LYNN’S SPAIN/MOROCCO
JOURNAL
Day 16, Friday, May 24
Ronda
The“New” Bridge into Old Ronda
View from Hotel
We decided to have breakfast at the hotel. The morning view from our terrace was just as beautiful as last night. It was a busy day—we knew we only had one day. First we had to go on foot from the new city to the old—not very far. The way into the old city was via a beautiful old bridge with three spans. The Parador hotel, where we did not stay, sits on the edge of the chasm, just before the bridge. We started on the walk recommended by Dorling Kindersley guide book. The first stop was the “House of the Moorish King”—its main feature was the 365-step staircase down to the river which we had just crossed. The stairs gave access to the water, but the purpose of the rooms off of the stairs is unclear—whether baths or prisons—it felt like a prison to me being cold and damp. At the bottom, the river was polluted, but we could see up the limestone cliffsto the city is spectacularly above—no wonder it was almost impregnable.
At the corner of the walk, where we viewed the Moorish Baths and the Old Bridge, we lost our way a bit because we went outside the walls of the city. We knew we were outside but thought we could find our way back in. Instead we turned back before but managed to find a set of steps that led us back in—quite a climb. We had lunch (a cheese sandwich from breakfast) in the square behind Santa Maria la Mayor, one of the main churches in the city. But we declined to go in. We even saw two Siamese cats, the only such on the trip although we saw lots of cats both in Spain and Morocco.
We then departed from the walk and went further into the old city. We visited two churches: Maria Auxiliadora and Espiritu Santo. Outside Maria there were buckets of Stargazer lilies, my favorite, wilting in the sun. Inside the church people were working on two floats (like we had seen in the procession in Sevilla earlier): one with white carnations and another with the Stargazers. There was to be a procession at 8 p.m. that night! In Espiritu, we were able to climb a tower. The views at the top were obscured by iron mesh, but it was still worth the exertion. We picked up the walk on the way back—the main sight was the Mondragon Palace: beautiful courtyards, fountains, also some museum-type exhibits on wildlife and the first inhabitants of the region. There was also an interesting sculpture exhibit featuring art from Zimbabwe (like my turtle at home, bought in Portland).
Rooftops from the Espititu Santo Tower
We walked back home to rest up a bit—it had already been a long, hot day. Philip wanted to take another walk down to the valley which we had seen from our terrace—but wanted to take it in the cool of the evening. On the way back, I bought some painted pottery: a small bowl for myself and 4 teabag-size little dishes from a little store near the bridge that sold a combination of new and antique things. It was more fun than buying things from a ticky-tacky souvenir store. I had eyed painted bowls in both Spain and Morocco but knew I didn’t want to buy a big one to carry back. The little store was on the old side of the bridge, on the right-hand side with one’s back to the new city.
We only rested up for an hour or two—too much to do: change money, hike, change, eat dinner. We didn’t succeed in changing any money—pulled money out of the ATM, easily done wherever we went, even in Morocco. We also bought our RENFE tickets on the AVE (Tren de Alta Velocidad Espanola) back to Madrid. I also bought one small bottle of olive oil (for Linda). The hike down was from the last part of the hike—on the other side of the bridge from the 365 steps. A couple of zigzags down the path, we saw a hand-lettered sign saying this way to a view of the bridge. We entered the area only so far, quickly realizing it was private property, not an official viewpoint. So we exited, but an old man came out and told us what a beautiful view it was. We said we could come back later. On the walk back up, he had closed a gate and had smoke curling up his chimney—obviously getting ready for dinner.
We continued on down as far as some remnants of an old wall outside the city. From there we got great views of the bridge—although Philip was a little disappointed the bridge was not in the full sun—the whole point of our taking the hike at that time. After taking a few pictures, we started back up. In this area, there were wild pink snapdragons—but their mouths did not snap much.
My goal was to go look for the procession—for it was that time. Philip had said with Spanish time, it would be better to start looking at 8:30. Earlier in the evening, we had seen a little girl in a long, white dress, obviously on her way to the procession—I think it had something to do with first communion. We came upon a line of dressed-up, chattering women—I figured that they were on their way to the procession. We just followed them and of course came right to the procession—we saw the white carnation float and also one that we had not seen in the morning. This procession was different from the one we had seen in Sevilla although some elements were the same: headed by a cross-bearing boy, incense wafting back and forth, music. But this one had no long candles wielded by the participants and was more elaborate. The float in Sevilla was carried by people who were hidden by long curtains that fell to the ground (except we could still see their feet). The first two floats in this larger procession were carried by boys and girls who carried them on their shoulders in full view of the passersby—they had little cushions/pillows on their shoulders to pad themselves from the wooden poles. The third and largest float had its bearers hidden inside.
The
Procession
Ronda from Below
There were girls in their long white dresses, boys in uniforms, important male officials, women mostly in black suits and beautiful black mantillas, very formal. Finally we saw the float with the Stargazers, with the Virgin Mary on top. It was very emotional for me—I cried when the procession went by. I think because it was obviously very important to the Spanish people. Later we asked the hotel staff what it was all about. It was in honor of “Mary the Savior” or the “Mother protector.” I also pleased to have been part of the community of the town, if only for a little while. Also, it was interesting to see the continuum—we had seen the floats being assembled earlier in the day. The procession was going across the bridge, and scores of people were lined up to see.
Happening upon this procession put us behind the timetable. We stopped at a cliffside restaurant on the Parador side of the bridge to make a reservation, probably unnecessary. Then we raced home to shower and change. We had dinner out on the terrace—I had stuffed eggplant and a wonderful ice cream dessert. We watched as the night fell—the sky slowly changed from light blue tinged with pink to a mixture of dark blue at the top and shading to lighter blue toward the horizon to inky blue (and it was almost a full moon).
We fell asleep soon when we came home—it was nice to have a double bed instead of the single from the night before (the hotel staff had moved our things in the afternoon). Other than that our room was pretty much the same—actually the smaller room was cozier. We were glad to still have the view of the mountains—we were told we would even without asking, something we had been wondering about. I would have kept the single if it meant giving up our view. I don’t think we have ever stayed in a nicer room—luxury room plus great views.