Back from Spain and trying to recover from the jet-lag which always seems worse going East to West, at least for me.
I had investigated all the aspects of Spain that I thought I needed to know, but was still astonished, primarily by the geography. Those Pueblos Blancos are not hill towns, similar to Tuscan ones. No, they are mountain towns, nestled into granite, streets with pitches so steep some of them had handrails. The day we visited Zahara, we took a wrong turn, found ourselves on a road that wound through the mountains by a series by switch-backs, reached a peak of thirteen hundred and sixty-seven metres, before we descended again to Grazelema. Frightening but unbelievably beautiful.
I’ll write more when the fog clears.