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Granada & The Alhambra
It’s on the Wednesday morning in Granada that it happens, proper confirmation that I am old. Here I am, fresh from walking the Caminito del Rey, sporting a T-shirt from my travels, boarding a shuttle bus from city centre to the Alhambra and feeling full of the joie de vivre which travelling the world brings, when some guy stands up to offer me his seat. This is the first time anywhere in the world that this has happened to me. I must look so old now that it’s obligatory for someone to offer me their seat. I am suddenly and undeniably an old git. Inside I’m cursing him and wanting…
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Nerja, Frigiliana & The Caminita del Rey
On January 12th 1959, five male students failed to report for lessons at a local school in Nerja, not in itself an earth shattering event – indeed the tutor, one Carlos Saura Garre, assumed they had either met some girls or had decided that a movie would be more entertaining than a lecture. Neither of these was the case: the boys had in fact plucked up courage to go through a small entrance to a sinkhole and head underground to see what they might discover. What they did discover must have blown their young minds. Beneath the waste land just behind the village of Maro, they walked into a gigantic…
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From Mojácar To Nerja Via The Wild West
With about three hours of the Mediterranean Highway ahead of us we take a detour away from the straight road, out through the sleepy towns of Sorbas and Tabernas and on into the rocky barren country inland. This is the closest thing in western Europe to a genuine desert, but this is spectacular and rugged mountain desert rather than the flat sands of the Sahara, for instance. It’s big country. As we mentioned in our last post, this is where the movie “A Fistful Of Dollars” was mostly filmed, together with a whole host of other so-called spaghetti Westerns, which just leads you to wonder why we don’t know them…
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On To Mojácar: Pink Lakes, Red Prawns & Silver Moonlight
More often than not, when you visit something with a name like “the blue forest” or “the purple mountains”, they’re not really blue or purple, are they. OK so there may be a hint of the colour which gives the place its moniker, but you would never call it vivid. Until, that is, you visit the Lugano Rosa, the “pink lake”, just outside the town of Torrevieja, which is properly, undeniably pink. It’s rental car time again as we look to fully explore the next section of Spanish coastline and head down into Andalucia, driving south from Alicante and taking a detour specifically to see whether this lake really is…
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Glimpses Of Life In Happy Town
Antonio is not having a good day, despite his smile. “Today is not a good day. Already I have a broken ankle, and now the printer doesn’t work”, he explains, as I try to work out what the connection between the two events might be. Despite these things, Antonio quickly warms to the task of telling us about his town, becoming even more animated when we ask about restaurants. He grabs his pen and starts to draw circles and arrows on our town map. “These restaurants in this road are very touristy”, he says, rather dismissively, “except this one” – he jots down the name – “and this one at…
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Crowded Beaches And An Antipope: Heading Further South
The morning temperature as we leave Tarragona seems to have ramped up, all is still and the Med is a flat calm mirror of the sky, sunlight sequins glinting across its surface. Tranquility now reigns where yesterday the fiesta brought verve, the only ones buzzing with activity now are the army of street cleaners removing the final evidence of revelry. It’s even hotter as we step off the train further south, and the trudge with backpacks up the steep hills and steps to our next accommodation is a bit of a tester – we are both pouring with sweat by the time we finally open the door to our new…
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Tarragona: Heart And Soul Of Catalunya
It is with an absolute, unbridled delight that I discover that nothing much has changed. Plaça de la Font is absolutely alive, almost every table at every restaurant taken, a stage set up in front of the grand Town Hall in readiness for tonight’s show of traditional dancing, the atmospheric square packed with families where small children, teenagers and grandparents mix as if socialising with all ages is the most natural thing on Earth. It’s gone 11pm and the children still have boundless energy as they ride stabilised bikes, burst balloons and indulge in games of chase. This is Tarragona, a place I have visited many, many times before and…
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Santo Domingo de la Calzada: Not The Jewel In The Crown
Leaving Haro behind on a Saturday morning, we head not in the direction of our next stay but instead the opposite way, in order to enjoy one last visit to the village of Laguardia. Like Sajazarra, Laguardia is on the official “bonitos” list of the prettiest villages in Spain, and if anywhere deserves such an accreditation it’s this perfect little place nestled on its hill. It really is lovely. Our next move is not a huge one as we stay within La Rioja region, now in a different location from which to explore the other half of the province. Santo Domingo de la Calzada is a significant point on the…
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Vinos, Caminos & Pintxos: The Small Town Of Haro
Much of the drive from Zaragoza is through nondescript territory, interior Spain at its flattest and most arid with the occasional industrial complex or giant warehouse thrown in for good measure. Then with almost comical precision the vineyards begin at the very moment we pass the “La Rioja” provincial sign and pretty soon we are looking out at picturesque hilltop villages crowned by a soaring church spire and/or the turrets of a castle. This is exactly the scenery we have come here to explore. Ignoring the temptation to dive into other villages too soon, we head straight to our next destination of Haro, arriving too early to check in to…
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A-Z In A Day: From Andorra to Zaragoza
There’s a proper mountain air feel to our last morning in Andorra La Vella, bright blue skies but crisp air, locals hunched in jackets and jeans as they make their way through town. From the window at breakfast it has the look of a Spring morning in the Alps and it’s odd to think that at the other end of our relatively short journey today temperature may be well into the 30s. It’s a couple of hours on the bus from Andorra to Lleida followed by an extraordinarily comfortable, and fast, train ride to Zaragoza. Sporting our backpacks and wearing our heavy hiking shoes, we suppose the taxi driver’s question…
