The Genal Valley is emptied of chestnuts | Spain

As a tradition, Diego Guerrero’s family saved a few days of vacation for the fall every year. For two weeks in October, fathers, sons, uncles and cousins ​​gathered to harvest the chestnuts of the farm of just three hectares that they own in Parautaa municipality in Malaga with 272 inhabitants. It never amounted to much, but it did mean a little joy for the domestic economy. In 2024 they have not even gone to collect them. And it is the fifth consecutive season that the same thing has happened. The drought and heat have left a harvest in minimal numbers, also affected by a Asian wasp pest. “We have only gone to pick a few for ourselves and for tourism, because the activity is already very far from being profitable,” highlights the farmer, also president of the Genal cooperative, with 40 members, which has not opened its doors for five years. doors. Machines gather dust waiting for better times in a region marked by depopulation.

About 1,500 families from the Genal Valley, made up of 15 small municipalities near Roundhave historically had chestnuts as a complement to their economy. Some directly as a first income. With about 4,000 hectares of chestnut trees, in good years, the area harvested about four million kilos, but today those figures seem like science fiction. With luck, this year we expect to harvest just over 20%, about 800,000 kilos. The only positive news is that it is double that of 2023. “It is very little, we are not able to raise our heads,” says Luis Burgos, manager of the second-grade cooperative Valle del Genal, based in Pujerra (274 inhabitants) and which brings together to about 300 members of the region. The usual export to countries such as Italy, the United Kingdom, Holland and Belgium has been reduced by half. Now most of the production stays close to the harvesting site—the stalls with roasted chestnuts are already smoking in Malaga and other large cities—and little leaves Spain. It is difficult to fill trucks with 24,000 kilos to Europe and large buyers have begun to look for alternatives in other markets.

There are several reasons why production remains at historic lows. The main one has to do with the drought. The data provided by the State Meteorological Agency (Aemet) They reflect that since the 1960s the area frequently received more than a thousand liters per square meter per year, but in the last five years the amount has been reduced to less than half. The spring rain boosts the production of each tree and reinforcement is needed in August and September to fatten the fruit, but in recent years, the water has been purely symbolic in summer. Furthermore, the heat has not helped either, because it dries the soil more and affects ripening.

In towns like Alpandeire (266 inhabitants) the average annual temperature was around 17 degrees, but the last three have exceeded 18 and in 2023 it will reach 19, according to Aemet. To this we must add the Asian wasp plague (Drycosmus kuriphilus) who arrived in the area a decade ago. They are tiny insects, the size of a grain of rice, but their voracity has put the survival of this forest in check. They lay their eggs in the buds each spring and decrease production by sequestering nutrients from the trees. It also facilitates the appearance of a fungus called Phytophthora cinnamomiwhich affects the roots and sometimes kill the chestnut trees.

“It’s a disaster”

Faced with the accumulation of misfortunes, small farmers—the overwhelming majority in the region—have harvested little. “I have barely gained 100 kilos,” says one of them, Mateo Rosado. There has also been no hiring of workers, since the daily wage—about 60 euros—costs more than what is received later for the harvest. If the earliest chestnuts, which were collected in municipalities at higher altitudes such as Igualeja or Pujerra, had a price of two euros per kilo in the warehouses, the later ones – from towns such as Parauta – that have been collected this last week have already been around the euro. “You see them in stores for six euros but they even pay you 80 cents per kilo. For that price it’s not even worth going to the countryside. And those who used to hire 15 or 20 people during the season have now gone themselves to pick what they could,” summarizes Katrin Ortega, whose family has not harvested this year either. “It was important money for many people in the town,” says the mayor of Parauta.

“The lack of profitability of the product also has socioeconomic consequences, such as the depopulation of the territory,” they point out from the Young Farmers Association (Asaja), which in a recent statement pointed out that the accumulation of bad harvests is also “an obstacle to the maintenance of tradition in these important producing regions.” Diego Guerrero himself says that his daughter will never consider picking chestnuts like he, his parents or his grandparents did. “For young people it is no longer an option for the future. It is a very slave job that can then go to hell in a few days without it depending on you. It is not a viable option,” he adds. He believes that today the best thing in the area is to open a store or a bar dedicated to tourism. In fact, chestnut trees are the main tourist attraction of the Genal Valley, which has promoted the Bosque de Cobre brand to attract hikers. The municipality of Parauta itself has created its Enchanted Forest with a series of sculptures of fable characters made, precisely by Guerrero, who is also a sculptor. Now the town is packed to capacity every autumn weekend thanks to the initiative. Meanwhile, the field is bleeding.