Hi everyone! In what has to be one of the most rampant cliches of the new medium of blogging, I am going to say, "I know it has been a while since I posted, but I will post more frequently in the future." Honest! Right. Anyway, I just got back from a very nice weekend in the coastal town of Nerja, but the post is not about that due to a slight disagreement between my camera and I. See, I said that I was seeing beautiful cavern vistas while the camera retorted that I was actually observing darkness with faint variations. However, a friend on the trip had a more agreeable sort of camera, so I am going to steal her pictures when I can. So in place of Nerja, Ronda.
Adhering to the principle that the high ground is a great strategic asset, Ronda is a city way up in the mountains, on a mountain. Splitting the city is a deep ravine, seen above, the original Roman town being built on one side. Later, the city expanded to both sides. Problem is, to cross from one side to the other, one had to descend to the bottom of the hill, cross the river running through the ravine, and then walk back up to the top of the hill. Eventually, they decided a bridge might serve better.
I went to Ronda with my program on the 5th of February. It was breathtaking. At first, I thought it was incredibly dull. A few shops, an okay plaza, decent restaurants, no big deal. I started wondering if the rest of the day would be wandering around a mundane, if quaint, town. Then I walked onto the bridge pictured above and looked around.
Perfect, clear blue all round. Hills rolling softly in the distance. Cliff faces stretching down hundreds of feet. Medieval buildings carved into solid rock. Ancient walls, bridges from generations out of time. Views extending out until the intervening air tinged them with a touch of the sky's blue. Heart-aching views.
Sufficiently corrected and humbled by these sights, I took the next logical step and posed awkwardly in front of them.
I think I asking if she was going to take another picture here. She being Paloma, a friend of mine in the program (below).
More scenery, less posing.
So the day had taken a turn for the better. While nothing matched the thrilling shock of stumbling onto the scenes above, the rest of the day passed to me well (a phrase that makes more sense in Spanish... more on that next post). My architecture professor led us on a tour through several cool spots, the first of which was the town bull-fighting arena.
The corridor below is where the bulls are kept during the fight. Each fight involves 6 to 8 bulls, each one kept in a separate room, the doors opened after the previous bull is spared, or more commonly, killed. Killing animals in public for sport = cultural difference. I plan on going to a bullfight, so no judgment or opinion until then.
For some reason, the arena operators prefer to open the pen doors from above using the pulleys shown. Lack of machismo, that.
We also went to an excavated Muslim bath from before the Reconquista, but I did not take pictures. I will say though, my professors description of an active Muslim bath has made me determined to go to one before I leave Spain. In short, it sounds like a spa done right: cold room, warm room, hot room, extreme massage, relaxation, snacks. And no, the snacks part is not a joke. And now a mural (of Ronda) to round out my post on Ronda.
Oh, more things. That same weekend, I spent a day and a night in Sevilla, which was also cool, especially since I had the chance to meet up with my good friend Jessica, who is there for the semester. However, I left my camera on the bus... still, some quick thoughts.
I visited the Royal Palaces (plural), which were duly impressive. A few of the rooms really hit me; their design, the small touches, the careful craft-work, the sheer weight of history. I remember one point: I was strolling alone through the extensive royal garden and I realized what it represented, what it was. Heads of state -rulers of countries, colonies, and empires- had walked these same paths. Petty nobles had ruminated in the shade of this orange tree. Ministers and envoys had heard the faint clash of water in the distance. These simple walkways and green plants had stood silent as men considered the fate of millions. A servant had waited duly next to this fountain. And I felt a faint connection to it, that history. I know only a select few ever set foot inside here when the royalty still held sway, that history cannot be told as a tale of a few men, but of humankind, but that place was seeped through with burdens from before my time.
Did I say quick thoughts? Okay, quicker thoughts now.
The Cathedral of Sevilla: like an ancient forest of stone, quiet, hallowed and immense
The Giralda: A joy to walk up. Really, each level had a window that looked out slightly higher than the previous until you reached to top and you could see for miles. The bells started ringing as I looked down on Sevilla.
Flamenco show: I will go see another, an intense performance.
Hanging with Jessica: :)
"But Chad," I pretend you saying, "that was weeks ago. You've been living in Spain for a month now. What's it like, day-in and day-out?" Ah, that is for the next post, which I will try to have up within a few days. Rambling! Okay pictures! Exclamation points! Coming soon! Until then,
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