For any of you who have done overseas travel, you know the deal. There’s is too much to do in too little time before you leave, and that is without the five lost hours, thanks to Verizon Wireless (see previous blog link above).

Amazingly, even with those five lost hours, I manage to be ready for our trip overseas to run our three European photo workshops, Andalucia & the Alhambra, being the first one. Our friend picks us up, and we tootle off to the airport. MooseCat is anticipating the arrival of his favorite house-sitter. He’ll cadge another meal and some extra treats, I well suspect. He’s such a food slut!

We actually get to use some frequent-flyer mileage without booking over a year in advance. I’m not sure how it happened, but we were lucky. First class, which means we can actually sleep lying down for all of those three-plus hours, but what a blissful few hours those are. No kinked-up necks, no swollen feet, no achy back. Kitchen by Charlie Trotter in Chicago whom Arnie used to photograph. Four-time Oscar winning movie of The King’s Speech

We land in Rome, and customs is so much easier than last year. We don’t have to fill out those pesky immigration forms. We breeze through, get our bags, then wait … and wait … and wait. We cannot check our bags for the flight to Malaga until two hours before departure. Arnie and I take turns cat-napping. I prop my feet up on my layered bags, both for security and to keep the feet happy.

Finally, the four hours pass, and we check the bags, then use one of those lounge facilities. Some water, some juice, a biscuit or two, and I curl up on a comfy sofa and nap some more.

More napping on the journey across the Mediterranean to Malaga, in the very south of Spain. Everything goes without a hitch.

We get our car, a diesel, because it gets so much better mileage, and find that the key doesn’t work. Arnie is dead tired, so he watches our bags while I scoot back inside to rectify the situation. Nice José at Mr. Avis comes out, and sure enough, the battery on the brand-new car is deader’n a doornail. He has other keys with him, just in case, and right next to us is another car, a VW which is even better. Everything works until I shift into 1st and try to go forward. Clearly, the parking break is on, and neither Arnie nor I, both savvy car types, can figure out how to release it. I dash back inside, and Mr. Avis helps us again. It was easy, and we head out, Gertrude (our GPS) finally having acquired a satellite signal.

We head to our base in Ronda, a lovely and ancient pueblo blanco (white hill town). Instead of taking the faster and more-direct route, Gertrude (she can be such a ninny) guides us through the shorter route, a series of narrow, windy roads fraught with switch-backs that carry treble-stacked >>> signs. I have what serves as a pilot car in front. This is good, because when a car comes in the other direction, both cars must slow down, leaving us in a safer and more secure position.

The route is beautiful and dramatic, but I cannot sightsee much. I am too busy cranking the steering wheel this way and that to navigate the sharp corners. We come across some wonderful scenes of shepherds with their flocks of goats and sheep, but we are too tired and brain-dead to stop to get out our cameras. Besides, there are no safe places to stop! We also see a horseman on one of the famous Andalucian steeds. Elegant! Fiery! Magnificent!

We knew our regular hotel is booked with a group, but they have arranged for us to stay nearby at Molino del Puente, just down the hill from Ronda on the north side. It is, as I suspect, charming, ancient, and wonderful. We immediately head for the garden terrace for some cava, that wonderful, light-but-complex bubbly that is so refreshing. Later, we switch to Temprenillo (Spanish Cabernet Sauvignon) to go with our FOOD! Our hostess doesn’t worry about checking us in until after dinner.

Arnie has the Sea Bass and says it is superb. I taste it, and yes, it is most flavorful and delicate. I choose the pollo stuffed with a herb butter and encrusted on the outside. Again, a spectacular dish. Arnie agrees.

We dally over dinner, stroke the resident cats when they slide by, talk about photography and how lucky we have been in our professional lives, It is an excellent start to our time in southern Spain. Andalucia (AHN-dah-loo-THEE-a) has welcomed us back in fine style. We can’t wait until tomorrow when we do some final scouting and check out a couple of new-to-us favorites of our hosts. We have also arrange for another person to check into an elder gentleman who raises the classic Analucian horses. Might make a terrific photo op. I hope so, since I use to have horses.

As always, it is an adventure, and we would not have it any other way. Our crew arrives on Sunday and Monday, and we look forward to sharing with them this part of Spain we love so well.

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