanour felt somehow absurd in that ambience. "Perdigón" was tall, blond, very thin with beautiful hands and his manners were that of a courtly Renaissance man. He served a glass of wine as if he was handing you a flower.
Perhaps the origin of this distinction had to do with the hunting sprees of venison and wild boar, dukes and marquesses from Madrid, Toledo and Cordoba used to organize in that part of the "Morena" mountain range.
However, in truth, we must admit that despite all his elegance and refinement, "Perdigon's" efficiency was quite lacking. But there was his wife "Peporra" to make up for his deficiencies. "Peporra" was tall, strong, red-haired, with a very white face full of freckles. Through her transparent, very tight blouse, one could see her muscular, boxer-like arms. She worked constantly without ever getting tired. When she lifted her arms to grab a case of wine or she stood up on a stool to lower a leg of ham from the ceiling, the clientele admiringly looked at her horse-like rump. (It will continue)
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