Kellie and Brit arrive in Spain.

The fourth of July in Spain is not quite the same experience as it is the US….however because there were several American students, our Spanish school decided that we should try to have a regular 4^th of July Barbeque.  An apartment complex with a swimming pool and an outdoor grill was secured and then they asked if we Americans would do the cooking.  Of course, we will!

After being told that the Spanish staff would probably not eat much in the way of hamburgers it was decided to include some chicken skewers, marinated the way they would like them.  We kept things very basic, cheese burgers, hot dogs, chips and the regular array of condiments including fresh lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions, mustard and ketchup.  As a nod to healthy lifestyle choices we added a big bowl of fresh cut fruit.  We tried for homemade lemonade but as nobody really wanted to bother making it, soda and beer, lots of beer were substituted with no complaints.

The day was hot and sunny, all you could ask for on the 4^th of July.  We had asked the staff to purchase 4 kilos of ground beef.  In Spain they use a combination of ground pork and beef (called “carne”) for most things including their version of hamburgers but we were insistent on 100% beef.   The staff decided that since not everyone would eat burgers, and beef is expensive they would just get 3 kilos.   We scrambled after classes were over for the day to get everything prepped and fired up the grill, which is of course not anything at all like a grill back in the states, more like an unused fireplace, but worked well enough with plenty of time and care.

We ended up with about 35 folks to feed over the course of the evening and everyone, Spanish folks included, did eat burgers in fact, some more than one as soon as they found out how truly great all beef American style burgers are!  It was loads of fun with American music playing and everyone enjoying the beautiful evening, we ran out of food, which is always a great outcome.

The following weekend was our most anticipated weekend of the summer.  Kellie, our youngest daughter and her best friend of many years Brittani were coming to Granada to take the TEFL course, and, if they could find jobs, to stay and teach for a year.  I went to the bus station in the hopes of catching them as they arrived in Granada from Madrid.  They had spent a week in London seeing the sights, then flew on to Madrid and then taken the bus to Granada.  Of course, I missed them at the station, still not sure how, but definitely missed them.

They found their way to the residencia while I walked back up the hill and met Mike at Puerta de las Pesas.  We had a drink and chatted with Fernando and Jose for a bit but I was so anxious to see the kids and worried that they had missed the bus, etc., etc., etc. (Mommy worries, but in my defense I knew they did not have cell phones that would work in Spain) that I just could not wait.  Mike and I walked over to the residencia and I was delighted and relieved to find them there. 

  Another one of those learning moments when you realize that your youngest child, traveling in a foreign country for the first time, where she doesn’t speak a word of the language, gets along just fine without her mother. 

The girls looked great and had wonderful stories to tell about the sights of London.  We took them back up to the restaurant to meet the family there and had a lovely evening catching up and talking about the TEFL course that was to begin for them the next day.  The girls headed in early so they could be ready in the morning and we spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about the other life we had lived in the states with both our girls close to home and seeing them all the time.  

Interestingly enough we found ourselves not missing the states and the time we had there but rather wishing that all of our friends and family could share this new life we are living now.   We knew that being able to share at least a portion of it with Kellie and Brit was going to be a fabulous and probably unique opportunity.  We were beginning to love Spain and had made some wonderful friends but we also know that Spain is not the only stop on this journey we have chosen.

The white villages of Andalucia

In Andalucia there is an area known as the Ruta de Pueblos Blancos and many of these pueblos formed the outer garrisons of the Moorish empire based in Granada.  This area is north of the coast, east of Cadiz, south of the Sevilla, Cordoba, Granada corridor and bordered on the west by the Alpujarras.  There is autobus and train service but because most of the pueblos are small and the terrain tortuous it is best, in general, to visit this area by driving a car.

 Perhaps the most famous of the pueblos is Ronda.  This pueblo dates back to Roman times and has the bridges to prove it.  Ronda is split by a deep gorge which formed part of the pueblo’s defenses and which is bridged in three places, the largest being the spectacular “new bridge”.  Ronda has the oldest bull-fighting ring in Spain and is a fascinating place to visit.

 Parking can be a problem in Ronda but we found room in a lot just off the main plaza near the “old gate” to the city.  During our first afternoon in Ronda we wandered down to the old gate and discovered the absolutely fabulous De Locos Tapas café/restaurant.   De Locos Tapas is run by a trained chef and is a must visit location in Ronda.  There were three of us and we ordered tapas three at a time from the menu which we then shared with a bottle of wine.  The tapas were so delectable that we ordered another three; then another three.

We had decided not to stay in town and had found the wonderful, rustic Hotel Molino de los Arcos about nine kilometers outside of Ronda.  The road to the hotel became smaller and smaller until it was a one lane dirt path where you had to pull over into the weeds to let another car pass.  On the way to this hotel we were fascinated to see the Joaquin Fernandez Bodega entrance and began to discuss a possible visit while we were there.

 The hotel was beautiful with large rooms, a public area with self-serve bar, lovely gardens and it even had a swimming pool.  The people at the hotel were friendly and helpful and we discovered that the bar was an “honor bar” pour what you want and write it on the list.  After a night cap we turned in for the night.

The next day we hit the road with the intention to visit a few pueblos in the southern portion of the route.  Our first intended stop was Grazelema.  Here I must interject that the roads are very, very narrow and winding.  Every curve is a potential head on collision and the driving is tortuous and we thank the intrepid Diana, our traveling companion for doing the dirty work of driving, not to mention finding the lovely hotel. 

After about an hour of driving during which we passengers became borderline motion sick, we arrived at the small pueblo of Grazelema which is perched on the side of a mountain.  We parked and walked along the ancient fortification ruins and found our way into the small main square where we sat down at a café and enjoyed a coffee (or beer I don’t remember).

We then spent an hour wandering through the streets of this small pueblo finding some interesting shops especially woolen products.  As it turns out, Grazelema is famous for its quality wool products and we saw everything from blankets and panchos to women’s business suits all produced locally.  By now it was late morning and we had big plans for the day.

Back in the car and off to the next stop, Ubrique.  This is a significantly larger pueblo located in a small valley high in the mountains.  About fifty thousand people live in Ubrique which is known for its leather products and many famous people reportedly purchase their leather goods there. 

The pueblo itself seems to funnel down to the main road from both sides giving this road almost a feeling of a large drainage channel.  It was a Saturday and we had made the mistake of arriving at lunch time (comida).  Seemingly the entire community was out in the cafes lining the main pedestrian street from one end to another and we had difficulty finding a table.

I must explain a couple points here.  First, the main pedestrian street in Ubrique has probably about a mile of solid cafes, bars, ice-cream shops, etc. all of which have tables, chairs and umbrellas set out in front of their particular establishment.  This street is about 30 yards wide so you can imagine just how many tables, chairs and umbrellas we’re talking about.  Second, remember it is a Saturday and we were in Spain.  It is very Spanish to remain at the table after finishing the meal, drinking or nursing your beer, coffee or wine and talking with your table companions; sometimes for hours.

After finally obtaining a quick lunch we went searching for leather and were disappointed to find that many of the small shops and the artisan’s market were not open on weekends.  The only leather goods available that day was located in the one or two large, expensive department stores.  Frustrated, tired and not altogether happy with our experience in Ubrique we decided to head back to the hotel for a nap and a swim.  We figured we could head out to one more pueblo in the evening if we felt revived.

As we passed the Bodega on the way to the hotel, we decided to see if we could get in to do a tasting instead of trying to drive all the way to another pueblo that evening.  The hotel staff arranged the last tasting of the day for us to begin a 7pm with an English speaking guide.  After a slash in the pool and relaxing hour on loungers we heard the most interesting sound of small bells.  We had no idea what they were until the sound got very close and we climbed up to look over the wall and found an entire heard of sheep, complete with staff bearing shepherd and dogs, being driven from their lower pasture right past the hotel and on to their upper pasture high on the hills above.  Spain!

That evening we hopped in the car for the 400 yard drive to the Joaquin Fernandez Bodega and our wine tasting appointment.  We were met by a friendly gentleman who spoke English and who explained that the bodega produced only organic wine and had been in his family for about 15 years (he was the oldest son).  We were given an extensive tour and he told us quite a bit about the types of grapes grown, the production output of the bodega and, most importantly, the types of wine produced by the bodega.

There was a beautiful spread of salami, cheese and bread set on an outdoor table with a fabulous view across the valley to Ronda and a row of six wine glasses for each of us.  We spent the next hour sampling various wines including a white wine made from cabernet grapes and an award winning granache.  All three of us were impressed enough to purchase several bottles and we happily, and perhaps tipsily made our way back to the hotel where we collapsed in exhaustion.

After sleeping in the next morning we checked out and headed into Ronda where we grabbed some coffee and tostadas for breakfast.  We peeked into the bull ring but chose not to pay the entrance fee and take the tour preferring to take the long hike to the bottom of the gorge and take pictures of the extraordinary “new bridge”. 

Hiking back to the top Diana suggested that we have lunch in one of the restaurants lining the edge of the gorge and while the meal was expensive it was delectable and the location very unique.

In the early afternoon we hiked down the opposite side of the “new bridge” in order to see the two older bridges, one dating to Roman times. 

The ruins of the Arabic baths are on this side and while it appears impossible, we found a way to climb up the city’s formidable exterior walls finding ourselves back inside the pueblo near the main square where we had parked the car.

A restaurant in the main plaza featured hamburguesas so we stopped for a quick meal prior to driving back home to Granada.  After the 2 and ½ hour return drive we arrived tired but happy back in Granada where we discovered that a cab to the top of the  Albaicin split three ways cost the same as bus fare to the far more inconvenient (for us) Plaza Nueva.  A quick walk into the Sacramonte and we were home again.