Day 34. Saturday 12 April.

A very slow start to the day – it had rained during the night & by the attire of those in the square, the day was cool & damp. But after a very late breakfast, washing & coffee, some sun broke through and a shopping trip to Aldi happened. Aldi was preferred choice as we knew parking would be easy and they play the best music…old Beatles, Peter Seeger (or someone doing his Turn, Turn, Turn)….Bruce Springsteen. The shopping involved a car ride through what is a popular tourist area: they were thronging, all over the road, everywhere, tour leaders with flags… It was a bit quieter on the way back, as siesta time had started early.

D strung up a clothes line in the parking courtyard, hoping for some later sun to dry those things that can’t go into the dryer. Wasn’t needed (as some hangers were found) so down it came.

Took a walk mid-afternoon along the lower paths. Ronda sits on a hilltop/ cliffs, with no access for an approaching enemy & climbed plenty of steps & vertical streets.

Came to the Banos Arabes, (13th century) and after a conversation with the very helpful attendant (who had the added bonus of understanding D’s dad jokes, but didn’t overdo the laughter) bought a Municipal Ticket that gave us access to a number of other attractions we’ll do on Monday. The baths were introduced by a very comprehensive video in English. A water wheel with ceramic jugs had brought water from the river below, driven by a poor donkey (going round and round, with no hope of promotion), which then travelled by aqueduct into the boiler to provide hot & warm rooms for bathing, socializing, and communicating.  With the mosque next door, residents were outwardly & inwardly cleansed. The baths were just outside the official entrance to the city.

Continued our walk up, up, up, arriving near the Puento Nuevo and decided that it was tapas or some other sustenance time.

We were both ‘starvy’ so headed for our local bar – for our first tapas. Started with anchovies in vinegar, decided to have something more, to find the kitchen had shut so could only choose from the cold selection. We had more anchovies. Interestingly, each glass of wine, reasonably priced by Oz standards, cost about the same as we’d been paying for a bottle. No complaint.

We adjourned to the up market establishment right next door for dinner, where the cook promised a New York rissole with a leek/tomato sauce & steamed vegies. The front door was opened during cooking, despite the cook’s concern that passersby might stick their heads in & ask for the dish of the dia but none did! Across the street was a group of ladies enjoying the sunshine, a shared bottle of wine and a meal from next door, but they weren’t tempted by no. 30 either.

Dinner. We enjoyed the New York rissoles with a tomato and leek salsa (couldn’t get a solo onion in Aldi), steamed vegies, followed by some local sweet treats.

Tomorrow (Palm Sunday) will be D’s birthday excursion….the Caminito del Rey (canyon hike) unless weather/re-think prevail

Day 34. Friday 11 April.

It would be a challenge getting out of the apartment, even with our new food trolley, but heh! Good cuisine doesn’t happen easily. Maybe we didn’t have the right registration to drive the stair lifter! Had to back out of that. Packed and out of the apartment by 0930.

But not quite on the road: once again number plate recognition didn’t work, but this time there was an attendant who let us out.

We aimed for the non-tourist town Antequera for our first stop, and coffee. Found parking on the street a short walk from cuidad centro and strolled down past Aldi – but T couldn’t make it past a fabric shop. A little while later we reunited and had coffee at Cafe Argentina where there was a lovely conversation in (very good) English with a young woman, from Argentina, who is staying here with relatives and studying languages. She wants to visit Australia but is not sure about all the dangerous animals.

More strolling and into a Mercadona (a large grocery/supermarket chain) because D had earlier sighted a great fish segment, which was enough to overcome T’s edict of ‘NO shopping’. And the fish ladies were on fire, calling the specials just like ‘Con the fruiterer’.

Back on the road, with Doris taking us quite well on the preferred back roads route.The fields were agriculture: grains/olives/orchards & the A road quite busy, mostly in the other direction.  Arrived in Ronda, an Islamic fortress town subsequently turned Catholic with the conquest by Castille in 1485, but couldn’t identify exactly where we were staying or where our parking might be. Propped in a large public parking below the town walls area while D did  a recce  on foot and spoke to the owner – it’s challenging when there’s no common language;  eventually getting in but unable to operate the mechanical gate to the parking spot: photo sent by owner wouldn’t open…..in due course new photo arrived in different application, gate opened, car just squeezed in and we unpacked

This might be an interesting stay: we are in an old house, walls abutting two restaurants/tapas bars! And overlooking a plaza where families are drinking/chatting, kids playing in playground & cars cruising by right under the window. But T has identified a back bedroom on second floor if needed.

Walked up the hill behind us in the early evening, coming across a sign, for the Vía Serrana, a 240 km Camino de Santiago route beginning in La Línea (the Spanish town adjacent to Gibraltar) and ending in Sevilla.

Through the walled town entrance & up the cobblestones to the Sanctuario de Maria Auxilidora and stayed for the start of a penitential communion session, about 30 in congregation, mainly our age group or older.

Across the square at the Collegiata Santa Maria la Mayor, we learnt there was to be some music – religious of course – later this evening.The program of music had been happening as a sacred music festival through March (20th year of this festival) and Friday’s offering was the final.  Easter celebrations have started & they’ll get bigger.

So we did go up the hill for a 2030  ‘concert’ (the woman on the church counter this afternoon had no information about the music beyond it being ‘sacred music’ – and starting at 8)… to discover that it was a full-on Mass for Mary. Complete with procession, costumes, candles, gold, and so much incense! And a sermon in Spanish (D said later he understood about as much as some of the WVUC ones), Communion, more incense…And the focus on Mary is everywhere, the posters in every shop window, on walls, the monstrances, the altars… this has surprised us.

But the choir was marvellous: about 30 young folk & they did all the glorious pieces (Ave Verum, Panis Angelicus, Pie Jesu, Agnus Dei, Ave Maria)….T was transported. The rituals have actually got under T’s skin, especially as she is simultaneously reading Niall Williams’ ‘Time of the Child’. We recalled the words of the coffee girl from this morning about Semana Santa: ‘I love all the processions, the religious art & music; I go to all of it’.

Dinner. Baked fish (not sure what: looks a bit like barramundi, but not as sweet tasting), with baked spuds, sweet potato and steamed asparagus from the street vendor.

Day 33. Thursday 10 April.

It was a slow start, with legs not so bad after yesterday’s workout. Caught up with some essential housework, learning some new skills, which included not dropping pegs or clothing, and not falling from the 7th floor window.

Eventually we ventured out to visit Albaicín, which is situated just beneath the Alhambra, and is the oldest neighborhood of Granada.   Googled public transport and were able to catch a big bus from just near our apartment into the area. Wandered the cobblestones & tourist/souvenir shops for a while then caught a little bus – smaller local units (about twenty people, although our bus was often more!) that travelled to the Alhambra and back. We stayed on, just to do the full circuit, noting where we might alight at the next go-around and for 1.60 euro each, was a good ‘tour’. Ended up more or less where we’d started – and being in Spain had Argentinian empanadas for lunch (chorizo for D, spinach for T and an artichoke and shiitake mushrooms to share). 

A short break at the apartment then, having sorted out public transport, we bussed to the theatre – a main line bus, then a little bus again, all on one ticket. Worked beautifully.

The oranges…they are everywhere & fruit just beyond reach…Veronika had explained that they are ornamental really & very bitter (T had tried one last week) & are maintained by councils, mostly for perfume of blossoms & aesthetics. T dreamt of marmalade, but so much sugar would be needed.

We met June, who had been so helpful yesterday in sorting out our booking mix up, thanked her profusely, and were shown to our front row table and seats – starting with the inclusive drink.

The show started, and it was one hour of utter enjoyment, and admiration at the physicality, emotion, dress and grooming of the performers. Two women and one man danced, supported by a guitarist, who also did a solo, and two chanters. Whatever the storyline was, it had drama, passion, joy, despair… and didn’t they sweat it!

Walked home in a balmy evening, marveling at the number of folk out & about (and some probably on their way home) with a relaxed, safe feeling. T had remarked earlier on the absence of any loud or offensive behaviour – that has been the case right from the start. And dogs are a constant feature, (often announcing themselves in undesirable ways). And a little reminder of the real (unreal?) world out there.

Fish bar that Miguel had recommended (free tapas if you buy a drink!) was closed so, ‘we’ve got enough in the fridge’, said T… & so we had! Tapas at home, where we also had enough wine.

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.