On the outskirts of Chiclana de la Frontera, Paco Benítez, 63, is leading a quiet revival. His family plot in El Marquesado, covering nearly 8,000 square meters, is now home to one of Cádiz province’s largest prickly pear plantations, a crop that until recently had all but disappeared from the Andalusian field. Cádiz is among the Spanish provinces where the prickly-pear pest Dactylopius opuntiae was documented as it spread across the country.
Benítez’s connection to the land runs deep. He left school at 13 to work in agriculture, then moved into construction to make ends meet. Even while building houses, he kept tending vines and vegetables whenever he could. In 2011, he planted a row of prickly pear cacti to shield his vines from the relentless Levante wind. The experiment stayed with him. By 2022, he had replaced old grapevines with rows of chumberas, expanding the plantation with cuttings from his own plants.
Fighting for Survival
Every harvest brings a new battle. The carmine cochineal, an insect known as Dactylopius opuntiae, has devastated prickly pear crops across southern Spain. Native to the Americas, it was first documented in Spain in Murcia and Alicante in 2007. The insect feeds on the cactus’s sap, leaving conspicuous white patches and weakening the plant. In severe cases, it can kill it. Researchers José Luis Serrano-Montes, José Antonio Olmedo-Cobo, José Gómez-Zotano and Emilio Martínez-Ibarra reviewed reports published from 2007 to 2015 across 49 municipalities in eight Spanish provinces. Benítez spends countless hours monitoring his fields and treating infected plants before the infestation spreads. Junta de Andalucía data cited in the research recorded infestation in 80% of prickly pears in Almería’s Almanzora district by 2014.
Despite the crop’s natural resistance to drought, the cochineal’s constant threat has turned what was once a low-maintenance fruit into a labor-intensive gamble. “You can lose a whole season if you’re not careful,” Benítez explains. He is not alone: farmers across Spain have faced similar struggles, including conflicts between agricultural work and retirement rules. In a separate La Rioja case, the regional high court confirmed that a retired farmer had to repay €46,837.14 in pension benefits received between April 2020 and November 2022. He had continued agricultural activity deemed incompatible with receiving the pension in full under Article 213 of Spain’s General Social Security Law (see more on the legal complexities facing Spanish farmers).
From Abundance to Scarcity
For decades, prickly pears grew wild along roadsides and property lines, free for the taking. Their abundance left few farmers seeing commercial value in the fruit. But as the cochineal spread and old plants died off, the once-ubiquitous cactus became a rarity. The pest spread in part because prickly pears grew in abundance along roadsides and on agricultural plots, as well as on abandoned land. Today, Benítez’s harvest is in demand at local markets and fruit shops, with wholesalers also seeking the crop. The scarcity has prompted other farmers to try reviving it, using cuttings from surviving plants or sourcing new ones where possible.
A Crop with Deep Roots
The prickly pear’s return is more than a personal project for Benítez. It restores a crop woven into Andalusia’s rural identity for centuries. The cactus thrives in poor, dry soils where few other crops survive, offering a potential lifeline for marginal land if the pest can be kept at bay. Benítez’s experience shows that the future of the prickly pear in southern Spain will depend on tradition and innovation, backed by relentless attention to the threats that nearly erased it from the field.
