Good morning!
Today I'm writing to you from the shed, with my boots still wet from the dew and my notebook in hand. You already know that here in Valencia, and with our colleagues across Spain, we work every day.
Every day, we tend to the fields and what they provide us, just as our grandparents did, but with a sharp focus on the present.
And the present, unfortunately, is quite turbulent. I won't get dramatic, I just want to tell you, from one farmer to a person who eats every day, how a war thousands of miles away can directly affect a Valencian orange.
The story is about two sea passages that are like shortcuts across the planet. One is called Bab el Mandeb and the other is Hormuz. They are narrow stretches of water connecting seas and oceans, and a huge amount of goods passes through them.
A very large portion of global trade flows through Bab el Mandeb, and nearly a fifth of the world's oil passes through Hormuz. Imagine two funnels in a kitchen. If someone blocks them or if the passage becomes complicated, the entire process is delayed.
With the war in the region, many ships have started to take longer routes to avoid trouble. That adds an enormous amount of kilometers and days of navigation. And of course, when a ship travels more kilometers, it consumes more fuel. The price of fuel has risen and fallen, but it has remained significantly higher than normal.
When something like this happens, the entire chain becomes strained.
And the countryside is connected to the world by more threads than it seems.
Let me give you an example that affects us very directly. We work with a supplier of organic inputs to care for the soil and trees naturally.
We spoke this week, and they told me that, in recent months, their costs for bringing in raw materials have risen by about fifteen percent. The journey, fuel, insurance—everything has become more expensive for them.
When we talk on the phone, you can hear it in their voice—that mix of pride in continuing to do things well and anguish at not being able to absorb all the costs. They've had to raise their prices, not because they've gotten greedy, but because otherwise, they wouldn't make ends meet.
That increase reaches us like a domino effect. Caring for the land costs us more.
And this is where we rack our brains every week.
We advocate that farmers receive a fair price for their work and that you can afford to eat well. The easy thing would be to lower quality or tamper with harvest dates, but, {nombre}, you know us and you know that's not our philosophy.
Our way is to harvest on demand and deliver what the tree yields when it's at its peak, without shortcuts. Sometimes we have to review numbers, yes, but the important thing here is to keep our promise: transparency and respect for those who trust us.
To understand it with some down-to-earth humor: it's like when you walk to the bakery for bread and suddenly your street is closed, and you have to go all the way around the neighborhood. You arrive with the bread, yes, but you've walked a lot, earned a shower, and the bread tastes more expensive even if it's the same.
Something similar is happening with the ships, but multiplied by thousands of kilometers and millions of kilos of goods. 🚢
I know these things usually aren't discussed in an email about farming, but I think it's important. Besides, to be honest, I'd like to hear your opinion.
In the meantime, we continue to do what we do best. Caring for the soil, nurturing the trees, and picking only what you order every morning.
This profession has something that reconciles me with the world: it reminds me that beyond flags, headlines, and maps, we all breathe the same air, need water, and depend on food.
And food comes from the earth and from the hands that work it. Yours may not be covered in mud like mine, but deep down, we're in the same boat.
You trust us to fill your fridge with good things, and we trust you to give meaning to that work. 🍊
A big hug and thank you for being on the other side. Early tomorrow morning, I'll wake up again to organize what a new week has in store for us.
See you soon and thank you for reading this far,
