Cordoba

On Monday, we set off to see a house in a village in the south of Cordoba province - less than an hour away. On paper, the house was ours. It met all our critera and the owners needed to sell. It even had an apartment for visitors (Perpetua!) or for FR's parents to come and stay as long as they wanted. And a pool.

And it was really lovely. However, the village, full of beautiful houses, was only occupied to around 30% and that with people over the age of 60. Nothing wrong with that per se but on a day that was a school holiday, we saw only two children in two hours - the village was without life.

We went to the neighbouring village, where there were schools but that was even less inspiring. The children were with us and they agreed it was just too quiet. It made us realise again just how lively and bustling Alcala  la Real always is and how very difficult it will be to find anywhere quite like it.

So we decided we'd just have a day out instead, rather than make any life-changing decisions

And we drove to Cordoba.

Cordoba is the home of the famous Moorish Mezquita and wonderful Andalucian patios filled with flowers and sweet-smelling plants. It is on the River Guadalquivir and the roots of the city go back for centuries. The Romans were there building their ubiquitous walls, bridges and roads. Then the Arabs came, in around the 8th Century, expanding the Great Mosque and building the wonderful royal residence at Medina Azahara. In the 10th and 11th Centuries, Cordoba was said to be the most populated city in the whole world and was certainly the intellectual centre of Europe.


Around two hundred years later, the Christians arrived, the Moors left and things started to change. The Mezquita was only 'tweaked' - most of its Moorish insides were left pretty much intact, fortunately. The Christians did, however, expulse the Jews - a while after they'd got rid of the Moors -  and as time went on this led to a financial and economical decline - not helped another few centuries later by Napoleon's visit - a not entirely friendly occupation. Not until the 20th century did Cordoba manage to reestablish itself as a University city with an acknowledged historical centre, declared World Heritage by UNESCO.

Gorgeous patio photo courtesy of nh hoteles

We arrived from the south and drove across one of the many bridges into the city, finding ourselves on a wide, six-laned carriageway. Swept along by the traffic, we could see to our right the ancient town walls which we were eager to explore. At a large roundabout, we returned the way we came and found a most convenient carpark, with plenty spaces, right opposite the old walls. The rain - which had passed over us most of the morning - had stopped and the sun was warm.


As we crossed the road and headed down some steps, through a big, warm-coloured, sandstone arch, we entered a pedestrian zone where the scent of orange blossom on the trees almost lifted you off your feet with pleasure. The streets were cobbled and seemed to get narrower as we walked parallel to the river towards the Mezquita and the Mediaeval Jewish quarter. It was overwhelmingly beautiful, dramatic and yet peaceful and elegant - giving off, to me at least, the most wonderful positive vibes. I have been once before, almost seventeen years ago, with my mother-in-law. We visited the Mezquita and walked around the ancient streets where I remember feeling as though I could sense the intellectual vibrations from centuries ago - it felt like a very learned place. On Monday, it still felt learned but it felt like a city that had learned how to have fun with that too.

I have fallen in love with Cordoba - and whilst the comparison doesn't hold much water - it reminded me of another place I always loved to visit in the UK. It reminded me of York. The colours were different, the climate was very different (I've never been warm in York!) and the previous inhabitants have varied - theVikings brought a different culture to the Moors and left a different inheritance - but there was something of the same confidence of a city with a past; with a huge, imposing and impressive place of worship; with a wide, energy-giving river running through it; and with a constant stream of visitors walking its historic pavements smoother and keeping that sense of history alive.

I shall go back to Cordoba soon. This time, I WILL take my camera with me.

Over the border

Ver mapa más grande

Alcala la Real is located in the southern tip of the province of Jaen. A little bit further south and you are in Granada. A bit to the west and it's Cordoba province you enter. Today has been the first sunny day for some time and so we promised ourselves a trip out.
Everyone around here says that Priego de Cordoba - about 35kms west - is a lovely place and we should go and see it and that's where we headed.

Everyone was right! It is a gorgeous place and after we'd parked up in a beautiful plaza, we took a stroll through a labyrinth of geranium-lined, white-housed streets.

Looking one way..

Looking the other..

Round the corner..

And round another.

I love geraniums - so I really loved this place!

Running around the east side of the town was a high 'balcon/mirador' - a balcony from which there was a view out across the countryside - and whilst a single camera shot cannot do justice to the sight, I took a snap anyway!

Deep in conversation!

 This is a sculpture showing a famous Spanish child actor and singer called Joselito. One of his most famous films,‘Saeta del Ruiseñor', was filmed in Priego de Cordoba. Whilst strange to my ears - and probably yours - it's worth spending a minute or so listening to the voice of this little boy. It's pure Andaluz. The saeta is a religious song sung during Semana Santa - in this case, Joselito is asking Christ to give sight to the blind girl who stands at his side - but the sound created is rooted in flamenco. Love it or hate it, it will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up!



And a photo of me, Romy and Ruy.
Romy eating - as usual - an ice-cream and Ruy trying to walk on the 'pavement' - and me in my new outfit, bought by my mum last time I was at home. Thanks mum!

From Priego de Cordoba, we headed back to Alcala la Real. About halfway between the two towns, you come to a smaller village called Almedinilla...it's taken me a bit of practice to say that right but I've got it now. Which is good because I'd really like to live there!
It has a lot of Roman history to it and is rather clean and well-heeled - unlike some villages around here.

We didn't expect the museum to be open but it seemed like a nice walk to go and look at it, so we set off, walking past a gorgeous rushing stream.

And when we reached the museum, there was a table set up with food - slices of pork, freshly barbecued, in crunchy bread, olives, crisps and drinks - for a group of walkers and cyclists. There was plenty left and we were invited to help ourselves! Guess who dived straight in...

And whilst we guessed right that the museum would be closed, the surroundings were absolutely stunning - full of herbs, poppies, orange trees, little streams and thyme-lined paths. We'll come back soon to see the inside.

Cypress-lined avenue

Romy really enjoyed her sandwich.
(They were very good!)

And poppies.

 

 

 

(And we're back in time for the tennis final between Nadal and Djokovic - live from Madrid! )

Another picnic in the pines

A tacit deal we have with the kids is that if we drag them out to view properties and they don't moan or make a fuss, we won't see a lot all in one go and we will have a nice picnic somewhere and probably an ice-cream too.

On Saturday, we had appointments to view two more houses. It doesn't matter where - we're not going to buy either of them.

After we'd viewed - both lovely and both with swimming pools, no less - we took a scenic route back towards home via Iznájar and the big embalse, or reservoir, that the town perches, rather precariously, above. (Can something perch above something else? Not sure about that but I´ll leave it for now.) Iznájar and its embalse are very impressive. As you approach from the south, the embalse - especially on a clear, sunny day - glistens turquoise blue, disappearing from view as you round the many bends in the road, only to reappear in a slightly different place. This effect is due to the many little inlets created along its shoreline, so it seems to be everywhere - sometimes to the right of you, sometimes to the left, sometimes straight ahead.  The town tumbles all the way down a hillside to meet the embalse and from the south, you have to cross a long straight bridge from which you can see a lovely beach area - and that's where we headed for our picnic.

View of the lake from our picnic spot

Set with pines at our back, we parked up the 'trusty' Volvo and settled down for a couple of hours. The weather made it feel like June and although there were plenty families with the same idea as us, it wasn't yet a crowded place to be and I liked it very much. After lunch, the children played some wild game in the pines - Ruy emerged with a stick and seemed to have regressed to a neanderthal stage of being - he stayed in character all the way home and even now, Monday, I caught him hunting a fish in the corridor of our apartment.

Looking down on the lake from Iznajar town

After ice-cream and coffee, we set off again via the scenic route, which took us into the province of Cordoba and the natural park of the Subbetica - new territory for us. It was a stunning and beautiful route and when we stopped briefly at the side of the road to have a little leg-stretch, I took what I think are some of the loveliest pictures of Ruy and Romy that I have ever taken. It was a bucolic spot, with the sound of hens and lambs in the distance and I felt that if we found a house just there, I couldn't be happier. (I'll have to look!)

We returned to Alcala from the west - a lovely way to come home as you have the view of La Mota for a good few kilometres, looking magnificent in the setting sunlight. And the town was very festive when we arrived home, with all the children (or a great many of them) playing in the plaza, jumping in and out of the fountains and generally enjoying the balmy evening. And yet again, it felt good to be home


  
.