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Family Trip to Andalucia, Spain

For Terry & Bea’s Wedding

DTR 7/24/2010 (rev.7/27)

Friday, July 9, 2010

Flew to JFK then Malaga: Tony, Barbara & Mark Nickler, Oliver, Hollyanne, Mack, and Doug

Saturday, July 10, 2010

We picked up rental cars at Avis, and were met there by Terry and Bea. First time I met her, she is very charming. We all drove to Malaga city for Cathedral and castle “Gibralfaro” (= “Beacon Mountain”).

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Bea introduced us to our first meal of ‘tapas’, small plates of appetizers, a favorite in Spain.

We used our new Garmin T275 GPS units for easy ride to La Linea de la Concepcion near Gibraltar. The GPS was a fantastic time and stress saver. Tony took the toll road (AP-7), while Doug stayed on the ‘4-lane’(A-7), which was fast but had no shoulders. Sure enough, just over the crest of a hill a car was stopped in my lane, close call.

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Tony and I took long walk to see the Mediterranean beach above Gibraltar. Terry said it was ‘100 yards’ but it was at least a mile. Beach OK, but not beautiful.

At the Iberostar Hotel Terry gave us twin cell phones so we could easily communicate between the two cars. Barbara manned the phone dozens of times a day, keeping all of us in up to 5 vehicles coordinated.

Bea’s parents Juan and Beatriz arrived and took us out, separately, for dinner and drinks.

Boys went with Juan, who wanted us to have Iberian ham at his favorite place, La Serrano. But it was full and deafeningly loud. We found a good small restaurant in Calle Doctor Villar and had great tapas of all kinds. After 11PM Bea’s brother Antonio and cousin Alejandro joined us and we continued on for drinks at Plaza de la Iglesia de la Inmaculada Concepcion. There they told us the ‘cubo de agua’ story: two guys drinking, each wanted to pay the bill. They decide that whoever can hold his face in a bucket of water longer gets to pay the bill. They both drown.

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Terry, father in law Juan Calzada, Doug

Meanwhile Beatriz took all the girls, including her relatives,to their own separate dinner. At one point some of the ladies wanted to have a male exotic dancer come over from a nearby cafe, but Beatriz's mother and Barbara said they would prefer leaving, so that bit of bad taste didn’t happen.

Stayed at Iberostar Hotel, ritzy, sterile, but kids loved the buffet meals.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

With Terry and Bea and her girlfriend Rocio, drove to San Roque to get train to Ronda.

On arrival, Rocio and her fiance Ivan took us to breakfast for our first taste of “churros”, a gigantic spiral doughnut freshly deep-fried. Greasy but tasty. Then Ivan gave us a complete tour of the ancient hill town, quite exhausting to most of us, but fascinating. Steep trails down to valley below, blazing sun. The town was old when the Romans came. The weather from here on continued to be very hot and dry, close to 100F every day.

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This was a favorite town of Hemingway and Alexandre Dumas, among others.

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Ronda bullring, supposedly the oldest

Ivan treated us to a huge lunch of Spanish tapas, at La Casa de Clemente, near Arab Baths. “Rollitos” is ham and cheese in deep fried batter roll, wonderful. We could not finish all 10 or 12 dishes, but all were good. Expensive meal, but Ivan refused all our offers to pay.

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On return to La Linea in the evening, Terry took us to watch World Cup Football match near Plaza de la Iglesia. Spain beat Netherlands 1-0 in overtime. Crowds went wild, sort of. Lots of people walking around, driving around honking and waving Spanish flags, shouting "Yo soy espanol!" We of course shouted this too.

Juan Calzada and Beatriz Araujo (Bea’s parents) put on a huge dinner for us at 9:30 at 9 Espronceda. Fantastic variety of tasty things, like pulpo (octopus), fried fish, pinchito (small skewers of spicy pork), broscheta (large skewers of pork kebab and tomato and onion and pepper). Beatriz gave house tour, and we realized that she loves dolls and fabrics and figures, and has every square inch decorated exactly the way she wants. All is spotless.

Juan Calzada & Beatriz Araujo, note pineapple delight

Bea’s brother Antonio and his girlfriend (pretty and shy) Jessica came in later, along with cousin Alejandro, who is not a bit shy.

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Hollyanne gives pulpo a try

Stayed at Iberostar, La Linea.

Monday, July 12, 2010

We all toured Gibraltar, via bus 32 and cable car to top of the Rock, where we had stunning views of Mediterranean and Africa. We trudged to St Michael’s cave and gun emplacement cave and batteries. Apes were amusing but slightly aggressive. Hot, long walk on the Rock.

In the PM we left for Sancti Petri on Atlantic coast, with a stop in Tarifa for an excellent Italian early dinner. Tarifa is the southernmost tip of Spain, with a dramatic view of Africa from the old Muslim quarter.

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At my suggestion we continued on small coast road to Zahara, where we had a flat tire on Opel minivan. Oliver finally figured out how to use Tire Inflation Kit, and we continued in the dark up the coast on the main road.

It took an extra hour or two to find our house rental at Torre del Puerco (urb Sancti Petri Lomo), the signs did not match Terry’s description.

But the house (casa 103, gate J) was just fine after airing out. We all 7 managed to fit: Tony, Doug, Barbara & Mark Nickler, Oliver, Hollyanne and Mack.

Hollyanne and Mack had great stomach distress. We figured it couldn’t have been the fine Italian dinner since we all ate what they had. Eventually we realized they were the only ones who ate the potato chips that Tony had brought on the plane and left in the hot car for two days.

Stayed at the house in Sancti Petri, Cadiz province (Atlantic Coast, aka Costa de la Luz)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Had breakfast at the beach, while Tony swapped Opel with flat for a new BMW 330i, which the boys adored. Luckily there was an Avis counter only a mile away, at the Hotel Barcelo.

We had a brief swim. Crowded but fun. Lots of pretty women, but some could not afford complete bathing suits.

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In PM we drove up the coast to Cadiz. Parked at Alcazar, walked near Cathedral. At Plaza de Mina we found Museo Arqueologico with wonderful Phoenician sarcophagi and gold jewelry. Tony, Barbara, Mark and I walked counterclockwise through the gardens and city walls while boys went the other way. Huge ‘rubber’ trees, plus ‘quirky’ pruned arbor vitae etc. Saw parrots and nests. The boat harbor was colorful and like an impressionist painting.

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Tony, Barbara, Hollyanne and I wanted to see Flamenco dancing, (9:30PM at La Cueva on Calle Antonio Lopez, near Plaza de Mina). It was a great performance with 3 solo dancers: Jonathan Cande, Aldumena Periano, and Maria Jose Beltran, with Jesus Barrios (“El Canastero”) singing and Alejandro Mendoza (“El Archi”) on guitar. Tiny stage was maybe 10ft x 18ft. The wailing of the singer was jarring at first, but it grows on you. “Duende” is the name of the emotional force that should carry you away during a good performance.

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First we had dinner in Plaza San Antonio where all the old ladies sat for the evening, just a couple of minutes away from the Flamenco place.

Doug chats up the ladies of Cadiz

Mark and the boys returned earlier to Sancti Petri, stopping off at McDonald’s in Chiclana de la Frontera, which they enjoyed.

Rosalie was lost, between Amsterdam and Madrid. Her Delta flight was delayed so she missed the

Atlanta-Madrid-Jerez connection. Last we heard today she got to Amsterdam with KLM.

Stayed at the house in Sancti Petri

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

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Drove to Jerez, aiming for the Escuela Nacional Ecuestre (Real Escuela del Arte Ecuestre), in hopes of seeing some horse show. Closed, contrary to what I read in Lonely Planet. But all turned out for the better, on the next day.

We visited nearby Sandeman sherry production and took a tour, rather long for the kids. Barbara suggested the French language tour, to save a half hour of waiting for the english one. The adults enjoyed the tour, the Spanish girl spoke beautiful French.

I think we visited the Alcazar at the south side of the city, but can’t remember it.

In the late afternoon from Jerez we drove 30 miles east to Arcos de la Frontera, another beautiful ‘white pueblo’ on a steep hill side. Walked the alleys for a couple of hours, fine ‘Mirador’ viewpoint at south end. Had to add funds to Vodaphone accounts to keep cell phones working. We were all tired and hungry, but had to wait til 9:00PM for restaurants to open. Found a nice one in a cool dark courtyard of an old palacio, very good dinner, though waiter had trouble counting.

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Got news that Rosalie reached Paris, late on Bastille day. The Amsterdam-Madrid flight made an emergency stop at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris because of a mechanical problem and a thunderstorm, Due to the big holiday, no mechanics were working and no airline info was available, so Rosalie had to sit up all night.

Stayed at the house in Sancti Petri.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Finally picked up Rosalie at the Jerez airport around 10:30AM. She was OK but tired, and her suitcase was lost. She had been travelling about 40 hours, and finally made a connection from Paris through

Madrid to Jerez. Otherwise she would have driven all day Friday from Madrid with Gonzalo, friend of Terry and Bea.

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Took her to the equestrian show at the Real Escuela, along with Barbara, Mark, Hollyanne and me. Very impressive gaits, beautiful riding, “Spanish trot” I think is the name of the gait where the horse fully extends the foreleg horizontally before putting it down. Trotting in place for many minutes at a time. Rearing up on command, sometimes jumping. “Change of lead” on alternate paces, very pretty. We had great luck on the timing, since the show is only at noon on Tues and Thurs, so we just had time for a quick breakfast at a nearby café.

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Meanwhile Mack and Oliver rode bikes (available in the house) to the beach at Sancti Petri, while Tony did laundry etc. Tony was briefly locked out when front door blew shut, had to climb over the patio wall to get back in.

So it was a big family reunion when we returned with Rosalie to Sancti Petri.

That evening Terry invited us all for a beach outing, dinner party, bar-hopping and stay-over at Tarifa, one hour south. Charlie met us there at the beach, just arriving. Also Myles and Kristie, same. Mack and I went for the ‘mud bath’ (diatomaceous earth?) at the far end of the point, walking over a mile on the rocky shore with Barbara, coming back looking like gray zombies.

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We had a good dinner in the Tarifa old town at Cafe Lola, with about 30 people. I gave a short toast to the wedding couple, as did some others.

Joined at Tarifa: Mark, Oliver, Kristie & Myles, Alan (Barbara's brother) & Kathy, Mack

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Pretty Maria Carmen (bridesmaid) could not take her eyes off Charlie. The bar hopping was too loud for me, and the others were ready for bed soon after midnight too. While Tony, Barbara and Mark returned to Sancti Petri, the rest of us stayed in the Hostal Alborada (C/San Jose 40) in Tarifa. That was Oliver, Charlie and me in one triple, and Rosalie, Hollyanne and Mack in another, and Myles and Kristie in another. Nice place, cute tile. Breakfast OK with good juice. But confusion on whether Terry had pre-paid (turned out he had just put a deposit). Maid chased us down in the street to get us to pay for the not-included breakfast, but all turned out happy.

Friday July 16, 2010

Terry’s wedding day, starting at 8PM in Roche at Timone Restaurant above the beach.

Tony and I figured we could retrieve Rosalie’s bag in time. We drove to Jerez airport, which confirmed that bag was not there but probably was on the way to Seville airport, about 90 minutes away. So we drove there and waited for flight 112, which arrived late at 5:15. The suitcase was there. Traffic was horrible on return trip and we feared we would have to show up at wedding in our sweaty clothes, shorts and sandals. But we just made it in time to change into coats and ties. The bride was late so we were well on time. Rosalie was delighted to get her things back.

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Terry & Barbara

Nick & Hollyanne

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Cush & Rosalie

Charlie & Maria Carmen

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Gonzalo, Michelle (Franco's), Inma, Antonio

Beautiful wedding ceremony with sun setting into the sea behind Terry and Bea, while aunt Ana Marie performed the ceremony. Big dinner, good food and service. I gave my Spanish toast wishing blessings to the couple and thanking Bea’s parents for their kindness; it went over well.

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Dancing on the astro turf was fun for all. Terry and Bea carried off a romantic rumba they had practiced. Barbara and Antonio followed with a lively Paso Doble which looked great, though Barbara said it was an on-the-spot surprise for her.

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Hollyanne, Rosalie, Maria Carmen, Rocio

Tony and I looked for Terry’s hotel around 2AM, to drop off a bag for him, took over an hour.

Then we hunted for a hotel since there was no room at the house at Sancti Petri. We lucked into finding Terry’s earlier recommended Hotel Antonio out on N-340, the main road. It turned out simple, cheap and fine, with good breakfast.

We found out the next day that someone had trashed the men’s room at the wedding restaurant. The manager was angry and said it must be someone in our party, very upsetting. The info was kept from Terry and Bea, but the next day they had to spend much time and aggravation to settle with the manager, an ongoing problem awaiting estimates.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

We spent a long morning at the beach below Torre del Puerco. Boogie boards were fun but soon

broke. Mack started huge sand castle, finished by me and new friend Miguel (about 6). His parents enjoyed watching us and thanked me.

We were supposed to be at the “La Linea Feria” in the evening, which Terry said would be much fun. We felt we should oblige though we were not keen on joining the crowd scene.

We chose a cross-country route to Gibraltar, east through Medina-Sidonia, another hill town with Phoenicean roots. Had much-needed cool drinks on the main plaza. Notable was La Iglesia de Santa Maria La Coronada (the virgin crowned) which Barbara and the kids enjoyed with me. It was cool and spooky inside. Then we climbed 109 steps in the spiral staircase up to the top of the bell tower, where we could look down on Tony below.

We arrived late PM in La Linea. Some of us had avoided eating because the fiesta food was supposedly going to be so good, but that turned out wrong.

We said our goodbyes to Terry and Bea, going to Houston, then Belize in a couple of days.

Myles, Kristie and I met up and hunted for food along Calle Real and Calle del Sol, finally stumbling into the ‘boys party’ restaurant that Juan had taken us to last week. Montaditos (hot little pork sandwiches) were quite good. Later we strolled in the aimless crowds, but there was not much going on even though the entire town was milling around smoking and drinking and watching rather simple floats full of dressed up children.

Stayed at Iberostar in La Linea, Cadiz province.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Since Rosalie, Myles and Kristie had not seen Gibraltar, they went there for the day with Barbara & Mark, Mack and Oliver. Tony and I took Hollyanne for a day trip north to the mountains above Jiminez de la Frontera, and to Ubrique where supposedly you can buy the finest leather goods.

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We travelled through fascinating cork tree plantations in the Alcorncales park, where the bottom 8 ft of each tree was stripped down to the cinnamon colored interior. Huge piles of cork were stacked nearby like spanish roof tiles.

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Unfortunately the twisty roads made Hollyanne a little carsick, and the twisty part was 3 times longer than I expected. Also as it was Sunday, there was no leather to be seen, not even through windows in the closed up hot mountain town of Ubrique.

On the way back to Gibraltar we stopped on a ridge with huge windmills, which you see by the thousands in Andalucia. Up close they are enormous and a little scary with the blade tips whooshing over your head at very high speed.

The others had a great walk in Gibraltar. This time they hiked the “Mediterranean Steps” on the south end, and wisely skipped the WW II tunnels in the north, which required an exhausting up and down walk on our previous time there. Monkeys jumped on Mack and Rosalie briefly.

We had checked out of Iberostar in the morning, leaving all our bags in the cars in the underground hotel parking.

In late afternoon we drove off to Granada, about 3 hours to the east.

We arrived in the dark and found our Hotel Macia Gran Via (de Colon) on the Calle of same name. A narrow door at end of alley led to a car-elevator and the attendant guided us in and down. I shared with Barbara a little of the Faustino XV wine that Terry gave me, and finished the rest. Mmm, good.

Stayed at Hotel Macia Gran Via, Granada, Andalucia

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Monday, July 19, 2010

We took Bus 32 to the Alhambra, very convenient. The tickets Tony had ordered online were dutifully

ejected from the automatic ticket machine, so we got 8:30 entry tickets as desired. Apparently many are turned away.

We walked through the huge gardens inside the walls, and visited the highlights: The Palacio de Camares, Patio de los Leones (leones marble statue/fountains unfortunately were out for restoration), and the Alcazar fortress, with viewpoint atop Torre de la Vela. Gorgeous details in carving and tile work, and water channels.

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From there the girls went shopping, with some reluctant boys, at Corte Ingles and surroundings. Tony and I hung out separately, enjoying the plazas. We each got to the Capilla Real, a lovely burial chapel of Isabella and Ferdinand. Tony got to the enormous cathedral and liked it, but it closed for the PM just as I got to it. I found most Spanish churches to be heavy and squat compared to French and Italian. But the combination of Muslim and Christian architecture is of course the most unique thing here. Almost all churches are built out of original mosques.

Tony and I then took bus 31 to the top of El Albayzin barrio, to St Miguel Bajo, taking advice of American woman I met in Alhambra. These places were on the next hilltop, overlooking the magnificent Alhambra, which is hard to appreciate from any other angle. I had great fried fish in a charming cafe on the little plaza (Boquerones=anchovies fried in batter, Bacalaillas= small narrow fish made into a ring with head biting tail, also lightly fried in batter, scrumptious). I ate twice as much as I thought I could. Tony saw me downing expensive little cokes, so he bought two large cans of Coke at the nearby market and

brought them to my cafe table, getting a curt OK from the waiter. It was a great view, place and meal. The area was also known for pickpockets and other scams, per Lonely Planet, but we had no trouble. After the meal we strolled uphill to the Mirador at San Nicolas, which had an amazing view of the Alhambra on the opposing hilltop, with Granada city below and the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas behind it.

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Plaza San Miguel en Bajo, Granada

Alhambra, from Mirador San Nicolas, Granada

In the late PM we drove back west to Antequera, another charming and famous hill town, known to the romans as Antikaria. This brought us closer to the Malaga airport, for Rosalie’s return flight early the next morning.

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As usual, the Lonely Planet guide offered a great selection of simple hotels, so we drove to the Hotel Castilla on Calle del Infante Don Fernando. The GPS units often got very confused in the medieval streets so here too we had to do a lot of guess work in the last few miles.

The hotel had no possibility of parking even for a minute, but gave us a key and directions to a strange

but safe garage behind a rusty steel door down a few alleyways, past Calle Purgatorio and Calle Infierno.

After checking in we had several hours of daylight (sundown about 9:25PM) to explore the winding streets and the Alcazar fortress up at the top of the hill. There was a roman bath down at the base of the cliff, just ruins. Could not find a good quiet restaurant in time, but the kids loved Tele-Pizza.

Stayed at Hotel Castilla in Antequera, Malaga province, Andalucia

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Tony and Barbara got up at 4:00AM and took Rosalie to the Malaga airport, where she got her flight with no problem.

On their return we checked out and drove 15 miles south to the “El Torcal” natural park, an amazing mountaintop with strange striated rock formations like stacked pancakes, and boulders resting on tiny footprints in every direction. We all luckily had good sneakers and needed them. The 5-mile winding path had surreal landscapes at every turn, and wound alternately under shady thickets and through hot narrow canyons. This took a lot of energy. A fine café was at the info center at trail’s end, super clean and with good food and drinks, including the ubiquitous fresh-squeezed orange juice we drank every day.

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We had to backtrack to Antequera to get gas. Once we did, it became possible to go see the “Dolmens”, famous burial chambers from the Copper Age, about 2500BC, which we had earlier decided we just could not fit into the day’s schedule. It was only a mile or two from the gas station but cost us an hour to find it, mostly because of horrible signage and misinformation from locals. But it was worth it, really

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wonderful huge stone slabs making large underground chambers. An interesting movie at the center showed the supposed way the people dragged and erected the stones, some of them 180 tons.

From there we pushed on west via a small twisty road to “El Chorro”, the deep and dangerous canyon with the precarious walkway known as El Camino del Rey. Even if the walkway proved too dangerous to see, I had promised the boys that the guide book called this area a place for “adrenaline junkies”, most especially a particular guest house called Finca de la Campana, where we could meet all sorts of climbers, travellers and other young adventurers. But here the book was quite out of date. When we located the Finca, Ian the caretaker was only dimly aware of the older reputation, and knew nothing about any of the features mentioned in the guidebook.

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At my insistence we pushed on to find the permitted and walkable trail into the canyon, and started a long hike up the canyon wall. We got little help from locals or signs, but stumbled into the right direction. We were rewarded with pretty spectacular views of the narrow and steep canyon, and we could see the remains of the precariously crumbling old walkway, held on to the cliff face by rusty toothpicks it seemed. The trail ended in a “Mirador” above the railroad tracks, which also cut through the gorge via many tunnels. I had to investigate the trestle, tunnels and tracks for another mile or so, where Barbara would not let the boys follow me. From the openings between the tunnels I had wonderful views into the canyon and up to the tiny walkway. I wouldn’t dream of trying the danger hike on that walkway now, which is in far worse shape than the scary videos from a few years ago showed. It must be a 500 ft fall from the walkway to the rocky river below. On my return walk through the tunnel a fast train roared through it, but I had plenty of time and space to step away from it. A second train went through the tunnel 15 min later, blowing its whistle repeatedly, according to Tony. He thinks it might have been warned that someone was in the tunnel.

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Camino del Rey, walkway above and water below

This was a long day of hard walking, but it wasn’t over yet.

Since there was no good place or reason to stay in El Chorro, we decided to push on for Sevilla, which was at least 3 hours away to the northwest and it was now evening. But during the drive I found that Osuna lay along the way, especially if we took a cross-country shortcut to it, and the guidebook strongly recommended seeing it. Again, we found a good simple hotel recommended in the Lonely Planet, and called ahead to make a reservation. The twilight drive was lovely, through barren hills alternating with wheat fields and a castle here and there. The sun went down, but came back up as we crested the last hill, and we stopped to watch the full sundown, with an abandoned castle up the hill to our right.

The Hostal Caballo Blanco was run by a stout older lady, helped out by her mom. There was a narrow carriageway entrance with a polished floor through which we drove the two cars into an interior courtyard. Before the cars entered I walked in to make sure she had space for us. “Somos siete personas”, I said. She answered wide-eyed with “Estupendo”. The beautiful little hotel/restaurant was otherwise empty.

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For dinner she offered us the amazingly large menu and said we could have anything on it. It was one of the best meals I ever had. We all had freshly peeled potatos (by mom), delicately fried. My mixed salad was full of surprises: succulent palm shoots, chunks of dark and luscious tuna, lettuce that tasted like fruit. I also had delicious pork medallions, and I think fried fish too. We drank (OK, I drank) a bottle of Marques de Caceres red wine, yummy.

Stayed in Hostal Caballo Blanco, Osuna, Sevilla province, Andalucia

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

After an excellent breakfast (Iberian ham and perfectly fried eggs on pan tostada, fresh juice and coffee) we strolled Osuna separately. I found the indoor market interesting, and put away two more big tasty oranges. Tony saw the small Museo Arqueologico and got a private tour. When I reached it the wrought iron door was locked but I could hear Tony and his guide talking inside. The building was 12th century muslim. There were also 2 or 3 monasteries from early Renaissance.

Now we drove west 40 miles to Sevilla, rich for a century due to Columbus, but in decline since then up to the recent Expo in 1992. Lord Byron wrote Don Juan here, and Mozart apparently thought the place was romantic too.

Again the guide book helped us find a good hotel, right in the Barrio Santa Cruz district near the Alcazar. But again the GPS’s got scrambled when the streets got small, so we navigated by careful map reading as close as we could get to the one-way and pedestrian streets that our hotel was on. We left the cars in the underground public lot (that said “completo” at first), and walked around the corner to the hotel dragging our bags.

We lined up Flamenco Spectaculo tickets for 9:30PM, and then set out to see the famous Alcazar, containing the Palace of Pedro I, supposedly the equal of Granada’s Alhambra. It was vast and

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gorgeous, with splendid gardens. The Christian rebuilding fortunately saved a lot of the muslim decoration, carvings, horseshoe arches, stylistic arabic texts in plaster and stone.

The flamenco performance in a small ‘patio theatre’ (El Patio Sevillano) was good and we convinced the boys to join us this time. The ensembles of up to 6 dancers were impressive, but we preferred the more intimate solo performances some of us had seen in Cadiz. A dashing younger dancer, who had done a routine with a bullfighter’s cape, showed up near the door after we left, just in time for Hollyanne to get a photo with him.

Stayed in Hotel Puerta de Sevilla, Seville

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Thursday, July 22, 2010

In the morning we visited the vast Catedral, claiming to be the largest in area in Europe. Heavy and huge, with tons of art work, monstrans, organs, and the world’s largest carved altarpiece. Overload. Next to it is the famous Giralda Tower, built as a 12th century minaret, now converted to the bell tower but with the muslim facade left intact.

Most of us saw the cute little maritime museum, with models of ships in the Seville harbor. I was separated and waited at the hotel so as not to miss the others. Mark joined me and told me about the maritime museum.

We checked out mid-afternoon, with an ambitious driving plan: southeast through the flat “Campina” of Seville province, into the mountains of La Grazalema near Algodonales, where we stopped for a drink on a little shady terrace in the sleepy town. The roads were quite twisty and the scenery was exquisite- mostly barren yellow hills, or just bare rock, with occasional tiny farms. In some places only a church remained while the rest of the village was gone or abandoned. One of these sorry towns was named Pozo Amargo, which I believe is ‘bitter well’.

We connected with a main road up in the mountains, though it was still twisty most of the way down to the coast, south of Malaga.

Mark had heard good mention of a town called Mijas, just 20 miles SW of the Malaga airport we needed to reach the next morning. And the Lonely Planet described it as a still lovely hilltown, formerly known for Bohemian artists, high in the foothills above the Costa del Sol, which is overdeveloped. The guide also gave us a good tip for lodging, at Hostal La Posada, on Calle Coin. As we approached the streets got steeper and narrower and we could hardly believe that a car could get through (and out again) but we found the lovely place right where expected. The building was on a steep slope, so two rooms were

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down and one large room was way up from the tiled entry parlor, which overlooked the Mediterranean far below through one open wall.

Again an older woman and her mom ran the place. They enjoyed chatting with Tony and me, and drew us a map to a good restaurant. We arrived starving at what at first looked like a smoky little bar, but the owner sent us up to the rooftop terrace where we had another fantastic meal, with a great view.

Stayed in Hostal La Posada, Mijas, Malaga province

Friday, July 23, 2010

We were up by 7 and had a short drive to the Malaga airport. Turned in the wonderful cars, to an Avis attendant who declined to even look at them, just said everything was fine and finished. The flights to JFK and beyond went fine. Happy Birthday to Tony.