Ronda, Spain. Yesterday saw us in Gibraltar, today we are heading for Ronda. We get around, round, we get around. Once again Steve is driving, my apologies, chauffeuring. True to form I am clueless as to where we are heading and for why? Apparently, we are heading for them hills babe. It is some drive OK and all credit to Steve. Put simply, the road is following the contour and it sure is long and winding. Luckily, I have never suffered from car sickness and I pity those that do, because, they sure would have been awfully sick. I am quiet for a change and hanging on to the rest for dear life. It is actually a long way up, but, eventually we arrive. It is quite simply, spellbinding. A city, built on the top of a mountain. Quite why, remains a mystery wrapped in an enigma to me (Winston Churchill). I’ve always loved those words, a very bright man whom the free World owes an enormous debt of gratitude to.
Now Ronda has a very long history almost going back to the beginning of time. It has been ruled or invaded by many very different people from Arabs to Romans. Actually the road we travelled on was first built by the Romans. And since then many great writers etc. including Ernest Hemingway have used it as a refuge or just as a place to reflect on. Believe it or not in his famous book, ‘For whom the Bell Tolls’ the execution of fascists in the Spanish civil war, according to him was based on factual events here in Ronda?
However we are just tourists taking in the amazing sights one experiences here which I will show you pictorially later on. So in essence we are just walking around the place and getting the feel of it. We come across a sort of like Pagoda and sitting there by herself is a Spanish woman playing an electronic harp and singing softly. Now I don’t have much hearing albeit I do have a Cochlear ear implant which enables one to hear sound. It was one of those rare moments in time when time appears to stand still. Frankly it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. Not that I can be much of a judge as already explained. So I call Steve over and say, ‘what do you think of that then’? And his reply is immediate and unequivocal, ‘beautiful’. Later I see his wife Shay go over and buy one of her CD’s and I trust it will give you enormous pleasure listening to. Now the real reason for the interest in Ronda is, it is built on the top of a mountain and the engineering feat of it is quite mind blowing going back so far in time too. I am going to show it to you pictorially now and I trust you enjoy it as much as we did?
Ronda as a photo-gallery.
Photos courtesy of Steve Geach and Max Knobel, a pot-pourri from both. Now Max is frightened of heights and her husband keeps on pretending to try and throw her off and she is reaching the end of her tether and asks me to keep him away from her. I’m frikened of heights also and can barely plug up the courage to stare over the wall. Shivers. I can imagine being a husband coming home, three sheets to the wind and saying to dearly beloved, ‘let me check if I closed the back door’, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh, thump. And it is time for some lunch. My wife asks me what I am going to order, so I say, probably another hamburger. To which she explodes, ‘you can have a hamburger any time at home, whilst here try out some Spanish food. What about the Ham’? So I try out the Ham and bleeding terrible twas too, but I finished it. She then asks me what was it like so I tell her. Tsuh, dirty looks abound even though I am just being truthful and all.
The scene at lunch.
From empty chair and left. Shay, Penny, Siobhan, Himself (coughs in la di da voice), Lauren, Jack, Bruce, Max. Missing is Steve who is busy taking the photo. After lunch we wander around a bit more and then drive back home. Our break in Spain is approaching it’s end and we only have one more day left, sad to say. Siobhan is the delegated chef that night and she rustles up some Spanish supper. Quite what it was I have forgotten, but, I loved it, very tasty and all. Tomorrow Marbella, that’s the town and not some graze.