Luisa Martínez de Irujo Crespo Raybaud, daughter of Ignacio Martínez de Irujo y Artazcoz and Antonia Celina Florencia Crespo Raybaud, Dukes of Sotomayor, carries water bottles because her farm is burning. The Losacio (Zamora) fire devastates modest meadows and the haciendas with the most brilliant pedigrees in Spain. The smoke spreads and the flames threaten to spread to the old houses of the so-called Dehesa de Pozos, a historical site recreating the saga that is now derelict. The fire bounces back and forth between the dry land until it crashes into the buckets of Edmundo Iglesias, 82, World, Steward of the country and loyal to the place where he has served for 50 years. Very little was missing from these houses to follow the fate of some ships of the Martínez de Irujo, also destroyed by the searchlights. Luisa Martínez de Irujo and her husband Jaime Ligués breathe a sigh of relief: they saved him.
But his work has cost. The first sparks fly from one side of the farmhouse, which is reached from a road surrounded by blackish earth via a path flanked by two columns and tall trees. Mundo, still showing impressive strength at his age, carries buckets of water and throws them as best he can from the front heading towards the houses. The couple helps with water bottles while Jaime Ligués admires the security guard’s intensity: “The world has made a pact with the devil.” Isabel Martínez de Irujo, who entered the property after making sure that other buildings for animals on the Across the street in this area of the Municipality of Tábara, those suffering from uncontrolled fires are helping with water bottles on the ground to try to refresh the smoky areas that the water pouring out of Mundo is unable to smother. Soon they fill old buckets of paint into a disused faucet and heat them up with the flames. In half an hour of work they master the situation.
The group snorts. A tiled area is still smoking from the pallets piling up tiles, raising fears the danger will reignite. Carrying several bottles, the aristocrat insists, “Be careful with those pieces of wood.” After a while, he turns to those who fear the place the most: two three-month-old puppies. The two farmers are in a demarcated area and anxiously stare at the visitor while the sky is still blanketed with smoke from the rogue fronts that have already burned down more than 22,000 hectares in Zamora, according to UME sources, according to the satellite image used by the fire department more than 30,000. These attempts continue to increase the number of carbonized surfaces and also the exhausted families – regardless of their pedigree. “We saw what was happening and we wanted to come from Madrid on Monday, but everything was cut off and cleared and we had to wait,” explains the aristocrat, who once confirmed in the province the ecological and socio-economic catastrophe that involves an event of this . The first cousin of Carlos Fitz-James Stuart y Martínez de Irujo, Duke of Alba de Tormes, wears sneakers and looks around, still stunned by the effects of the fire.
Her husband, sweating while carrying more liquid to keep the fire from going beyond the limits, ironically and disgustedly denies the expansion capacity of these small fires. The front is spreading, utilizing the tinder that this parched land of low vegetation has become, and is also nourished by the wind. It creates an ideal tapestry for the fires to devour: “With what it costs to light a barbecue at home,” he jokes.
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Things settle down when a Civil Guard SUV pulls up at the end of the path. Four squads descend from it, on command when told to take their empty bottles and toss them like someone watering geraniums at those blackened and still-smoking areas that absorb the water like a hot pan if a steak is placed on it. Smoke rises, noises like a burning iron and the crackling of some still burning logs make it clear that reinforcements are needed. The guards call a firefighting team to take care of this area, which is adjacent to a part that miraculously has not yet burned during these two days of hell in Zamora province, but in the end they don’t come, although there are still some small gives flames in the area.
To prevent the fire from spreading, caring from Mundo, who doesn’t understand retirement, was key: “I grew up here, I grew up here and I worked here.” So he arms himself with a sulfatador filled with water that seems to sway like a demon and throws it on his back to further extinguish the last glowing ashes.
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