Rounda- bouts

Everyone still seems to be a bit jet lagged. Ben and Jackie slept until 10:30 or 11 and I slept to an unusual 9. The rains seem to have subsided….and up on the hills behind the resort you could see snow visable on the higher elavations. Our English freinds told us there was snow in Ronda…a moutain town that we had slated to go visit on this, our second full day in Southern Spain.

We headed out after a false start (Jackie left her wedding ring at the hotel) after at least a dozen round -a-bouts later we were off again. There are roundabouts at almost every block in this country….a daring driving manuever everytime you approach one. Spainish drivers have no fear….it must have been born out of their bull fighting heratage. So meek, mild mannered, Fox Islanders are at a distinct disadvantage having only really experienced them approaching the North Gig Harbor pair of roundabouts going to Home Depot. Believe me when I get home…I will be a holy terror on my way to buy a can of paint.

The drive to Ronda was straight up a mountain pass not unlike one in the Cascades. The only difference is there are no lines differeniating one side of the road from the other, and guard rails are not where they spend their tax money here. On our way up we did in fact see dustings of snow along the side of the road. From out of nowhere a town appears, with the typical narrow streets and white washed buildings jammed together in eradic rows. Hmm, and how do they get cars parallel parked along these narrow streets? Another fun and interesting learning experience. This little town is amazing. Normally alive with activity, we arrived at siesta time…yes from 2pm to 5pm everything pretty much shuts down in Spain, a tradition I am seriously thinking about adopting when we return home. While we waited for things to come back to life we went to the town’s edge, where you can view valleys and hills for miles in every direction. Pretty breathtaking…literally. You look over the short rock wall and you look straight down a cliff to the houses below. The major land mark is a bridge build hundreds of years ago that connects one half of the city to the other. The legend is, that the architect that designed it was lowered down the side to inspect the structure apon its completion and his hat caught in the wind…he reached out to grab it and fell to his death. Cool story huh?

After returning to sea level and our familiar stomping grounds we found a comfortable looking restaurant and had another of a series of great meals. Ben chummed up to a cute little dog named “grumble” who was another guests dog, roaming free in the restauant. They became fast friends and now Ben swears he wants a Russian toy terrier.

Weather was cold but no rain, and they say things will get better as the week progressed