Spectacular Ronda

Two weeks after the trip to Arcos de la Frontera, I and a 7 other girls from the group took a weekend trip to Ronda and the Sierra de la Grazalema National Park. Before arriving in Ronda, I had done a bit of research on the place, and from the pictures I'd seen, it looked like a very pretty little town. Ronda, as it turned out, is a little town, but it is not "very pretty." It is so much more than that; gorgeous, astounding, and dazzling come to mind. The town is a quintessential Spanish town, old white houses with yellow trim and red tiled roofs, cathedrals, plazas and fountains. All this situated on top of the real reason to visit Ronda. The town is split into two sections by a massive canyon, connected by the "New Bridge," which is all of 250 years new, as it was built in the 1750s. The bridge is undoubtedly the main attraction in Ronda, spanning the canyon both horizontally and vertically. From the city, you look out and see the bridge, and the ongoing mountainous landscape beyond it.

We spent the first day walking about the city, and hiking down into the canyon, trying to take photos that  would do justice to what we saw. When it began to get dark, we headed back to our hostel's common room to enjoy some Spanish wines, cheese, bread and cured meat. And after a bit of red wine, some girl talk and a lot of laughter, we went out to sample the tapas at a nearby restaurant which sold tasty tapitas (little tapas) for less than one euro apiece! All in all, a good day.

Here is the bridge, looking up from below.

The next day, some of us hopped into the rental car and took a trip into the Sierra de la Grazalema Park to do some hiking in the mountains. It was bitterly cold, but well worth it. It was a sunny, windy day, and the trail led us up and down hills covered in low scrub-brush, the occasional tree, the occasional cow, and white rocks poking up out of the ground all around. The hike led us directly through a goat farmer's pasture where we saw goats of all ages, completely unperturbed by the stream of tourists trickling through their home. And when I say goats of all ages, I don't just mean some kid goats and some adult goats. Had we been there a few hours earlier, we would have been just in time to witness the birth of two baby goats. As it was, when we got there, they were both struggling to stand up, and were still a little gooey looking. We found a couple more young goats, older than the newborns, but still soft, cute babies who didn't seem to mind a bit of attention. So, we got to pet baby goats while hiking in the Spanish mountains.

After the hike we headed home to Cádiz, listening to a mix CD of cheesy Spanish music from the 90s, and feeling quite pleased with our weekend's adventure.

One month.

¡Hola!

I have now been in Cádiz for one entire month, and I can hardly believe it. Life here is splendid. As is to be expected, I struggled with a bit of homesickness and culture shock, but moving past that took only a few days of taking in the sights, the sounds, the food and the language. My first two weeks were equally relaxing and exciting. I spent the time getting to know the other students in the program, and attempting to get to know my way around Cádiz. The latter was not particularly successful. Cádiz is a city on a small peninsula. It is the oldest city in Spain, and possibly the oldest city in Europe, and for centuries the city has had nowhere to grow but up. Today, to someone new to the city, it is positively a labyrinth of old buildings  towering over narrow cobblestone streets whose layout lacks rhyme or reason. While this adds to the charm and character of Cádiz, it makes getting lost one of your primary tourist activities for the first week or so.

The view from a tower in the middle of the city, to give you an idea of what it looks like.

Orange trees and old buildings are common sights in Cádiz.

Though I spent a good deal of time wandering the city wondering where I was, the first two weeks were also occupied by our first class, a language intensive every morning. Speaking Spanish is still difficult, but I can already see a huge improvement in my ability, especially in terms of understanding when others are speaking to me.

Southern Spain, despite being only 3 hours from Africa, is not a tropical place in January or February. And this year is no exception; all of Europe has been hit with a cold front from Siberia, and temperatures have been at record lows. The strange thing about the weather here in Cadiz, is that the best way to escape the cold is to go to the beach, an unthinkable act in Seattle in January. Although it is cold, generally in the 30s or 40s Fahrenheit, it has been sunny every day except two, and the sun is what keeps you warm. The houses certainly don't, all the houses here are old, and lack insulation or efficient heating systems, and most people have no heating at all inside. Bundling up with blankets is the common cure for coldness.

I've yet to do much traveling, though the second weekend almost half the students in the program went on a day trip to Arcos de la Frontera, a small town about 2 hours away from Cádiz. Arcos, as it is generally referred to, is a collection of white buildings surrounding stone castles and cathedrals, all perched on the top of a cliff.

The clifftop town of Arcos de la Frontera

Not much else to remark on from the first two weeks, just a lot of getting used to the language, the culture and the climate. Though I did learn one important lesson my second day here: do not eat oysters at festivals from street vendors.  My stomach did not appreciate my decision to slurp down a raw shellfish.

Probably enough for a first post, I'll be back to comment more soon!