It is good to be back in Andalucia, that part of southern Spain that boasts lovely white villages, towns, and cities that drip down steep hillsides.
Arnie and I want to explore a different part of the area than we had last year, one that will produce more mountain vistas. Elaine, our gracious hostess at Molino del Puente outside Ronda’s city limits has all sorts of suggestions. She and her husband moved to southern Spain from the UK some 20 years ago, eventually moving to Ronda and renovating a run-down farm into a charming hotel/inn. When we found our regular hotel was booked for the first couple of nights we’d be here, we were immediately directed to Molino del Puente.
Because we sleep in after our long, overseas travel, the light is pretty harsh by the time we have breakfast. Still, one can always photograph. Both Arnie and I are attracted to the simplicity of one of the sets of stairs, as seen above, with the natural-fill light from the opposite wall where the sun was blazing.
We decide to start with the route of the chestnuts, ziggle-zagging our way through the switch-backs down steep mountain terrain to a village here, then back up and down the next road to the next village. It is beautiful, and the Chestnut trees are in blossom. Streams run clear, and old gentlemen nod to us as they walk, hands typically clasped behind their backs.
Because the sun is so strong, I find I am looking at patterns. There were the steps at the hotel, then this roof line that catches my eye. It is ancient and full of bulges and fluted lines. I love it.
Puttering about the village, we walk through the twisty maze of streets and lanes that are so typical of this region. Children scamper ahead of us. Old men wave a hand a say, “Hola.” We nod and respond in kind.
We look for a good village view. The light is wrong here. Too many obstructing Chestnut trees there.
Some new buildings are painted a garrish blue, we hope only temporarily, perhaps some sort of binder for the white stucco that hopefully will be applied.
I am navigating several switchbacks, reminding Arnie to check for scenery that I cannot really see at the moment.
“Stop.” Arnie says. There’s a great village view. I pull onto the gravel overlook.
Arnie is nervous, since it looks as though there is a steep abyss beyond. Fortunately, it is only a steep embankment.
We grab our tripods, as the wind is blowing hard. I find patterns in the church and white buildings with their tile roofs.
The mountains are lovely, and I do a panorama that I shall process later. I’ve been wanting to do one, but this is the first vista that presented itself.
We traverse the mountainsides, marveling at the scenery. One way, there are the raw Sierra, devoid of trees. The light is still too harsh on them to photograph, because they are a gray that turns nearly white during most of the day.
In the other direction the lush forests carpet the rolling terrain, fading into blue in the distance.
It is a glorious day. Some puffy clouds and some wispy ones drift across the sky. The temperature is not too hot, although we still prefer walking in the shade. The mountain winds keep us quite comfortable.
Once out at the main road on the other side, we turn away from Ronda to explore another valley by the Rio Genal (HEH-nal). We explore a couple that do not quite suit us. It’s not that they are bad, simply that we have seen ones we like better.
We find another that we really like. We park the car at the top of the village. Most of these little hamlets have roads that narrow down to lanes and provide little turn-around space.
In one, earlier in the day, we pulled in the mirrors to make sure we could get through one tight spot. Besides, here in the mountains, everyone walks. Cars are used for work. After all, petrol is expensive, and walking is healthy.
Still looking for angles, I find a chimney I like. There is rhythm to the small scene I create. It pleases me. The sky above it is almost azure, contrasting nicely with the orangey-red of the tiles. Those complementary colors again.
It is time to head back to the hotel for a BBQ dinner that our host, Ian, is preparing. A nice bottle of house Temprenillo, some succulent BBQ, and we are all set.
We are content; it has been a good day.
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