About a decade ago I spent a few days in Murcia over Easter – candle lit processions with haunting gypsy voices piercing the dark; hooded fingers carrying wooden sculptures telling the Easter story. Then the joy of Easter Sunday, rebirth.
Then the Spring Festival. Farmers paraded their animals and showed off their agricultural prowess; young girls whispered secrets and threw flowers into the crowd. No one does Easter as well as the Spanish. Easter greetings to all.