Was surprised that the time was 10:00 am when first looked. The town was very quiet early on as we had coffee and croissants spanish style in the main square next to the new bridge.
It's called that because it's the latest additional bridge that went in sometime after the old bridge went in. That one was actually the second one crossing the canyon with the first actually down fairly low and is more a river crossing bridge than a canyon spanning one which is what the new bridge definitely does whilst the old one only does half way up. The gist of all this is the folks of Ronda are really proud of their bridges especially the new one for two reasons. 1. It stayed up after the first one fell down killing about 50 people and 2. It enables the town to grow as it connects the old town to the new town. The old town is surrounded by cliffs and a canyon, the new town by the canyon , cliffs and more land to expand in to. The canyon and cliffs are about 110 meters high. Seriously vertigo inducing stuff that this here blogger has never experienced before. Could be due to still no faith in recovering knee jobs, but still not so nice to experience. Every cliff top photo is somewhat of an ordeal. The other thing about this bridge is it's actually very old. That is if your perception of 233 years still standing and carrying traffic is old. It looks old, feels old, has some great stories (like it used to have jail inside where they held bandits and if they misbehaved they simply threw them outside. Even had a special balcony to cast them off from.
We learnt all this from our walking tour guide. She was from Ukraine but talked about the place as if she was a local. Our tour consisted of 3 couples, us, 2 yanks (he an ex vet with dodgy knees) and an English/Irish pair in which she had no interest in hearing about the history of bull fighting and they managed to get us all to agree that we should not hear about it from our guide as we are standing outside the only fully functioning bull fighting ring left in the country. It defines the locals culture but she (via he) totally shut it down.
It was fascinating instead to hear how they mentally translate Celsius to Fahrenheit when they're away from home.
That, and his joke about nuns bad habitts was enough to end that friendship before it even started. Hopefully they will not be on the Cadiz walking tour in three days time.
Toffy pommy gits aside the insights provided by our guide were soaked up with enthusiasm, highlighted by the fabulous calm warm/hot weather. The mountains define every horizon like cardboard cutouts (credit to non-blogger for that one) and just over that one there is Gilbultra, the Mediterranean meeting the Atlantic which dictates all the weather they get. And here's me thinking it was all under the control of the weather satellites...never mind, we also spent some time on the Camino De Santiago Trail which is another bucket list item ticked off (even before it got on the list!). Ending up in the heart of the old town where they used to practice bull fighting in front of the main church (before they constructed stadiums to do so), we parted ways. No one looked back to wave goodbye. We hadn't been on the trail that long.
By now your blogger was on a mission to find the best spot to capture the bridge (new one obviously) for some riveting slow TV whilst non-blogger wasn't. So as the sun beat down on the deserted ancient ruins of the old battlements we too parted ways. One to strive and struggle down and up numerous steps in the searing heat, searching for the best available visual perspective whilst the other went in search for an ice cream. No luck on the visual spot as the whole canyon is locked at sunrise. Iced cream...tick.
Back at the hotel we had renewed appreciation of the rooftop bar and swimming pool above that which overlook directly into the bullring next door. Apparently they now only get serious about this once a year and as it transpires it all starts on the day we leave. Imagine that, sitting on your banana lounge basking in the shade of the umbrella deflecting the searing heat of the sun, Pina Colada in hand as the cool residue of the recent dip in pool slowly evaporates away. The mountains in the distance define the horizon with promises of adventure and wonderment beyond, all to the aural backdrop of 5 thousand people roaring as one as they express their emotions of being participants in the showing of worst of human behaviors. Even better, they can stand up and watch in thier swimming briefs whilst doing so.
Luckily for us we will have left by then. We did though make the most of the whole situation and did spend a couple of hours doing all of that. Beers i.l.o. cocktails and tourists on the ring floor who get to leave i.l.o. ..never mind.
After the refreshing dip and wind down it was off into the old town for another two stage Spanish style food extravaganza, to which we fell for being in the expensive part of town. Ended up in a very costly but extremely good food and wine joint next to the main church. As the setting sun rays caught the walls of the old buildings in random ways, kissed the tiled roof tops and then the peaks of the mountains beyond, we over ate, over spent and made the most of it. The modillions adorning church walls peering down on us, each with their own expression of existence whilst ignoring the swallows swarming around the nests they'd built around their ears.
A very pleasant stroll through the quiet cobblestoned alleys of the old town to get back to the room and finally realising that aircon hadn't been on at all in the last 24 hours. It is now, but maybe it shouldn't?
