by Norr, Spain. No.18 Winter 2021
Whilst waiting for the Covid 19 ‘vaccine sting’ I decided to explore the mountainous region of Castilla-Leon, its east-south slopes varying from 1200 to 1500 meters above sea level, covered with dense undergrowth, shrubs and trees, and long-abandoned villages. Times were tough for the villagers a century ago. The soil was too rocky with the soil too shallow to grow many vegetables – and ripening of tomatoes would hardly occur before October. Too cold by far for important crops like wheat and barley, the only cereal which would grow successfully was rye. Whilst livestock were of immense importance to the families, herds of goats and flocks of sheep always faced predation by the many wolves and bears which frequented the region. However, one commodity which they could expect to harvest was honey, and apparently many apiaries surrounded the old villages.
With lockdown and isolation restricting many aspects of human activity, I used the one option open to me, taking exercise, to explore this interesting region that had been virtually re-taken by nature. With a feeling of great freedom, I followed the trails of wild boars in the mountains and the valleys, tracking wolves and bears, eating wild fruits such as blackberries and blueberries, and rejoicing in the nature that surrounded me.
During my scouting around from one place to another, Ι found some old, dilapidated apiaries, usually just one or two close to each other, usually revealing the remains of some log hives and cork hives. But, on one momentous day, making my way through the undergrowth I discovered one of the old abandoned villages, and exploring around it, the remains of sixteen old apiaries, all close to each other. The apiaries were surrounded by collapsed walls, within which were huge bushes with old hives hidden under the shrubbery.
Whilst Ι learned that this honey place belonged to a village which was abandoned at the end of the nineteen sixties, the village itself had a history covering eight centuries. By contacting a few natives who had moved away from the village all that time ago, Ι was told that the apiaries belonged to their ancestors – so the actual age of the apiaries and hives is difficult to determine.
Still shocked by my discovery, Ι started to unfasten what was left of the doors in the walls and then clear the paths between them (always filming the action) as well as the overgrown trees and shrubs. Once done it was obvious that most of the apiaries were of the same pattern. The entrance into the apiary was made with a stout wooden door which was almost always in the west wall, near the lower corner, and inside, between that corner and the entrance, a kind of hovel was built with just a roof to cover tools, broken hives and other necessary items. Unfortunately Ι didn’t find one hovel that was in good condition; all of them were in various stages of collapse.
At the upper end of the slopes, the apiary walls consist of arch-shaped lobes, small arches rather than large, which are able to stand more pressure from the weight of the stones. On the top of the walls, heavy flatish stones, protruding on the outside, are there to keep out bears. In those times, bears were much more common in the area than they are now. Near to the apiaries are the remains of quarries from where the rocks for the walls were taken and, surprisingly, many walls are in rather a good state despite being built without the aid of cement or mud.
The sites for the apiaries were carefully chosen. They are in the lower part of the former village, on a slope facing east to south, a warm place sheltered from the cold north winds.
Many of the hives still have large heavy stone slabs covering them like an umbrella – put in place to protect them from the rain, snow, harsh summer sun, strong winds and from animals knocking them over.
Whilst carrying out this work of releasing the apiaries from their overgrown state, I had no company but that of a few robins. With my heavy axe I cut away the bushes, but left in place the holm oaks, enjoying the hard work with nature all around me.
Naturally, it reminded me of the days working with my parents and grandparents when they had similar hives. I cannot forget the times when I used to accompany my grandfather to the woods to peel cork oaks and then make cork hives. I feel that this work that I am doing is a tribute to them and past beekeepers, and that this cultural heritage should be preserved for future generations.
With this in mind I will contact the cultural authorities to ask for special protection for this place which is undoubtedly an important part of Spanish apicultural history.