No comprendo

One of the joys of this experience for me has been trying to 'learn the lingo'.  At school I did not consider myself good at languages, in fact French lessons gave me a migraine! But as I grew older, and possibly a little wiser, and began to travel more widely, I relished the opportunity to immerse myself in the 'cultural differences'. And understanding, or more importantly communicating,  is an essential part of that experience. I do like a chat!

Each to their own, but not for me the kind of travel where you simply try and recreate England in the sun.  We are loving Rincon because it is genuinely a Spanish working community and they have made us more than welcome, perhaps Brits are still a bit of a novelty here. We have embraced the Spanish timetable. Everything gets up late including the sun and closes again from 2 til 5.  Lunch is about 3pm and dinner at 9.00.  If you go out before then the bars are deserted. The typical 'manana' attitude still exists so we don't expect to get anything done in a hurry.

The satellite TV doesn't work on any English stations but it's rather refreshing not to be bombarded with depressing BBC news every hour.  We mainly tune into Spanish radio stations to be surrounded by the language, although I admit they play nearly all British & American music, and some very strange and ancient choices at that  ..... when did you last hear Gilbert O'Sullivan??

So we signed up to Spanish lessons at a school just across the road and our teacher, the lovely Laura has become friend and guide. We do our homework and have a go! Our still limited grasp of the language has definitely opened doors. I think they are so surprised that we know any words at all that they respond to our efforts by being extremely keen to advise and encourage us.

Natascha & Jorge, new friends in the beach cafe

We have genuinely found people here exceptionally helpful.   One waitress Marta was even moved to meet us for coffee and exchange English / Spanish conversation, which was great fun ( and it's always useful to be friendly with the bar staff).

Emilio''s bar

So you may see us moving rather slowly down Topsham high street, Spanish speed...... hasta luego.

Can't have one without the other

My other daughter Olivia and her novio, Matthew, joined us for part of half term so we made sure to come up with another varied itinerary to keep them and the guides (us!) entertained.  This time we headed for glitzy Puerto Banus as I knew the boys would enjoy ogling and envying the beautiful boats.

The sun shone, the water sparkled, the restaurant ripped us off - all the usual things you would expect from a visit to Puerto -  fine for a fun afternoon but not somewhere we'd rush back to.

Then we drove into Marbella itself.  With its somewhat dodgy reputation and dubious connections we can't help feeling it is a city much maligned.  The old town especially is delightful with its finely pebbled streets and charming courtyards.  The most famous of course is the Plaza de los naronjas which fully lives up to its name.  You do get used to seeing oranges everywhere here, often just falling off the trees neglected, because they are so plentiful.

(this is another plaza not 'orange square')

      We had beautiful weather there and for a bike ride and beach lunch the next day.  

But unfortunately we had the worst day so far on Thursday with cold wind and rain, (yes it does occasionally happen even here),  which enforced a lazy day in Rincon but helped recharge their batteries before going back to work.  It was lovely to have some relaxed time with them and Marty relished the male company and an excuse to find the local sports bar.

                   But now we realise we are on our last 4 weeks...... already!

Churros, chocolate ...... and donkeys

We just had 3 fun filled days with my daughter, Georgina & her best mate, Romany escaping from the London wind & rain; so we wanted to make sure they had a great time.

It started with the obligatory bike ride along the passeo.  George had not ridden a bike for about 10 years but with one push start from Marty she was up and away, positively flying!

Another day we took to the mountains again but this time to the practically perfect pueblo blanco of Mijas.  Both George & Romany are into sugar free and healthy eating these days but the local favourite of churros & chocolate was too much to resist, especially on holiday.

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The town was just as pretty as we remembered it but does feel a bit Disneyfied, like a film set created for tourists.

However, the famous donkeys were mysteriously absent.  Used traditionally for all transportation in the hilly cobbled streets they have become one of the major tourist attractions.  But apparently animal welfare has now increased in awareness in Spain and the protection society has got on the case, so there may be no more donkey rides (I blame Sidmouth!). The girls had to make do with the statue version.

Of course we had to show them that Malaga (and the old folks) could be just as cool as London.  So Friday night was a night on the town.  Drinks at the infamous Los Gatos, followed by dinner amid the hustle & bustle of  El Pimpi , probably the oldest, best known and biggest restaurant in town, which was a great success.  We topped that with cocktails on the rooftop bar overlooking the Malaga nightime skyline.

We did find time to 'do' some of the more official sights including a rather windswept walk around the Alcazaba, the Moorish palace, a more modest version of the Granada Alhambra, but still quite amazing, with beautiful gardens and lots of photo opportunities!

Ronda or Rhondda ?

Our first visitor to our temporary Spanish home was my friend Kathrin, who works really hard as a Doctor in Wales and doesn't always make the most of her time off. So it was lovely to be able to entertain her here.

Originally from Germany, she has made her home in Cardiff Bay, via spells in Canada and Glasgow, but she doesn't  know Spain at all and loved every minute of her visit to Andalucia.  We tried to give her a varied taste of the region with our new found local knowledge.  So as well as local delights we took her up into the mountains to Ronda.

Nothing like the Rhondda Valley in Wales, the Spanish Ronda is an ancient town perched precipitously above the 100m El Tajo gorge and famous for the amazing Puente Nuevo bridge, which is certainly not new, and spans the drop to connect the old and even older halves of the town.  At that height in the mountains we knew the weather would be a bit colder but the clouds did not obscure the fabulous views.  

                                               The place is one gasp after another!

By contrast we had a great night out in Malaga sampling a couple of traditional tapas bars. Cortijo de Pepe felt authentic with great food but the very grumpy camarero gave us the giggles, he clearly didn't approve of tourists.

So Tapereria Cervantes made up for it with extremeley attentive staff but was maybe too touristy.  And we caught the last bus home!

Friday was our girly day out in Malaga town; Martin had elected not to join us and gone out on his bike.  After a respectable amount of walking, sightseeing and shopping we repaired to a bar Marty & I had found before, Los Gatos ( The Cats) for a light lunch.  We were lucky to nab a table as it is extremely popular. A few tapas and one tinto verano later we were about to ask for la cuenta when the waiter brought us 2 more drinks, on the house.  We asked for the bill again and he brought more drinks. Then he moved us to another table .... and brought more Cava. At this point I did text M to warn him we might never escape!!!

There is no doubt that the Spanish are generally very hospitable and have a different attitude to serving food, it's all about ensuring you enjoy the experience. Anyway it was a fun lunch and I think Kathrin went back to to Cardiff with some good memories.

Like Webster''s Dictionary ........

  ...we're Morocco bound.  We decided to make a little diversion from Spain ....to Africa!

We took our first visitor back to the airport on Saturday morning and made the most of the enforced early start by getting on the road further south.  We saw the sunrise over the harbour in the expat haven of Duquesa and took advantage of a full English breakfast! Then we pressed on to Vejer de la Frontera but not without a stop on the beautiful and almost deserted Atlantic beach along the way.

Vejer is a an extra special white town, high above the River Barbate, designated as a Historical Artistic Monument of Natonal Importance no less   ....   and well worth the visit.

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Then down to Tarifa for the night in the best 1 star hotel I've ever seen. Famous for its fortress and its fish we sampled the local variations on tuna. Then another early start for the ferry over to Tangier in just 45 minutes.

What a culture shock!  Spain has already become familiar and 'home'.  We have been to Morocco before and loved Marrakech and Essaouira but Tangier was just crazy. Although our riad style hotel in the medina was charming and cheap as chips.

We liked to think we we were experienced enough travellers to make our own way around the kasbah but we should have known better.

 Having gone round in circles and seen the same kids playing 3 times we gave in and took up one of the many persistent offers of an unofficial guide, a local young student named Mohammed of course, who spoke 5 languages and really knew his stuff about his home town.

We also explored the newer side of the city where the King has decreed that a huge investment will be made in developing the marina.  Something along similar lines to Malaga we suppose, will transform the town and bring much needed employment.   But for now the whole long seafront is a building site.

By this time, in search of refreshment, we reached the main plaza back in the old town. We made the mistake of hesitating, which was the cue for waiters from at least 3 different kerbside cafes to descend and try and persuade us onto their precariously perched plastic chairs.  Ideal for people watching & enjoying not being part of the traffic chaos.

One promised coffee & cake rather than the inevitable cous cous or tagine. We waited.  Coffee was delivered, clearly from a take away somewhere else in the souk. We waited. Cake was described and discussed in 4 languages and drawn in the air. Finally it came..... a chicken mince puff pastry tart.... dusted with icing sugar.  Oh well you can't win them all!