Strolling through the endless rows of olive trees, you could be excused for failing to notice that there’s anything wrong. The air is cool, the sun high in the sky and the rolling hills are covered in all directions by an endless expanse of olive trees. The geometric rows even extend far up the sides of the mountains, which frame the scene. The trees appear green and lush with ripening olives, turning from green and creamy to an oily black. The ground has a strong tinge of red dirt, but that’s not uncommon – most farmers like to clear under the trees before harvest to make it easier to collect the fruit that falls to the earth. To the untrained eye, it’s a picturesque scene, and one that is attracting visitors after a taste of life in a land where the bittersweet aroma of olive oil flavours everything. But take a closer look and you’ll see why, for the locals, southern Spain is a region in crisis.
After a drought last year, a record-breaking freeze in winter, and then another drought this year, the livelihoods of ordinary Spaniards have been put at risk. The trees bear fruit but, while they can yield as much as 150kg of grapes in a good season, this year the olives are pea-sized and sparse. Estace Grande, a magnificent tree more than 600 years old near the town of Martos in south-west Jaén, has been known to generate up to 700kg of grapes, but is surrounded by dry and cracked earth and is almost bare. Irrigation is unknown in these parts, and autumn rain is crucial to the development of the olives which, when they get enough water, can swell up to the size of a small plum. There is still hope that late rains could aid a miraculous recovery, but current predictions estimate a massive 50% drop in oil output. This is already having a major impact on prices, as Spain is easily the world’s biggest producer of olive oil, even supplying much of the oil that is repackaged with Italian labels. But while lovers of quality food bemoan further rises in the cost of extra virgin and other olive oils, spare a thought for the ordinary people caught up in Spain’s worst agricultural disaster in 60 years.
It is estimated that 25% of the globe’s oil comes from the southern province of Jaén, a quiet inland region where almost everyone is tied to the oil. Olive trees have been growing on the Iberian peninsula for thousands of years, and over time the Andalusians have eschewed grain and other produce, putting all their efforts into the one crop, thanks to perfect growing conditions and oil’s ever-growing popularity. While the past few centuries have seen rural people head into cities around the globe, the people of Jaén have somehow managed to have the best of both worlds, living off the land in the small cities and large towns that nestle in the hilltops where ancient fortifications pose a reminder of the days when the Moors ruled the land. Thus, the decimation of the groves that have become the focal point of life is being felt right across the board. Now the drought has set in, nobody knows how long it will take for the groves to recover.
It may well be that those very ancient fortifications – the castles, towers and fortresses built along the Christian/Moor border around about the 14th century – offer some respite from the seasonal fluctuations. In recent years archaelogists have been carefully excavating medieval structures in Martos, Alcalá La Real, Alcaudete and in the province’s capital, Jaén, with exciting results. The protecting power of centuries of dirt, along with the Christians’ habit of building directly on top of the dwellings of their conquered foes, means that plenty of artefacts have been unearthed. Alcaudete, a town that has enjoyed had little tourism in the past, is preparing for a new phase as it uncovers and rebuilds the remains of the Moorish fortress and Christian castle which have overlooked the town since the 13th century. The tasteful reconstruction is carefully returning to glory a major stone structure that was capable of withstanding repeated Moorish attacks, with walkways around the walls offering views out across the countryside.
Tour around the almost-completed site and you can see where the original inhabitants ate, slept and prepared for battle. You can peer into the aljibe rooms where thousands of litres of water were once stored – vital for the survival of the townsfolk hiding behind the walls during a siege. As you stand behind the armaments, looking out over the beautiful countryside and mile after mile of olive groves, it’s easy to imagine those historical inhabitants and the water, as ever crucial to their survival.
