Life: Idiotropic

Vacation Day 3 Part 1 -

This morning Tiara had a sore throat and didn't want to go anywhere, my littles were hoping for a day at home to watch the Brady Bunch and play, and Kirk liked the idea of a slow morning.

I was the only one interested in "touring" the village that we were staying in and to be perfectly fair my need for continual picture taking bores even the kindest of relatives.  So this morning, after picking out clothes for the littles and making sure that things were set, I walked down the steep road to town to enjoy a leisurely photo taking extravaganza.

Known as the "Gateway to the Alpujarras," Lanjarón is a city known throughout Spain for their water.  Even in my Valencian village, Lanjarón water is found bottled in all the grocery stores.  Fresh from the Sierra Nevadas behind it, the majority of the run off finds its way to this sprawling white village on the edge of a steep drop where only an old Moorish ruin sits isolated on a rock with a road leading to it so steep it looks as if it hangs out over nothing.  Just outside town you see endless stacks of bottle filled crates and a parking lot of semi-trucks waiting to haul it off.  In town, water is plentiful and good.  The tourist map shows the 'water route' of 17 fountains mostly tiled in ceramic with poetry by Federico Garcia Lorca.  And if you're a bit "loca" you can participate in the water festival every year where runners attempt to get from one side of the city to the other without getting wet.  Firetrucks lie in wait, men with buckets stand ready, squirt guns, hoses, the works... you're bound to get wet, but if by some miracle you arrive completely dry, a beautiful leg of jamon serrano awaits you as a prize - hoof and all.

Also unique to Lanjarón is not the presence of, but the sheer abundance of niche shrines.  There's even a map that shows all 41 hidden in alleyways and high on walls throughout the town.  All different, they show saints and virgins, miracles, and other Biblical scenes within.  I certainly didn't see all 41, but I saw enough.  Behind the reflective glass some were hard to see well, but it's like a treasure hunt to find them in such obscure places.

Shop doors here are generally open unless the weather is particularly nasty.  A large collection of thick rubber strands hang obscuring the view inside and keeping out both flies and weather.  And signage is barely there, so unless you're in the know on some of these smaller streets, there is no way to tell the difference between a really nice produce shop and someone's home.  Little portals barely tall enough for me (I did have to duck twice and I'm not tall) lead to quiet alleys that lead to other smaller alleyways and homes.  No car could make it - these passages are for people only - or bicycle though I didn't see any.  I wonder how they move in to these places where no vehicle could reach?  They run between the two main cobblestone roads of the village so I was able to use them to cut back quickly to the main fountain where I met Kirk at the end of my walk.

It felt good to be out.  People there are friendly.  An old man watched me as I took a picture of one fountain.  The sun was making it difficult to take without getting glare on the shiny glazed tile.  He told me to come to where he was - it's a good spot here.  So I did and said "gracias" and we started talking.  I asked him if he was from that town and told him how beautiful it was.  "Then you should move here," he reasoned.  Hmmm.  May be I should.  It was an oddly warm day then - sunny and bright.  People sat on their balconies overlooking the street.  All the benches were full.  It was one of those beautiful mornings when people were out just to be out, to smile, to see friends and neighbors, and to stand for hours on sidewalks talking to them.  I went to the "market municipal" just to see it.  It was quiet, but I did get a great picture of a half pig hanging from a hook - not beautiful, but interesting.  I walked by another little meat stand where two woman were shopping.  The salesman saw my camera and said "take a picture of us."  I stopped and looked and the two woman turned, looked at me and my camera curiously for a second, then realizing what he'd said, shook their heads very quickly in disagreement and started to back away.  The man laughed.  And I didn't take that picture.  The only other photo that I didn't get was of this creepy guy who was lingering in one of those narrow alleyways.  I passed by, then he whistled back and posed with his arms out as if dancing to YMCA.  It felt too strange, so I quickly walked on. 

Vacation Day 3 Part 2

Met Kirk at the roundabout in the sun with the fountain in the center right across from the Ayuntamiento and a couple small groups of old men in tweed caps chatting about whatever old men chat about.  Stood there and people watched while I waited, then he drove up and we were off to enjoy part two - some time on the beach of southern Spain.

Ahhh. Southern Spain.  A brief alliteration, but so sweet.  There is something about the sound of "Southern Spain" that signals serenity and the sipping of sangria under the Spanish sun.  :)  Ok, so I'm getting silly with the Ss, but you get the idea.  Really.  To me, there is something intoxicating about that sound - Southern Spain.  Add playa and I'm there.

And this playa.  Oh my goodness... so so very warm.  There in my thick black tights, skirt and sweater and roasting in that Spanish sun.  A little sangria would have been soothing.


The best views sadly, are on the wrong side of the road.  It pained me to drive west along the windy road high above the coast with the aqua blue sea on my left and postcard perfect white villages and homes tucked in and among the soft green hills.  To see it and not be able to stop. Torturous.  But the cliff fell off on the left and the handful of turnouts were at dangerous corners where it woulnd't be safe to cross oncoming traffic and park.  I assuaged my torment with the idea that we'd be coming back... I could get those shots on the way home.

Our quirky apartment landlord recommended Almuñecar's Playa de Cabria, but we didn't see it until we were coming home later so we stopped at a quiet beach just past Almuñecar, La Herradura.  Lined with restaurants and shops, but not overly touristy, this cove is encircled by white homes on the green hills that flank it, an old lighthouse rests on top of on to the west, and hangliders ride the currents all around.

The sand is course and rocky, but we enjoyed another hunt for agates, beach glass, and smoothed beach tiles.  We played, stopped for lunch early because Elise had to use the bathroom, then went back outside to play again and watch the sunset.  Arianna and Elise enjoyed a beach playground, Kirk created a zen garden from grasses and reeds, and Luci and I strolled leisurely, necks craned downward, looking for treasure and filling our pockets.  The sun set, it darkened, and we stopped at an ice cream shop before leaving - a great place filled with locals who greeted each other as they walked in and  leaned comfortably on the bar with their elbows to chat with the owners.  The local police stopped for ice cream too - just as smiley and chatty as everyone else.  May be it's in the ice cream.

Got groceries at the market on the way back to the car.  The girl working there talked to the girls a little in English and gave them each a free beach ball.  Happy children and two tired parents about to drive away with three sugar infused kids now playing with large inflated beach balls - in our tiny car.  Uh, not so happy.  But her name was Elise too and she was very sweet.  More friendly Spanish.  Not complaining.

So we'd watched the sunset and it was dark and all those amazing views before turned to blackness dotted with lights hardly even worth stopping now.  A drive east down the coast, then between mountains, around lakes glowing aqua in the moonlight, and home to Lanjaron where the road to our house was almost passable enough to take without closing my eyes.

Brady Bunch and games of War.  The quiet family evenings have been especially nice on this trip.

Early to bed...

Tomorrow we hit the snow.

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