Molino del Santo
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Travel Blogs from Benaojan
Help me Ronda, help help me Ronda!
Day 58 Ronda Today we have a whole day to explore Ronda. Unfortunately, early in the morning I discover that my credit card, which was cancelled after it got stolen, had fraudulent transactions on it prior to being stolen. Because I lost all my details when my bag got stolen, I have not been able to check it until now. I have to spend hours messing around trying to sort it out, still not sorted. How many more stuff-ups I wonder will ...
Rain in Spain doesn't fall only on the plain
... and is a funny man. He checks us in then we go out to look at Ronda. After a bite to eat we go for a wander.....wow! Loving Ronda. What a beautiful little town and we take a bunch of photos. The new bridge is spectacular at night, but the streets are equally lovely. There are people wandering around and it feels like a very safe place to be. We think Ronda is pretty special, but you be the judge, I'll post some of the photos from ...
The road to Ronda
... the beach without shoes since there are sea urchins. I found one (took a really mediocre picture), and I sure would not want to step on it.
There were a number of dogs on the beach. One that looked like our niece Sara's dog, just sunning herself on the beach like a little princess. There was a man and dog where the man was throwing rocks in the water and the dog was chasing them like a ball. Needless to say, the dog had nothing to ...
Part 2: The Irishman bites the dust
... people are losing their homes and lives. Montecorto is wet but not deluged to a destructive degree so the locals here are taking it in stride, umbrellas in hand instead of walking canes help them navigate the steep cobbled lanes. But we have been less adaptable. Huddled under our porch with blankets wrapped around us we have peered out at the cloudy vista checking the weather report for Vancouver and the Okanagan with envy. Both mornings I woke at about 6 – the night still ...
Andalucian Cycling: Part 1
... of the umbrella clad restaurants in the plaza and time to amble the cobblestones, gaze down at the valley below and up at the limestone karsts above.
Lunch was what you would expect – cold, subtly flavoured gazpacho, washed down with a wonderful glass of…well, a refreshing beer or glass of wine was wistfully imagined, but we still had a ride up to El Boyal – the pass above the town at 1103 meters. That accomplished – some faster than others, ...
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