THIS IS JOURNAL FROM THURSDAY -- I lost internet for 14 hours -- so two posts today (Friday)
I woke up slowly this morning in Algodonales and felt deliciously
lazy. The sun rises later here in the
mountain province of Cadiz since I left Andalusia, so sunshine didn’t snap me
awake. It was quiet. No roosters crowing outside my window. Only one dog barking far away. No bell gonging from a bell tower. After I pulled myself out of this gorgeous
bed, I made coffee and warmed my hands around the ceramic cup and sat on a chair
to actually make time to enjoy the silence.
I watched birds flying around the patio near the orange trees that lean
over the white wall near my window. An
asparagus fern fronds blew ever so slowly in the breeze. And me?
I am sitting right in the middle of peace and simplicity in this place,
this time. I am finding all the little
corners of my mind that have been up and down the last few months. No rush today. The feeling is so beautiful that I know I’m
experiencing a gentle make-over. I want
to slow down so I can enjoy the simple joys of living when I return home again.
An epiphany? Possibly.
Since the main event today is talking with the flamenco guitar
people on Calle Ubrique, I was ready with a map, my questions and
camera. No worries about getting lost
today. Slow but sure, I showered and
realized I would really be very relaxed today:
no hair dryer, so going natural without mousse in my hair was kind of a
nice idea. By now the sun was out and my
hair would dry during my walk, no fluffs, no problem.
Ready to roll again...down the stairs.
Algodonales is such a charming, white town nestled in the shade
of the Sierra de Líjar mountains. Its
streets are lined with orange and lemon trees and tinkle to the murmur of its
twelve fountains (tourist site words). Going forth into the village was now
more natural for me, I walked with confidence and was delighted that every
single person I passed responded or initiated, “hola” or “buenas días.” I passed houses with tiled porches, ornate
wooden doors, metal doors with key holes and a large round knob, grilled windows
and ornately-framed windows. I passed a
farmer’s market where women wheeled their baskets, clearly on a mission. Oranges, lemons, bananas, green vegetables,
peppers, corn. An abundance of
vegetables and fruits covered several tables.
And shoes. I certainly didn’t
need any of them even though the silver sparkly slip on tennis shoes caught my
eye. Nope. Didn’t buy any.
When I got closer to the flamenco shop, I stopped and
stared. There was a man meticulously
fitting rocks into a wall in front of his house. His wife was busily stirring up the cement in
a wheel barrow. They were both laughing
with the joys of camaraderie. I loved
it.
When I saw the flamenco guitar shop, I was very relieved. I snapped a photo from across the street and
then slipped into the doorway. To my dismay,
there was a CERRIDO sign on the door (closed).
What? The hours were 10:30-1:30
and it was 11:45. I know time is “stretchy” in Spain, but this was not good at
all. Today was the day! Big sigh.
I took photos and rearranged my leaving inside my mind so that just
maybe I could go back tomorrow (Friday).
I would just catch a later bus…if there was a later bus back to Ronda.
Since lunch (almuerzo) is served at 2:00 here in Spain, I decided
to explore the village that has become like a little haven to me. I have never felt so safe in Spain except in
Los Nuñez with Lyn and family. Here,
though, I am alone and it is comfortable, easy, quiet, quaint and safe. It sort of feels like home. Up and down (literally) the streets I
went.
I saw white houses, brass key locks, door knockers shaped like a
hand and stone walls and walkways in front of or surrounding these tidy
houses. One thing I especially noticed
was many houses have two doors. One at
the street and a little foyer/patio and the house door. On the street, the outer door is left ajar as
if to say, “welcome.” It reminded me of
the same token as the UK and in Colonial Williamsburg and their pineapples on
posts or doorways (like Bobbie and Mike’s in Almogia). Everything is built
together like townhouses and the mountains are its backbone. When I looked toward the mountains, I saw a
group of paragliders in the distance.
I’d read that paragliding conditions were internationally famous here in
the Sierra de Líjar. What a sight to
behold!
My morning apple (breakfast) was long gone and hunger pangs were
getting noisier by the minute. The
streets began to curve upward and the cobblestones were bumpier beneath my
feet. And when I saw the bench, it
reached out and grabbed me. It was here
that I stayed for about an hour to watch the lives of Algodonales go by. Barely a wisp of a breeze, very few clouds
and the faraway sounds of a barking dog were my only companions. Far away from the busy clutter and noise was
giving me exactly what I’d hoped for during my Spanish hiatus. The only piece of me that was missing were
the very special people I’d left behind in America.
Finally 2:00 (14:00) found me back at the Mesón Tendido Cero
restaurant. Lyn told me restaurants
often offer a Menu del día, so I asked and yes, they did. The waiter nodded and I said, “Sí” but then
he wanted to know which one on each category?
I understood “ensalada” and “pollo” so that’s what I ordered: salad with tuna and chicken. It was all delicious. When I placed that chicken onto my tongue, I
felt a thousand points of pleasure.
There was lemon and garlic oil, black pepper and…I have no idea what
else. And patatas fritas (french fries). I drank “agua con gas” (fizzy water) and then
when I could eat no more, I ordered “cafe con leche” instead of dessert. You see, I’m off dessert for a while… When it
arrived, it arrived in a sweet little cup, smaller than I’d ever received
before. (WOW). Espresso?
I took a breath and sipped. Yep,
espresso with a creamy top. I drank
every drop. I might have grown a couple
hairs on my chest in the process, but when in Spain…(drink the coffee, not grow
hairs).
After my lovely lunch, I walked to the bus/cafe to check the
timetables for tomorrow’s bus back to Ronda.
The sun was warm on my back, children played in the square and mother’s
beckoned with children laughing in return.
They skipped, laughed and played.
One little boy held a gun in front of him and it pulled me back a
bit. The bus will leave at 4:00 and 7:00
pm, so if I go at 3:00 and wait, hopefully I will get one of them.
Of course, by now it was about 4:15. I was done
exploring for the day. I was a little
bummed about the flamenco shop, so when I saw Bar Canijo (my landlady
suggested was the best local place in Algodonales), I slipped into a chair and
started writing my daily journal. I
asked for sangria but she shook her head, no.
She offered me a “tinto verano con limón” and I recognized it because
Lyn had given me that drink. It is red
wine mixed with lemonade. ($1.20)
Yum. It tasted like sangria, looked like
sangria and went down like sangria. (smile)
I never feel rushed when I am at a table eating or having my
sangria here. Often I have to look up
the server to pay my bill. Today, I saw
a car double parked next to the bar without a driver inside. I also saw a man at a table across from me
leisurely sipping a beer and chomping on a small bowl of nuts…at least fifteen
minutes went by as I scribbled in my notebook.
When he left, he walked across the street to his car —- the one double
parked! The ways are so different here.
I mentioned the history of Algondonales and the May 2, 1810 date
I see everywhere. This was a very
important time in their history…Algodonales was pillaged and burnt by the French
and it was awarded its village status in 1817 in recognition of its
inhabitants’ opposition to Napoleon’s army during the War of Independence.
Tonight I would go without dinner again. I was filled up from my chicken and
salad. I did, however, snag three pieces
of bread and wrapped them in a napkin.
And then when I finished my wine, I dumped the nuts into another
napkin. My dinner was perfect, bread and
nuts. Now, I have been fighting with the
internet since I returned to my room and began typing up my notes. Trying not to feel anxious about it, they
will just have to wait until I get to Ronda if it doesn’t work. But feeling a bit disconnected from my loved
ones doesn’t feel good at all.
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