To Cadiz

Time to move on again. 3 nights in Ronda was a good choice. Others would like to hang around and enjoy the disribution of the spoils at the end of the festivis, however that's not our thing and we'd pretty much seen and done enough to appreciate the place and create some cool memories. So it was up early again, pack and clatter our way up through the confetti littered streets to the deserted bus depot. 45 mins early just to be safe. The signage was terrible but it didn't matter as our beast arrived 30 mins early and our smokin' lady driver was very accommodating and as such it all went smoothly. Non-Blogger hunted down some vittals and coffee before we headed off on a 4 hour journey, winding our way down into the valley leaving Ronda behind as a misty silhouette on the crest of a grey ridge in the distance with the lighter higher mountains beyond framing the view. 

A direct drive to Cadiz would take about 2 hours, the amount of diversions off the main roads to visit the bus stops of small towns along the way doubled that,  however not actually being in a hurry it didn't cause any stress. Just had to remind oneself not to drink too much water as there was no bladder relief available. Apart from maybe refilling the bottle but it never got to thst stage. Saw some very quaint whitewashed villages perched high on hills and then we decended lower and lower through a well cultivated and cured landscape. Fields of dried sunflowers and corn, stands of eucalyptus (someone should've told them that's not such a great idea), other unidentified crops and the inevitable olive trees all over the place. All sorts of locals getting on and off in obscure places provides some sort of insights into the lives they lead. 

Cadiz is an extremely busy modern industrialized sea port and surrounding region. In the heart of it lies a promotory which holds the old town. Before that there are miles and miles of high rises (10 to 20 stories) lining the coast creating a Surfers Paradise like feel. This is one of the go to holiday destinations for the Spanish. The old town (where we are) has quite a long history and is the go to for international holiday makers as well home to people who live here. We've only been here half a day and the observation seems to be that there are more locals here than tourists and they are genuinely enjoying being so. There are possibly a lot of Spanish visitors and thus it's difficult for we outsiders to distinguish between them. Everyone seems happy. Vibey they are. Lots of pre-schooler kids bouncing around. A distinct lack of children older than that - suspect being the middle of the week they're all off at school somewhere. Hope so. A properly functioning human society needs this demographic more than us old farts swanning around bemoaning how life was so much harder we were young.

Our hotel room is buried in a reconstituted building buried in the heart of the old city and as such annoys this blogger enormously as there are no views to capture out the window. He'll get over it. On the upside it's right in the heart of the old city and as such we can (and do) walk out the front door, turn right or left on the cobblestones and just soak it all up. The narrow streets create shadows from the hot sun (this is on purpose, they knew about this stuff before some smart arse came along and invented air-conditioning, widened city streets and created global warming) which we happily went exploring through with no set goal knowledge gathering as we'd get that tomorrow on the walking tour. The wandering went halfway into the heart of the old town looking for the perfect place to placate the hunger yearnings yet the call of the backboard just next to our rooms that depicted jug of sangria kept calling and so back we went.

After the subsequent placation we wandered without learning in the direction of the beach between two forts which was even more insightful into the mindset  of the locals.

It's stinking hot, yet being on the edge of an ocean there's always some sort of breeze, along with fact that there's water..it's the place to be. Siesta time means everything shuts between 4 and 8 pm.

This blogger used to think they all went home and slept. Maybe inland they do. In the oldest city in Eroupe they head their beach. Carrying umbrellas, foam eskies, beach chairs, towels etc. They were doing what their ancestors had done for countless centuries before them. The foam eskies possibly being a recent addition to the overall cultural catalog.

Halfway back to our abode we used a methodolgy to stop underneath an umbrella to cool down. It was in a small plaza (5 roads intersecting). It happened to have seats under it. As well as a table. On the table was a piece of laminated paper of which some forward thinking person has listed items we could be purchased..it was all in some strange dialect that only a smart person (or a local) can disseminate. Or a smart phone. As it turned out the serving dude knew what we needed ( using the traditional intercultural methodolgy of just saying stuff in our own language with a pretend accent and expecting they'll get the gist of it). This turned into one of those experiences that you quite simply can't book for. We had a young couple with a kid in pram and one of theirs dad being an extremely good opera singer (there's a word there ...maybe..tennor?). Anywho, the dude had a voice, and was happy to throw it around the little amputheature that was the intersecting roads in the heart of the Cadiz old town. He was very gernous and affable and was focusing his wonderful extrusions on a large (almost toothless) lady on the next table. No angst at all - this was just good fun with obviously a heap of years of training and practice behind it all. Whilst he was showing off (justifiably so given his talent) at the end of the interation she let loose with her own capabilities, and her voice was fantastic. Like wow.

Anyway we went back to the room, navigating the maze of alleyways with intuition and digital tools when really needed. Short reconioter and then out on a dinner mission all devised and run by non-blogger.

As it turns out we were first in queue to a place where everyone queues for. Chuffed about that. Great food, great company and good fun sitting there slowly consuming the offerings whilst there's a group of peeps jealously watching you do so.

Goating aside it was splendid nosh full of local flavors and obviously generations of refinement to make it so. Another stroll back to base through sublty lit narrow cobblestoned roads that have guided like minded peeps for centuries and will continue to do so for many more.

It's an absolute pleasure to be part of it, at least once.