Day 32. Wednesday 9 April.

The day had 2 parts: the first part was intended to be a morning saving energy. But a mistake by T with the date for a flamenco show booking, which clashed with our Alhambra tour, saw us tramping to the theatre, hoping to speak to a real person and correct the error.

The actual theatre address on Google maps was wrong, and at first being unaware of this, we confidently headed off to some obscure destination. Dear Doris’ directions subsequently had us way off the mark, so what should have been a wee morning stroll ahead of a big afternoon, was NOT. Eventually inputted the correct address rather than relying on Google and/or Apple Maps and got to the theatre – to find it shut! If there is any silver lining it is that we now know how to get there: a very nice reply to an email begging for a rebooking has us saving our dancing legs for tomorrow night (10 April). However by this stage, within a couple of hours of our big tour, legs and feet were seriously complaining.

Part 2, the afternoon excursion to Alhambra saved the day. Military planning had the pre-paid parking done, driving route had been sorted the day before and plenty of time factored in for the unforeseen.  The first unforeseen was before we started our drive: the car park cameras don’t recognise our French number plate and won’t open the boom! And now we know why as this is our second such incident. Some tense phone connections in Spanish with instructions to press a number etc, which were meaningless if you didn’t speak Spanish – and when an operator was asked if someone spoke English, it was ‘please wait’ and then a disconnection. A friendly local spoke on our behalf and our host Miguel sent a QR code, so one of those worked and we got out.

We still had time up our sleeves and D (now a real Spanish driver) got us to the pre-paid parking at Alhambra in good order even after a wrong turn that took us well off the direct route, and then two cyclists on phones, steering one-handed, on a narrow road, so we were unable to overtake safely: by then the Cool Spanish driver was a bit more than warm. When we got to the boom gate once again the cameras didn’t recognize the number plate, so we reversed out looking for the (non-existent) entry that would work. At that point D realised we would just need to take a ticket and pay again, so returned and took our ticket. No more online booking – lesson learned!

However, with cool-dude status quickly returned, we found our guide at the correct meeting point (the fabulous Veronika, who complimented us for punctuality. We were a group of 6 (two quick-humoured Germans who said they were delighted to meet Real Aussies and two Americans (she was Chilean) from Arizona where summer temps are even higher than in Granada. 

From the outset, Veronika was charming, efficient, engaging and all-round marvellous as she handled questions (we presume information about history etc were accurate) and with super-skilled time management (maybe she’d been military in a previous life). She is Russian, and dealing with a mortgage in a village nearby, commuting to ‘the best office in the world’ and her favourite city…we felt we’d struck gold. She brought the Alhambra alive with tales of intrigue and conspiracy, cultural routines within the palaces and gardens, simplifying the waves of conquest and re-conquest. The three hours of steps and rooms, pathways, courtyards, fountains, views….(the legs, feet & hips!!!!) Restoration and preservation of the Alhambra gem is a marvel. Photography, particularly with an old iPhone was not easy due to the scale of the site and buildings, and of course the milling crowds who all jostled for the best pic. If D ever loses his cool in a public place it will be at one of the people who walk in front of a picture set up to get that position for themselves – or who spend an inordinate amount of time taking a pic while others wait. So far, he has contained himself.

Warm thanks to Veronika, some well-deserved extra currency delivered and we were back to the car for the next departure adventure, seamless this time with D just presenting the ticket for scanning, paying again and we headed home. Access to car parking there also seamless using the QR code. Thursday WILL be quieter. 

Day 31. Tuesday 8 April.

An early start to the day (0300) where sadness was tinged with pride as family members did so well: Cam, Lily and Elsie had huge roles that they carried out so well at the funeral of a special mum/grand mum Leonne.

It was still dark at 0430, so we (D) rested ahead of the road trip to Granada.  

Finished packing (we have gathered so much in the way of food essentials). Then Lucia dropped by to farewell us… swapping stories of families (for T it was just like an old ESL class)…photos shared, stories of health..etc  and learning a bit more about some of the locals – seems like the mansions over the way are owned either by Germans or Spaniards working in Germany. What are the huge terrace wall constructions about? Lucia doesn’t know; the foreigners have the mansions (T described as  castillos, Lucia described as mansions) & Spaniards live below.

Only a short leg to Granada, about two hours at a leisurely pace. So arrived around midday. We weren’t due to check in until 1500, so used that time to recon the parking at Alhambra (looks like plenty, and we’ve booked ahead anyway) and to have a walk around the area below it. D managed to drive into the underground car park EXIT but a very tolerant attendant reversed him and directed him the right way. The cars following which were held up just waited patiently – no angry horns. Again, such a  civilized approach to road usage. In D’s defence, written by him, it was not at all well signposted.

After a very decent coffee & pastry, made contact with Miguel who was delighted to let us in early. RV was at the underground car park adjacent to the apartment. We arrived a little earlier so used the hazard lights to (illegally) park while we waited. Worked a treat – again, no one beeped. D is feeling very comfortable with his new Spanish identity. As it turns out we were supposed to just enter and licence plate recognition would let us in. When that was explained, in we went, but didn’t stop long enough for the camera to focus, so the barrier didn’t lift. Another attendant, a little less tolerant, instructed us to reverse and get a ticket. Duly done, parked, then Miguel fixed the problem for the dozy Aussie. Next time it might work (it didn’t – twice – in Cordoba.) And it’s the system for the parking at Alhambra tomorrow! But, eh! D is the cool Spanish dude.

Apartment is on the 7th floor – no view but very very stylish & well set up and very comfortable. It’ll do for three nights. T is amazed at the spotless of every accommodation so far… no fingerprints on any surface, glass squeaky clean… sorry Westobys for sloppy Fisher…

Settled in and later took a short walk up town just to stretch.

And we now have a little hand pulled cargo trolley to move ‘the pantry’ (a bag of dry ingredients, a bag of fresh (even tho’ T runs the fridge down to the last bit of green at each stay) plus the vino(s); we resisted getting the ‘granny shopping’ version.

T fell apart after losing her man at the Corte Ingles store (imagine a Spanish DJ) …there were 2 entrances, parallel but off different streets & T was waiting at one, D at the other, the latter being the agreed rv. But has now been put together again, as she prepared….

Dinner. A Spanish omelette tonight of leftover ingredients: half an onion, handful of mushrooms & herbs, 1 potato, sprinkle of cheese, 3 eggs… every stovetop & microwave is different but we get there!

An early night (there’s a yappy dog nearby) with no pressure, as the Alhambra tour isn’t until 1700.

Day 31. Monday 7 April.

We hadn’t planned a beach trip, just a ‘take the car & head East’ for a little way, before gathering paella supplies for tonight’s feast.

The road winds along the cliffs (a bit like Cinqueterra) & towns (hotel & apartment blocks) merge in a continuous narrow urban strip, connected across gorges by bridges & tunnels. Agriculture fits onto the steep mountain slopes, a lot under plastic, interspersed with orchards of avocados, custard apples, peaches, guava…..Production is intensive, alongside tourism.

 Celebrated finding an easy parking spot in Almunecar in an underground parking lot at the Mercadona (1 hour free) then 8 cents per minute after that, and if 20 euros were spent in the supermarket, then 2 hours would be free. 

Coffee & a walk on the esplanade would fit the timeframe… D reckoned some vinos would meet the target (save on parking by spending on essentials is a reasonable theory). Cafes were doing a very slow trade at the beachside…perhaps being a Monday?

The esplanade was splendid…glorious sun, clear water, a few bodies turning brown & browner & no tourist groups. Took a walk up to where there was a huge statue of Abd-al Rahman, who set up a caliphate from here that was, of course, subsequently conquered after about three centuries. The statue was erected in 2005 by the town council – it seemed to be another small example of acceptance of history and the need to co-exist.

T thought ‘pity we didn’t bring our gear, the water looks fantastic’. Then realized we actually did have swimmers in main bags in the car, so nothing to stop us. While D gathered wine and some other essentials, T gathered towels & water shoes (stones underfoot rather than sand) from bazaar next door & in the underground car park we did a quick change. Hope there was no CCTV. 

 Onto the beach to realize why no one was actually in the water! Colour magnificent, but temperature??? D waded into brass monkey level, and warned T that it was ‘cramp temp’. Yes, it was, but wonderful once the body adjusted. D’s body didn’t really adjust, although he did plunge in at the end so that his manhood wasn’t challenged. For T, the hot stones-bake afterwards was magic.

An extempore lunch happened on the wall (bread, cheese, jamon…we must remember to take oil on every outing, as bread, although beautifully crusty, is rather tasteless without oil). The couple playing boule didn’t mind us observing their technique; T thought the senora was pretty good and the senor did all the talking, but there was a ‘tense moment’ about something (this came after an intensive measuring moment in which they used a phone to do the digital measure!)o

Back to the car & forward to Motril, where tropical fruit production is huge but we couldn’t get an explanation of the orchards that look a bit sick with both green & yellow leaves.

Returning to home via Lidl (scoops of prawns, mussels, cockles & calamari) for that paella feast.

Tomorrow we head to Granada (just up the road) for the only thing on T’s list of ‘must do’s’…Alhambra.

Some thoughts on driving in Spain. Well firstly they’re on the wrong side of the road, even if it is the right side. But having got used to that, and a new car, there are a few things to note. Firstly, despite the aforementioned factors, it is easier to drive here than in Canberra. The reason? There are, of course, road rules such as speed limits, parking restrictions etc, but no-one apart from visitors obeys them. So the upside of that is that the unexpected is entirely expected and no-one seems to get aggro – we have seen no ‘road rage’ of any sort, apart from the occasional horn when someone hasn’t ignored the red light at a pedestrian crossing because there’s no-one on it. Secondly, hazard warning lights were probably invented here because they are an accepted way of signaling that you are stopping in the middle of the street/lane for whatever reason, or maybe no reason – and that’s accepted with equanimity as long as the flashers are on. Thirdly, drivers are polite to pedestrians (crossings are everywhere) and seem happy to stop to let folk get over. Fourthly, all speed limits are advisory only – in the 120 km/hr zone its at least 140; in the 100 zone, 130; in the 30 zone, 80. I’m not making this up, it is empirical. The problem is that, as a driver, you inadvertently tend to go with the flow: until the co-driver/passenger offers guidance or gasps. So it’s actually been more relaxing than expected.

Day 30. Sunday 6 April.

Yesterday we’d observed a very smart, colourful looking bird foraging on the ground, and initially thought it was carrying a twig in its beak- then realized it was actually a long beak. Couldn’t track it down then, but today discovered it is the Eurasian Hoopoe.

Today was to be a quiet day, to regroup before our next stop in Granada. But there was the Mercadillo de Nerja y Rastrillo to visit: sort of Camberwell Market (Victoria) but perhaps more car boot. Found parking and wandered. D came away with one shirt at 2 Euro – as we left and an industrious woman showed her skills with colourful wristbands.

Stopped at the Lidl and Aldi competitive arena, to find neither competing: both shut on Sundays! We weren’t the only ones who drove in and drove out disappointed. T had announced that Lidl seafood would make tonight’s paella meal (so maybe we’ll starve!)

A few slow hours at Casa Torres (house of bull – is that really appropriate?) then a drive down to the waterfront via the Avenida Alcado de Antonio Villas Laras Rosas – as Doris delights to tell us in full before reaching every one of the many roundabouts in close proximity to each other that we crossed. We planned to walk around the coastline, and check out the Balcon de Europa. Found a car park on the river – two miracles in one day! Inevitably joined the crowds of tourists, and were caught up in tour groups on several occasions. Beaches quiet but some hardy swimmers and sun bakers. Couldn’t walk all the way around, due to footpath renovations and gaps in the walking trail, but ended up at a small beach: Playa Carabeo. It was then time to return home for a glass of wine on the patio. For a ‘quiet day’, we still managed over 11k steps.

Dinner. As mentioned, a paella had been planned, but due to Lidl and Aldi letting us down, it was a T special using up half a zucchini, a handful of mushrooms, a tomato purchased on the way home, (as we parked in a bus zone with hazard lights on – very Spanish) & sundry herbs topped with grated pecorino.

Day 29. Saturday 5 April.

Took a stroll last evening to meet some of the dogs who keep up a constant conversation across the valley during the night. A couple were roaming free, but although looking like neighborhood toughs, were actually very wary of us. It was interesting to see our little one bedroom cottage with its light on, against some of the mansions.

So to today. A four hour return trip to the mountains to visit Trevelez, the highest village in Spain, but more renowned for its jamon.

You couldn’t guess.

As we parked, observed a personal delivery service, reminiscent of the 1950s when bread and milk were delivered.

Wandered through and up the town, and were surprised that there were so few tourists obvious, despite at least four big coaches.  T noticed the crochet around all flowerpots & the rag rugs at every souvenir shop. Are they really handwoven?

As we were about to depart decided we really should visit the Museo Vallejo.  Two other couples had the same idea, but it was closed. One guy rang, and (a Spanish) five minutes later a lass arrived to let us in. We were glad that we’d done so – another window into a unique Spanish industry.

The ham-making tradition of the town dates back to ancient times, although the Vallejo family was the first to industrialize the curing process in Trevelez in 1951. The process does not use artificial preservatives, rather a natural curing process using salt, but with a low residual salt content. It is, apparently, a health food, and should be eaten with wine. Tick. The audio & poster guide took us through the jamon story, from early times to 20th century processes, still mostly hand-made from receiving, selecting, weighing, salting, washing, hanging, inspecting, buttering the 80,000 legs per year of only male & female pigs (both sorts castrated, and no other options) from certified growers. We marveled at being able to walk among the 25,000 legs there today,  (just hanging around) curing for about 24-36 months.There seemed to be no issue with people wandering amongst the legs (possibly touching….!!!). Trevellez jamon has a reputation for being the finest in Spain. We brought home a sample – having also bought some from Aldi a couple of days ago.

The road home wound up & wound down, repeat, taking us through mountains, impossibly located villages on slopes, tunnels on the autovia & finally down to sea level. Perhaps tomorrow will be a quiet day. Perhaps.

Dinner. Poached salmon and asparagus, with a compromised green salad (red tomatoes, red radishes, white feta cheese, yellow lemon juice, olive oil)

Day 28. Friday 4 April. End of Month 1!

Visited Cueva Nerja today – a renowned  geological and archaeological site. Well organised entry, which included a virtual reality tour and entry to the Museo Nerja (in town) afterwards. And a nice conversation while waiting for tickets with a family from Mauritius who advised us that there was a lower seniors tariff. Ta.

So it was another cathedral today, but this awesome one made by nature, and demonstrating the irresistable power of nature and the subtle persistence of the drip, drip, drip – (no gold, no paintings, no monstrance…cupolas & columns of calcium carbonate aplenty) and the occasional wake-up earthquake.

It was interesting that there seemed to be no restrictions on touching accessible outcrops (unlike in Australia) despite there being a concern with the ‘green disease’, (see last pic) a microorganism that has learnt to photosynthesise in artificial light.

The virtual display wasn’t quite as disorienting (for D) as the one at an earlier cathedral – apart from a few occasions where you virtually flew over low outcrops, or through a narrow gap, or seemed likely to be tapped on the head by a Neanderthal. D found himself pulling his knees up on a couple of occasions. T probably used to Neanderthals.

The museum was also well done, complementing the cave tour, and adding lots more on the history of Nerja and the region. For a while this region produced silk, then sugar cane. It has struck us that Andalucia has a history of occupation, conquest and re-conquest, involving a range of races and religions. But, as far as we can tell, it is accepted as part of the movement of people through history, and there seem to be no attempts to re-visit the past to correct it.

Down to the sea, and a search for a couple of charity shops. A few folk on the beach, and a couple of swimmers. Two little Irish-accent girls enjoyed the paddle – until their dresses got wet and the gravel/sand hurt the feet: mum & dad to the rescue.

Found one charity shop, but it was closed. Back via Lidl for tonight’s meal (Lidl is directly opposite Aldi, and an exact clone). Neither has been anything like busy. We did wonder how they could both survive, but perhaps the main tourist season tells a different story.

Dinner. Baked/poached salmon, with steamed vegies (potatoes, zucchini, asparagus) and a fresh salad. Evening is dampish but forecast is sun for weekend.

Day 27. Thursday 3 April.

Lucia had demonstrated the operation of the retractable overhead awning over the patio, and asked that we bring it in if there was any wind. During the night it started to rain, so D went outside, retracted the awning, but it busted. (David repair van from Gaudix nowhere to be found) so an apologetic WhatsApp to Lucia.

She and Sebastian came over and he replaced the screws and plugs – the cross beams are in fact concrete, painted to look like wood. It was not an easy job. D advised Lucia that he thought it needed an L bracket at the wall end and a wedge at the end beam and, explained by diagram ( D – van skills to the fore). She nodded and said she would take this up with the provider. We won’t be using it again!

Better news on the tyre scene. The expert in Nerja advised that the little scar was superficial, and not at all a safety issue. 

Day is overcast but not heavy: hoping rain stays off. Apparently Spain has had an unusually wet winter, not only in Valencia. So off to Frigiliana to check out mostly the old Moorish town. Followed Doris on Apple Maps instructions which took us to a dead end – ‘you have arrived’- where the tourist train turns around. And of course, no parking spots. So did a U turn and, another miracle, immediately found a parking spot. We later noted lots of spots further down, including an underground parking lot, with ‘Libre’ spots.

Down the hill to the ‘3 Cultures’ area that sits between the new and old towns. Bustling with a mixed market (but not much selling) and lots of tourists, many British voices and our first encounter with the recognizable ‘f word’ (cringe moment, and again later). Wandered away towards the old town then zig zagged up through a new garden into the narrow and steep Moorish streets, now a maze of souvenir/art shops, bars and rental accommodation. 

Came across a photo shoot of some sort. Main focus was a haughty princess in a slinky black outfit, including stilettos. We noticed that when not being photographed, she not only put on a coat and comfy (brown) flats while refreshing lustrous hair and redoing makeup, but later changed into sneakers for lunch.

T loved the street & house gardens…pots and plantings everywhere, cacti, wisteria, bougainvillea, azaleas & over a high town boundary wall: the chrysanthemum daisies.

Came across the church of St Anthony of Padua with interesting, beautiful external features, and although inside was not as flash as some, it was still a statement of the power of the church. The wooden doors were probably the best part and T appreciated the understated architecture (Mudejar?)

Other things of interest: the cobble patterns, the steep alleyways, the ‘kids’ blue door, the rescue cat lady (T counted 10 cats at photo point) & oh dear! the alats! (reminiscent of a terrible Fisher episode with white ants).

Returned to the ‘3 Cultures’ area and stopped for a lunch and non-alcoholic beer (Plates of spicy patatas wedges had been spotted…as well as calamari). The waiter became quite friendly when he found out we were Australian while we were setting the bill (that might have had something to do with it).

Returning to home base: washing dry & a vino & the renovation work goes on across the valley: is it a deck extension? A pool Reno? Whichever, the steep slope and worker movement is of WH&S interest

Dinner. Spaghetti bol.

Day 26. Wednesday 2 April.

Today’s road took us into the Parque National y Natural de Sierra Nevada, negotiating the digital-blue-spaghetti-screen line past the skiers & down the southern canyon side to the sea.

T chatted with a recently retired motor-cyclist (Dutch) out for a glorious ride who mentioned the solar & wind farms below…bringing far more income than agriculture & an indulgent lifestyle.

When T mentioned her surprise at how strong the religious traditions seemed to be, given this is 2025, his take was ‘the Spanish have nothing better to do but their fiestas’. Interesting take. There is definitely an air of leisure/not bothering/not-employed & crumbling urban stuff abounds – but we are not, of course, seeing the whole picture. T reflected on the story of power/ wealth/conquest & the Dutchman mentioned 2025 Putin/Ukraine….nothing has changed. 

Moving on in search of a coffee, eventually finding a bar in Torvizcon, a crumbling village & the only other customer (beer-time for this ex- Belgian) explained how the almond orchards planted on vertical land are worthless now since mechanical harvesting methods in USA & Australia mean that it’s not viable to farm almonds here (terrain can only be accessed by human labour) & villages have been deserted by young people. 

There are huge plastic enclosures throughout the mountains, presume that any piece of land remotely flat (or that can be flattened) is identified for vegetable growing…tomatoes, peppers, melons, beans….anything that appears on fruit-shop shelves.

Lunch break was in Orgiva at a halal cafe & although D was craving chips – spotted on nearby table, and not all eaten – the Shawarma or for T the vegetarian alternative was plenty. No beer either, not even non-alcoholic.

Excellent autovia & tunnels brought us down to sea level (Costa del Sol) & to Frigiliana (a small village behind Nerja). National roads are fantastic, so some folk are employed!

D had been in text contact with Lucia & advised of 1600 arrival…we got in at 1555 & waited. Around 1630 Lucia & husband Sebastian arrived to welcome us: Sebastian a little apologetic that Lucia doesn’t look at her screen constantly but it was a non-issue – we had time to relax after our long drive. 

While D unpacked the car all by himself (poor boy) an intensive language class followed (T on the receiving end this time) with T & L & S chatting about where the water comes from (rivers seem dry like central Oz) but there is plenty of local water, one dam supplying for domestic/urban & another for agriculture including the avocado orchard that they manage. One tree supplies their household & other young trees have been established by grafting from this. T asked about fresh herbs and the absence of them in markets & supermarkets. Lucia pointed out the fresh mint planted beside the driveway.

D has investigated where to assess the condition of rear passenger tyre injured in a too-sharp turn when leaving Guadix this morning, so presume that is first task tomorrow. (Confirmed). Sebastian has given a big tick to the local tyre place. But this situation is Italy redux, where the replacement of an injured tyre became a saga over about a week. We can only hope.

Aldi & an escalator(!) took us to essential re-supply of real milk. Tapas on the mirador, with seaview and a glass of something refreshing is hard to take!

Dinner. Chicken Surprise with mash (and some greens, no doubt).

Day 25. Tuesday 1 April.

Initial plan was to head into the Parque National y Natural de Sierra Nevada but were a bit spooked by the snow covered mountains on a cloudy (is it misty?) morning, so opted to head to Almeria on the coast instead, about 100 km (more if you take into account our wrestling with GPS instructions). Landscape changed from almond orchards to arid, orange hills & canyons as we came down from the plateau to coast level. 

Took a real plunge and entered an underground car park in central Almeria, wondering if there was some sort of different process. No, just like home: get a ticket, pay, get out. And there were lots of spaces!

Walked from port area, through old town until we found a coffee shop that appealed: again coffee good, but pastries not so. And 20 metres further on, a little patisserie that had very appealing offerings. Of course. Central Almeria: upmarket shopping streets.

Started a search for a charity shop, and struggled a bit with the map, (back, forward, left back, right, back) but lo and behold – there it was. Shut. But as we dejectedly trudged away T spotted a rather large second hand clothing store so spent several hours (according to D…but really it was half an hour) looking at rack after rack of ‘crushed seconds’ and then coming away with nothing….fabrics don’t appeal, being all synthetics, but interesting to browse.

Wandered back to port & came across the Alcazaba, the huge Moorish fortress overlooking the city, another amazing construction & below a vast newish Mediterranean terraced garden.  The fortress has obviously had a very serious makeover.

How about a waterfront  picnic?… but in  passing a little restaurant, T spotted some customers with grilled octopus. However, that choice or calamari wasn’t available for some reason, possibly related to it being well after 3 PM and closing time was imminent, but did have grilled fish (no chips!) with a couple of non-alcoholic beers.

Then a walk onto the beach – very Gold Coast but with coarse grey sand, no wave action & stiff breeze. (Almeria, with an airport, attracts many  Brits escaping for winter).

So home again to plan the Easter break & remove any stress around being ‘homeless’. Successful – we  have accommodation booked outside Tavira on the Algarve coastline in Portugal. Tavira hosts traditional Easter rituals but (we hope) without the crowds. We now have a roof somewhere until 21 April.

Dinner. Chicken stew…T has been surprised at the absence of fresh herbs, especially the daily chili, coriander & parsley…we now have a supply of dried & tonight’s pot has definitely got a fiery taste!

Day 24. Monday 31 March.

First thing, around 1000, drove into town to get D’s prescription sunglasses fixed (a lens had popped out). After a bit of shopping, two very good espressos and two not so good pastries, dropped into the Tourist Information. Spent some time with a very helpful lady who had very good English – she provided lots of advice, and chuckles – and explained the religious procession from yesterday. In the weeks leading up to Easter (or rather Palm Sunday), huge statues & floats are carried to key locations. What we saw yesterday would have been one such. She also described the processions that happen daily thru’ Semana Santa, starting Friday 11 April – Resurrection on 20 April & that the tradition is very strong in the south (Castille & Andalucia).

What’s a day touring without visiting a castle and a church? No castles here (well, maybe a little one), but an impressive cathedral and bell tower. Note the repair van parked at church steps

Marveled at the cathedral first, especially the sculpture of Mary holding a crucified Jesus, a copy of Michelangelo’s original (no, not David), which is preserved in St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. Every thirty minutes there is a 5 minute light display over the statue – also impressive.

Then it was the ascent of the bell tower: 154 narrow spiral steps up….and the same number down. A good aerobic work out. Great 360 degrees views over town, farmland and mesas stretching to the sierras. Very glad that the bells only ring for the Angelus at 1200.

And then, a visit to Aldi for some more supplies, mostly essential. T searching for Twinings tea…fail) with David racing to the checkout with a bottle of something that looks like Uisce beatha (staff waiting, rather breathless).

Going native, we retired to our cueva for siesta time, but instead of sitting around drinking beer or wine we started trying to put together a plan for the next few weeks – which cover Easter. That starts in earnest here on 11 April, so we don’t have much time. Managed to book a place at Ronda for four nights, but hit a brick wall west of there (Cadiz is very serious about Easter, hence so is accommodation). The research goes on.

Late afternoon, around beer time, T suggested a drive to check out the local scenery/geography/agriculture, so off we went. Our first primary destination was a bit of a fizz – just a suburb essentially, but we ventured on. We then drove through a range of landscapes: flat agriculture land, almond plantations  (on the high mesa)….then dropped down the plateau into a deep valley, pink & yellow desert canyons & cliffs before heading up again to view the same magnificent natural sculptures. Drove into Goroffe, a little village, that seemed to be the stop point for quite a lot of very tired cyclists we had passed in the last few kilometers. We had a couple of deep envy moments as we passed solo campervans that had secured spots overlooking the valleys, away from all civilization.  Views were again spectacular.

Dinner: Baked (if we can get the portable wall oven to work) or poached (if stovetop) trout with steamed vegies.

Tomorrow to the Sierra Nevada. So off to sleep very soon, under strict supervision.