I head south in the car, leaving the city of Cartagena behind and skirting a hill whose top overlooks the battlements of the old castle of Galeras. However, when I look in the rearview mirror, a Seat 600 appears and, at some point, everything around me takes on a sepia, retro tone, of future nostalgia. It is the charm that La Algameca Chica promises, or the postcard that contains all the summers of our lives.
Composed of one hundred and ten shacks where ten families stay permanently, in addition to numerous vacationers who bequeathed their plot of paradise, La Algameca Chica is a community, an island in time and space reminiscent of the aquatic towns of Halong Bay, in vietnam. A hook that immerses us in a micro universe where the sun and the breeze last forever.
The birth of La Algameca took place as a result of destiny, or perhaps the will of Amalia, a witch and card-thrower whose little house lost somewhere on the Cartagena coast already confirmed the poetic inhabitation of this coastline full of legends and mysteries. In fact, the saying “tell Amalia†is today the neighborhood mantra that still floats between blue doors and racks full of pots.
The opening of the current site of La Algameca took place in the 18th century, when Carlos III completed the construction of a defensive wall around the city of Cartagena. This project involved diverting the Benipila promenade towards the sea, forming a bay, an algamec, which invited the Mediterranean to enter the land until it formed the only estuary landscape in the entire southeast of Spain. The defense through batteries installed at this strategic point during the 19th century would attract the presence of a tavern and five first houses to which many more would be added in the coming years.
Since then, this set of shacks for bathers and fishermen has been caught between two waters: the legality of a fortuitous settlement and the sought-after status of Asset of Cultural Interest as a way to protect this mirage over time.
I enter La Algameca Chica accompanied by those who show pride in an oasis unlike any other. Here there are no tourist infrastructures, no bars, no discos, just the simple life inspired by its inhabitants, the whispering wind between the houses and a child leaning out of the boat tied to a stilt house. An aesthetic that dances between the nostalgic charm of the Spanish summers of yesteryear and a piece of the Asian continent that must have arrived floating in the boat of a Vietnamese fisherman who had never tried mazamorra or michirones before.
A cat is curled up on a whitewashed staircase, next to the mosaic of boats that someone carved on that blue wall. The aroma of the hake that La Vasca prepares, that of the Sidi pastry from the other side of the estuary, or the presence of a kingfisher as a symbol of perfect balance. The gray herons and cormorants that never knew concrete. Hanging clothes, an urban art mural, a secluded parking lot so that no one dares to interrupt this peace. And I shake hands, I give a hug. In the background, the turquoise water that evokes a community and meditative song.
José Manuel, the president of the La Algameca Neighborhood Association, proudly points out his house, built with strong shutters that act as a facade. “Here we help each other among the neighbors and we do everything ourselvesâ€, he points out, while I see a boy at the end of the street, that boy who has left his calligraphy notebook and marbles at home to look out over the sea. The child we recognize again every summer. “My children took off their sandals from May to October but, unlike other places, while they bathed all the neighbors watched them. He could be calm â€.
The way of life in La Algameca is worthy of anthropological and social study: on each house there is a tank with water brought from a spring. “You’d be surprised how well-used water can spread,” says José Manuel. The light is propelled by solar panels because electricity bills do not arrive here, and a bridge joins the two banks of La Algameca crossing the estuary.
As we ascend the gravel path that surrounds the town, the Amalia arch can be seen in the distance, in honor of the sorceress whose house is today a handful of stones lost among the pines. And the view expands, the uralite and dried palm roofs seem to converse with the little boats that today the children of La Algameca have proudly bequeathed. “A long time ago, having an “inherited†shack in La Algameca caused a certain suspicion. Today is a privilegeâ€, adds José Ibarra, historian, friend of the algamequeros and author of the book The Beginnings of contemporary settlement in the area of ​​La Algameca Chica in Cartagena.
Ibarra is also the guide for the guided tour that is carried out every month through the website of the Neighborhood Association of La Algameca Chica. Likewise, anyone who is on the hiking route that links the port of Cartagena with La Algameca can visit the town, sneak into that time trap and feel at home.
Perhaps when you return you will leave behind the colors and sepia tones, that nostalgia that only lasts here. But we will still have the smile of someone who knew the secret, with a heart swollen with saltpeter and wind. Because in La Algameca, summer is not a season, but an eternal state of mind.
