The last time I had a foot massage was in China may 27, 2007. The poor girl who made the attempt on me was so embarrassed because I wiggled so much from tickling she could barely complete the job. Her compatriots (we gringos were lined up in a row of six couches) giggled and chattered like magpies over my predicament. I swore, “Never again!”

Yet here I am, 15 years later on the Costa del Sol, trying to keep still as another nice Chinese lady massages me feet and legs. Maybe she’s more skillful or maybe, like most of me, my tickle nerves have atrophied but this is bordering on pleasurable. At least I have two paragraphs for today’s blog. And Jeff paid for me, Judy and himself. 

We’ve spent most of today perfecting the art of Chilling and, truth be told, it isn’t all bad. After you get over the shame of not experiencing one iota of culture nor one factoid of history,  you kinda get into the swing of it.

Mark, Carl and I took a nice walk from the villa to the beach and along the beach promenade as far as we could before heading back toward Old Town and a cafe where we had an Americano. I drink coffee once a month, on average, so I’m now good for June.

Walking back home we encountered Jeff just emerging so we accompanied him to the neighborhood panaderia para el desayuno (bakery for breakfast). We had the special: coffee with cream, orange juice and freshly baked bread.

I spent some time finishing yesterday’s blog, Mark made up some steak and chicken subs for lunch and then a bunch of us headed for the beach and the aforementioned foot rub.

Here is one cultural note (those who aren’t into culture can move on to the next paragraph. Spanish beaches permit topless attire and this beach was no exception. One lady had a tan with the most perfect bronze tan you can imagine. And, I confess, it was an allover tan.

Most have returned from the beach and have hit the pool. Eventually we’ll figure out dinner.

Tomorrow is moving day. Everyone except Judy and I will leave for Barcelona at 9:30. Our friend Enrique is picking us up about then and we’ll move on to our AirBandB a few blocks from here. We don’t have firm plans for our time with Enrique but rest assured we’ll do something fun.

Pictures are a bit sparse today. Just a few snaps from the iPhone,

Dinner turned out to be mostly leftovers, of which there were a ton. Carter and Andrew went for pizza. Jeff and Kim are taking the older kids out for a clubbing experience tonight. Clubbing here doesn’t start until 11 PM at the earliest so it will be a late night for them.

Washington Irving spent the summer of 1830 living in the Alhambra. This was 12 years or so after Napoleon’s troops, forced to withdraw during the Peninsula War, had attempted to blow the place to smithereens so enemy forces couldn’t use it. They, fortunately for Irving and us, were only partially successful. Today, they say, only about one-third of the original structure remains. People doing excavation in the area frequently find remains of the Alhambra’s original walls and towers.

I’ve been reading Irving’s “Tales of the Alhambra,” which I recommend to anyone. It’s an enjoyable read, made up of Irving’s personal experiences traveling to and living in the Alhambra plus his retelling of myths and tales told to him by the residents of the Alhambra with whom he lived. His prose is entertaining, with a gentle dose of 19th century Ironic wit and, I’m sure, his own embellishment, especially in his development of the characters. The book, along with the work of other Romantic-era artists, fueled interest in the Alhambra and Moorish Spain in Europe and America.

“Tales of the Alhambra” plus a quick wikipedia scan, was my preparation for our visit today. And while I didn’t learn much about the Alhambra per se from Irving, his stories did give me a context for appreciating what we saw. For instance, in “Legend of the Three Beautiful Princesses,” he tells of King Mohamed the Left Handed’s three daughters who were imprisioned in a tower to save them from the corruption of young men. Long story short, two of the three, raised as Islamic Moors, made their escape (the third couldn’t bring herself to leave) and became wives of two handsome princes in Christian Cordoba. Their tower was set atop a steep ditch between the Alhambra proper and the gardens of the Generalife. It was fun to walk by what very well could be the very towers from the legend and imagine the princesses ensconced therein. 

An important feature of the Alhambra was the elaborate water system devised by the Moors to bring fresh, cool water from the nearby mountains to fountains and baths. Islam calls for five-times-a-day prayer and before each prayer session ablution, or washing, is required. Fresh water was therefore important for hygiene as well as hydration. In “Legend of the Moor’s Legacy” Irving recounts the tale of a humble man who supported his wife and five children by hauling water on his donkey from the Alhambra down the hill to Granada, selling the cool water by the glass. One day he befriended a Moor who that same day died, leaving our hero Peregil a sandalwood box that contained a document in Arabic and a wax taper. Another long story short, Pergil’s donkey was taken by the corrupt mayor, an attorney and the tattle-tale barber. Pergil used his inheritance to unlock untold treasure from an enchanted chamber deep under the Alhambra. Not only that, the mayor, attorney and the barber entered the chamber to get the rest of the treasure. Pergil extinguished the taper and threw away the sandalwood box. Thus the three are, to this day presumably, ensconced in the enchanted chamber beneath the Alhambra.

But enough of Irving’s tales. The Alhambra was actually constructed toward the end of Moorish presence in the Iberian peninsula. Ferdinand in Castile and James I of Aragon ruled the territory north of Granada. At the same time, Mohamed I, the first of the Nasrid line,  conquered Granada and drew the plan for the Alhambra. This was in 1238. The Nasrids proved to be the last, and longest lasting dynasty of Moorish rule in Spain. What in the eight century had been a single force that invaded Iberia soon splintered into warring factions. The divided and continually squabbling fiefdoms led to the Christian reconquest of the region.

By 1492 the Alhambra had been constructed and reconstructed, each new king adding his own embellishments. And in 1492 King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabella of Castile (yes, THAT Ferdinand and Isabella) had entered Granada with a superior force. Mohamed XII surrendered Granada without the Alhambra itself being attacked.

In 1492 Ferdinand and Isabella, in the Crown Room that we visited, granted Christopher Columbus the charter to sail for the Indies. 

Charles V visited the Alhambra in 1526 and decided to make it a royal residence. He ordered construction of the Palace of Charles V. Work began in 1527 and continued through1637. The roof went on in the 1920s. Needless to say, Charles never set foot in the place.

Today, the Alhambra is the number one tourist destination in Spain. And while it wasn’t terribly crowded it does have a well-developed tourist system to manage the crowds. We were blessed with a great tour guide who gave us just enough information so that we could appreciate what we saw without being overburdened by factoids. Which I have probably done, gentle reader, to you so now I will quit with sincere apologies and let the pictures tell the rest of the story.

Dinner was, believe it or not, Mexican tacos with all the 3 trimmings, made by our favorite chef from Rumania, and served in Spain. She has served us gourmet fare for the last three nights and we’re so very appreciative of her extraordinary talent and hard work.

By the way, I quit early (11:30 PM) last night and so this being our Chill day, I”m typing this sitting outside by our villa’s pool on a pleasant morning with my bride of 50 years lacking 17 days sitting by my side.

I failed to mention yesterday that Chefchaouen was founded in the late 15th and early 16th century by Moors and Jews who left Spain after the final conquest of the Moors in Granada by Christians in 1492 (Ronda itself was conquered in 1485). While some Moors and Jews were allowed to remain, under strict, discriminatory rules, all were forcibly expelled by Philip II in the late 1560s. Those fleeing the repression of the Inquisition and those expelled ended up in, among other places, in North Africa and in Chefchaouen in particular. 

Ronda, like much of Spain and Europe, was occupied by a series of external civilizations, notably the Phoenicians and later the Romans. Ronda has some remaining Roman evidence but much of the city was built during the Moorish occupation that began in 711 CE. After 1492 Ronda was under the control of various Spanish kingdoms and external rule by the Holy Roman Empire, Napoleon Bonaparte and so on. Bottom line: Ronda, like many places in the world reflects its complex history spanning thousands of years. We in the U.S. think 1492 of the beginning of history (conveniently neglecting the undocumented history of indigenous peoples before that date). In Ronda, 1492 is a relatively late date in the progression of history.

Jeff and I, along with my parents, Libby and Phil Rick, visited Ronda when Jeff was a teenager – maybe 28 years ago. We remember driving up in our rental car (from Tony in Malaga; that’s another story). Judy and Rebecca stayed behind because Rebecca wasn’t feeling well. We remember driving up through the mountains, parking near the Puerto Nuevo that spans the canyon formed by the Guadalevin river, walking by some sleepy shops to the bull ring and after a pleasant tour of the ring, returning to our condo on the Costa del Sol. 

Times have changed. The city has grown up and the tourist trade has grown to keep pace with the times. Downtown has been converted into a pedestrian promenade with several blocks of shopping. The bridge across the canyon is still there, of course, and still quite impressive. But the overall “sleepy mountain village” feel is gone. Ah well.

The drive from Marbella follows a winding road through the mountains with numerous vistas worthy of a snap or two of the trusty camera. It took about an hour and a half with heavy traffic leaving Marbella.

In Rondo we had a guide, Hernando, who took us on a walking tour through the town to the Puerto Nueavo from several vantage points. We also walked to the square that was the original Plaza del Torres – plaza of the bulls – where until the bull ring was constructed in 1784. The original square has a former Moorish mosque, later converted to a Catholic monastery, on one side and a Spanish military barracks on another side. These served as vantage points for viewing the fights. 

Hernando mentioned that when the Moors entered the Iberian peninsula their tactic was to bring a force of 20,000 men, a large contingent in the eight century. The Moors gave the mayor of each town an ultimatum: observe our rule and pay taxes while preserving your religion or we will destroy your town and its residents. It was an easy choice. Moorish conquest was a largely peaceful affair. 

I observed to Hernando that the Catholics didn’t take such a benevolent approach to the Moors and Jews when the shoe was on the other foot. “And don’t kid yourself, the attitude towards those groups is not different today than it was in the sixteenth century.”

Hernando gave us a tour of the bull ring and a detailed explanation of bull fighting, the footwork that leads to success and many such details that escape me only a few hours after hearing his lecture. What really sticks with me was his die-hard devotion to the sport. You’ll never find a football, basketball or hockey fan with more devotion to a sport as Hernando’s love of bull fighting. I asked him if bull fighting is still as popular today as it was in the past. “Yes. About 51% of Spaniards approve, 35% disapprove and 14% are indifferent.” “Will you attend the Ronda fights in September?” I asked. Hernando drew himself up like a matador about to drive the sword into the neck of the fiercest bull ever to enter the ring and said, “But of course. I always attend.”

We had lunch at a restaurant overlooking the Puerto Nuevo and back we came through the mountains for cocktail hour and an earlier-than-last-night’s paella feed. It’s Spanish barbecue tonight; the previous barbecue was some other variety; I’m anxious to find the difference. Based on the grub so far, it’s gonna be good. And then there’s always the sangria. 

 

Sunrise this morning came at 7:01, almost the exit moment the Rock of Gibraltar came into view as we drove south to Tarifa. We were out to meet our bus at 6:15 for the 1:30 trip. That’s where we caught the one-hour ferry across the Straits of Gibraltar to Tangier, Morocco. From there it Is about 2:30 to our final destination of Chefchaouen, the “blue city” of Morocco. 

Our guide on the Morocco leg gave us a rundown on the country.:

– Morocco has a history of outside influences, starting with the Phoenicians, the Carthaginians, Romans and so on. Southern Morocco was ruled by France, the  north by Spain. Morocco gained its full independence in the 1950s. Today it is a constitutional kingdom. The current king gave up

much of royal power when he succeeded his father in 1999.

– While predominantly Suní Muslim, Morocco’s law is civil; religion is between the individual and God and not the business of the state. 

– Over 50% of the population is indígenas Berber living in 17 tribal group across the nation. They live in largely rural areas operating small agricultural operations. A few in the south follow the traditional nomadic lifestyle, moving by camel and donkey from place to place. 

– Family ties are strong in Morocco. In our guide’s case his parents lived with him and his family until their deaths. This practice is common. 

– Our guide spoke about the five tenants of the Muslim religion: five daily prayers, charity to the poor, pilgrimage to Mecca in one’s lifetime, acknowledgment of a single God and observance of Ramadan. 

– Pilgrimage to Mecca is expensive ($7,000 and up) and on a quota system. Morocco is allotted 40,000 pilgrims per year. He sent his parents on their pilgrimage in 2001 when the cost was only $2,500. 

– Public education  through university is free. All workers have health insurance that covers 80% of private medical care. Unemployed individuals must rely on public healthcare. “Morocco is a third-world country but things are improving,” he said. 

The central part of old Chefchaouen, a town of 60,000 in total, is indeed a blue city. I’ll let the pictures do the talking. We had a lot of fun hiking up and down the narrow streets. Our guide said he had a Japanese tour group, we stopped so many times for pictures. 

After a Moroccan shish kabob lunch it was shopping time. Most went to the traditional shopping area. But Jeff, stymied in his attempt to make a purchase during the walking tour earlier, was bound and determined to find the decorative wall hanging he had seen. The guide, Jeff, Judy and I chased from one end of the town to the other without success. Judy and I bought a nice leather purse while we waited.  In the end Jeff found a similar and acceptable alternative, which he purchased. Later at the ferry he bargained himself into buying not one but two genuine cedar wooden domino sets. 

Now we’re on the ferry back home to Spain and a big paella feed when we get back a 9 PM. The sun is setting and the occasional glimpses of The Rock are quite attractive.

And the paella and all the fixings to go with it, exceptional even at 10 PM as it turned out. So stuffed with paella and the usual quantity of sangria, it’s time for bed to prepare for our Ronda excursion tomorrow.

By the way, it’s getting awfully late and I have processed only half of today’s pictures. I’ll try to get the rest up tomorrow!

“What? The yacht is not leaving the dock? That’s not what we signed up for. WE WANT TO GO CRUISING! ”

Today was scheduled to be Cruising on the Mediterranean day. But when we got to the dock the captain of our yacht, A young guy from Denmark, informed us that the seas were too rough and we couldn’t leave the protected harbor of Puerto Banus.

Jeff, who arranged this trip, had a prolonged and heated conversation with the boat’s owner, who happened to be on a charter in Morocco. Long story short, the yacht we’d originally been assigned was too small for the forecast sea conditions. The owner offered to Jeff the use of a larger (20 meter) boat that Jeff, logically assumed would better handle the waves. What was really offered, it turned out in the fine print, was a yachting “experience”, which meant that the yacht would remain in port. We could have our catered food, hang out on board, walk along the harbor and visit the myriad of high-end retail stores, etc. 

We came close to canceling the whole deal. It turned out that the bigger ship required a crew of three (we had but one person). The boat did not have a license to leave port. What kind of scam is this, anyway?

Eventually we elected to go with the flow, partake of the catered brunch and snacks (oysters on the half shell, etc.) and make the best of it. So instead of an adventure on the Mediterranean, we had a pleasant morning and afternoon in Puerto Bantus,, enjoying the harbor sights, doing some people and sports car watching, taking a walk or two and experiencing the yachting life without the ups and downs of the 1.5 meter (5 foot) waves. And as you can see from the photos, it was a pleasant experience after all.

We came home around 6:00 and most immediately hit the pool to cool off and prepare for dinner.

Dinner was a catered in affairs as it will be for the next three nights. It’s a great arrangement because we don’t have to transport ourselves to the restaurant and back, order and worry about food allergies, etc. Far more relaxing and convenient.

And what a feast it was. The theme was “barbecue” and you name it, it was barbecued. Steak, lamb, shrimp, sausage and chicken. Fresh baked bread, tomatoes, potatoes, green beens, asparagus,

Before that, we had appetizers that included a great gazpacho, cheese, tomato and mozzarella on a stick.

Mojitos flowed through snack and dinner time.

Finally, desert. Small cups of strawberry and chocolate compotes.

We’ve had two days of leisure now but tomorrow we’re going to make up for it with a travel day to Morocco. We’re on the bus at 6 AM and hope to be back in time for paella at dinner time.