My second trip to Mijas. This time, I drove to the mountain village, maneuvered into a parking spot inside the many-layered parking structure and played tour guide to Chloe and Awad. My confidence grows with each mile I drive. El Carro is becoming my friend.
No burro ride for a photo shot this time, or bull ring exploration. We three were happy just street walking over cobblestones and gazing at the layers of white houses tucked onto the hillsides. The gardens were thick with blooms; red geraniums, yellow and orange lantana as tall as a house, oleander with baby shoots and a massive garden near the bullring filled with herbs. When the scent of plumeria wafted toward me in the breeze as we gazed at the far away Mediterranean from the looking point up winding stairs, I was surprised.
I couldn't see it, but I followed its perfume. Tucked beside a colored-tile fountain stood two trees. Not plumeria, but minuscule replicas. Heavenly. If there had been a bench nearby, I might still be there breathing it in deeply.
Slowly, we wandered into some shops. I found a small Spanish flag to put into a pot in my courtyard garden when I return home. And when I spied the tiny flamenco shoes, I yearned to buy them for my baby granddaughter...but they had 1-1/2 inch heels. Forget that. That girl was hard enough to chase after with flat shoes. They reminded me that my custom-made flamenco shoes will be ready in Estepona in about ten days...
Chloe and Awad followed me like lambs. I was happy to walk the maze of the twisting streets above the main square to return to La Reja, the cave-like restaurant that Lyn and I enjoyed lunch a few weeks ago. It was everything I remembered, deep steps, up, down and over and then I saw the lumpy, white stone walls inside. The waiter led us deeply inside to find a nest of tables. I started grinning as we entered the outside room and that changed to delighted laughter when the waiter remembered me! By now, I can speak enough Spanish to be understood and his smile appreciated it. Me too.
It was indeed a memorable day. Pan con ajo (garlic bread), ensalada Malagueña, Medallions de solomillo de credo (Pork medallions), agua con gas (fizzy water). After drinking our Café con leche, we could barely move from the table. Juanita took our photo, windblown and all... and told me to return. (I'm sure he tells that to all the ladies...)
Then, back down the many steps, across the cobblestones, through the square and the viewpoint.
Afterward, the parking garage faced me again. With Chloe's help, I backed out (yay!) and we wound our way out by missing the sides of three floors of narrow exit lanes beside cement walls! It felt wonderful to be back into the fresh air of Mijas once again. Parking four hours cost only 1 euro!
Down, down, down the mountain, through Fuengirola and home again in under thirty minutes. I may soon be Queen Bee of the Highway (smile). Then, siesta time. It is exhausting having these adventures. And then Chloe was sure another jaunt to Luna Beach would be perfect. So, off we went again with towels for the sand and a sleepy Awad in tow.
As I write this post here on Luna Beach again, the waves are thrashing over the dark ochre rocks and beating their way toward me. I see Awad jumping from one lichen-covered rock to another as the waves tease his feet. I wonder at the free spirit I see, knowing his mind and heart are in turmoil as a Sudanese refugee. He is staring at the sea. His mind must be bulging with uncertainties. I wonder where his thoughts go in the midst of the wildness of the water. Chloe now stands near him, her legs wet to her knees. He reached for her and she leaned into him. He holds his own on the rock, his toes gripping the edges like an eagle. His hands are pushed into his pockets, his jeans rolled above his black knees. He turned toward me and grinned like a young boy.
Yet, he was a mathematics professor before he joined the rebel cause against the dictator of Sudan. And then had to flee for his life. He's seen so much tragedy. Now it's my turn to smile. The sea has given him something special today. His teeth are very white in his dark face and now Chloe is balanced on the rock with him as he directs her for a photo op with his phone. The wind grabs her dress and whips it to her waist, her swim suit peeks out at me. The sound of their laughter is swallowed by the gurgling and crashing waves. Finding each other in this wild and crazy world gives me hope that our world might one day be sane again.
The sea feels more alive and vibrant today. As if it's tossing around a thousand stories and it's on a quest for listeners. Yes, my mind slips into fanciful mode as I veer away from the heavy thoughts I've carried with me today. As I sit here with gritty sand between my toes and on all sides surrounding me, it dawns on me this is the same sea where two U.S. military ships shot missiles into Syria just hours ago. My heart is bumping in my chest. America sent a strong message today. I just wonder how it will be answered. It's time to stop my thinking.
Tomorrow, Chloe and Awad will leave...and I will take a new step: driving to the Fuengirola train station in the dark at 6 o'clock a.m. I will also be driving back to Los Nuñez to visit with Lyn overnight...and sharing conversation and hugs with her and Saidie. AND I AM KEEPING THE RENTAL CAR. Big sigh. I can do this.
No comments:
Post a Comment