The newest testament, according to the enlightened San Tronco part 13

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie


It was already busy in main street and I was glad that I had taken the bike and not my old car. Old Spanish villages are not built for traffic, the streets are narrow and were made for walking or the odd farmer who would come to the market by horse or donkey. The embedded iron rings in the walls were from a time when there had been no or almost no traffic in the streets and a farmer could secure his beast there. The few parking places were already full. I put my bike next to the town hall and hung my helmet from the side mirror. It was only a few years ago that helmets had become compusory and then in August, the warmest month in Andalucia, you were excused from wearing one because the police found it too hot to ride around with something on your head. It was a fact, at 40 degrees plus, your hair would stick to your head and I really did not know anyone who owned a motor jacket. Throughout the year you could ride about in your T-shirt.


Nothing much happens in the mountain villages except for the fiestas. A funeral always attracts a lot of people because the village gathers and sees the deceased out. Now that it was a priest who died, the village was full, including folk from the 32 hamlets that fell under our main village. It was a good reason to go to the village and meet old friends, drink a bit or to visit a family member.

I had to work my way through the crowd to the Peke bar which was opposite the church square and weddings or funerals gave him great joy because his turnover would soar that day .

It was a cozy come together. "To Father Julio," I heard next to me, and the men at the bar raised their glasses and repeated, "To Julio, that he may arrive" Alfonso pushed through the crowd and came next to me. "Hola San, nice day for a funeral," he greeted me. "It could be worse," I agreed. "Peke, dos orujo hierbas," he called out to the barbman who wiped his hands on his apron. Here, no barechas were drunk but Orujo, distilled by Peke himself, with a bitter herb flavor that turned your stomach in protest. The 80% proof burned all the way down through your esophagus and immediately anesthetized the trajectory.

Alfonso's face froze a moment and became a grimace when he took the first sip. I saw how he shivered and knew what to expect. "Down it quickly," I assumed. "Salud," I said to my friend from the neighboring hamlet. "Fuerza a canut," he filled in smiling, his face had once again taken on the usual expression. I gulped it away and although the glass was empty in one swig, I still felt my stomach protest. Also, I felt a shiver run down my back and then I had a warm feeling where my stomach had been.


"Every year stronger, fuck a duck," muttered Alfonso, "it's that we are Iberian macho's, or else I would not touch that stuff." "Yes, it brings about the distinction," I laughed and pointed at the empty classes to Peke, who came to our side with the orujo bottele. "To Padre Julio," I cried and slowly drank the glass that now was almost pleasant. "That he may arrive," shouted Alfonso and took a big gulp. It was logical that Peke gave preference to his own orujo, he did not buy it, he distilled it himself and each glass was 100% profit.

I heard the death bell ring, it was almost time for the last mass that Father Julio would experience. I looked out the window and saw the massive crowd. "We have to go," I said, "the coffin has come." Then I saw something that immediately drew my attention. Tronco and Ricardo in a long jute shirt on sandals, as two biblical prophets. The people parted a little to let them through and Tronco positioned himself in front of the church doors. A few steps behind him, Richie took position. Every villager had his best or cleanest shirt on and here were two men in all simplicity that looked as if they had walked out of a bible book.

San Daniel 2017

also read part 14


for more info concerning San Daniel press the following link/ voor meer info betreffende San Daniel druk op de link a.u.b.:landingspage-san-daniel


Nederlandse auteurs page van San Daniel in Hebban

and the page of Dutch authors in Hebban

Author's pages:

Amazon author’s page San Daniel


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Vriendelijke groet en God Bless, kind regards and God Bless!


The Book of Enoch- The Reluctant Messenger. Retrieved 14 June 2014.

The Book of Enoch. "The Book of Enoch as translated into Ethiopic belongs to the last two centuries B.C. All the writers of the NT were familiar with it and were more or less influenced by it in thought"

Nathaniel Schmidt, "Original Language of the Parables of Enoch," pp. 343–345, in William Rainey Harper

John J. Collins in ed. Boccaccini Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection 2005 ISBN 0-8028-2878-7, page 346

P. Flint The Greek fragments of Enoch from Qumran cave 7 in ed.Boccaccini Enoch and Qumran Origins 2005 ISBN 0-8028-2878-7,

Nibley, Hugh (December 1975), "A Strange Thing in the Land: The Return of the Book of Enoch, Part 2", Ensign


04/06/2017 21:51

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