Jen and Rebecca Leave the Plains in Spain and Flee for the Hills

We didn’t love Cordoba as an overall city, finding it a bit too modern, but we did love the old town and the Mezquita and the ruins.  We didn’t feel too remorseful bidding Cordoba farewell as we jumped back in the car and headed for the white hill town of Ronda.  Our GPS was a little spotty as the elevation climbed, but we managed to navigate there just fine.  (Thank goodness paper maps are still in existence!)  We walked down the central pedestrian thoroughfare to tour the first great bullring in Spain, in the birthplace of modern bullfighting.  Yes, this was our second bullring of the trip, and also the second bullring without any live bulls in attendance.  But, we did see the bullpens.  That counts, right?


Release the bulls!



Another bullring

We stopped for a delicious lunch of tapas (pan-fried goat cheese with carmelized red onions, tempura fried vegetables, more patatas bravas, and a tangine chicken with couscous) plus sangria before heading out to explore the rest of the old town.  We hiked down to the bottom of the canyon for views of the “old” bridge, “new” bridge and “Arab” bridge before realizing that meant we had to walk back up the hill!  Jen managed to convince Rebecca that we didn’t need to walk down the canyon on the other side of town as well, especially since we could occupy ourselves watching some sort of competition of people rapelling off the bridge into the canyon.  We went to a Catholic church built on the site of a mosque built on the site of a temple instead.  It was an eclectic mix of Gothic and Renaissance architecture, but the audio guide told us just what we should know.

The rapeller is that tiny spot in green on the New Bridge

View of the Old Bridge from the Arab Bridge

We were only a little late meeting the caretaker at our Malaga apartment (what’s up with caretakers being the parent of the apartment owner?)  Rebecca continues to impress herself with her ability to communicate in crappy college Spanish-III to mostly be understood.  (Yes, in fact, there are extra towels here…)  Finding the city center proved not very difficult (and was a pretty straight shot down the road).  We wandered until we found a tapas bar that looked good for dinner.  But the delicious smells and speedy service of the Italian restaurant across the street was too much to resist.  Spanish-Italian pasta is quite delicious!  Rebecca decided to try out our theory that if you order a beer, they bring you olives.  They don't, unless you ask.  But as a result, she tried the ubiquitous CruzCampos beer WITH her nightly wine, and she was pretty excited to have a drink in each hand.