As you can tell by the lack of accents I am writing this from outside Spain.
I am by now in Sienna. Sometimes on the road the schedule gets a little hectic and it is hard to find an internet connection. So here's some catch-up.
I'M ON MY OWN!
Our CIA group got to Madrid's Barajas Airport at around 2:30pm. I left the group and dodged my way through the crowd, asking for directions in broken Spanish, until I found the "left luggage" department. They have lockers there, in which after some confusion, I managed to leave all the extra accumulated stuff(ie bottles of wine, olive oil, Serrano ham, extra clothes the CIA trip required) in a long term locker until I get back.
I took several different subway trains to the Atocha train station for my trip to Seville. My new, lighter luggage was a real God-send while trying to negotiate all this I can tell you.
After taking the AVE (ah-bay) high speed train to Seville, I picked up my incredibly ugly rental car which I dubbed "El Feo" or the ugly one.
I drove through the Andulucian countryside as the sun started to go down, and finally reached the beautiful, white-washed hill town of Arcos de la Frontera.
This little town was way up on a high hill top with a sweeping view of the valley floor below. As its name implies it was part of a string of fortified towns along the border which kept the Moors( arab invaders from Africa) from sweeping further north and conquering the rest of Spain.I drove up the unbelievably narrow streets (with literally 3 or 4" on either side of my little car at some points) and finally found a hill-top parking lot. I managed to squeeze in a spot and went to my hotel.
The first night I stayed in a smaller, less expensive hotel. The staff were friendly and the room adequate. I struck up a friendship with the waiter/batender named Manuelo. Quite the personality. He tried out his fledgling English on me and I struggled along gamely in Spanish.
I wandered down the hill and found a little, local restaurant still open. Noisy
locals, their kids running around ducking beneath tables and rowdy grown-ups even at this late hour, were enjoying the night. I managed to find a seat at the end of the little bar. I wondered if that was a little unusual for a woman in Spain to be at the bar but had no choice as the place was full. A rather surly bartender took my food and drink order and I watched the local men chat-up two young women sitting at a table. Quite alot of flirting going on.
The next day I checked into my splurge hotel- the Parador in Arcos. Paradors are historic inns regulated by the government. While I waited for my room to be ready I went out to the broad, flagstone patio to enjoy the panoramic view. There I met a group of Brits who apparently lived in southern Spain part of the year. I got a coke and a lively conversation ensued. I absorbed all the advice and information I could.
This is one thing I have noticed is that I meet a lot of English-speakers and that really helps stave off loneliness.
The room at the Parador was fantastic. Strong hot shower. Fluffy pillow. Great air-conditioning. Ahhhhhh....
I spent the afternoon wandering around the backstreets of Arcos. Not alot of tourists. A little outdoor cafe or pastry shop around each bend. Fantastic.
I stopped to buy a pen and ink drawing by a local artist. I met an American family from Oregon who insisted on buying my beer. They gave me wonderful tips on Florence as they had just come from a week in tuscany.
I capped of my wonderful day with a dinner at the Parador dining room with a view of the valley. They bring you Manzanilla sherry and tapas. I had some Cava and a light salad with white beans and artichokes. Quite good.
Arcos was a wonderful choice. Unfortunately, as I was leaving town, inching s-l-o-w-l-y around corners on my way down hill, two local people impatiently tail-gating El Feo, I bumped a corner. Apparently this happens all the time. They have these ancient Roman post built into the corners because people are always bumping into buildings. I was pretty upset though.
Because of this accident, which made a 5 " dent in the back passenger door I decided to spend the morning looking for a repair shop to fix the dent. I was hoping it would be an easy fix. Apparently not. When I finally found an open repair place, after three tries, they said it would take at least two days for parts to arrive.
Oh well. By this time I decided to just go back to Seville, instead of going down to Gibraltar as I had planned, and turn in the car.
I ended up having to pay for the accident up front, in cash. I had thought they would go through my insurance but no. I called my wonderful parents and my mother came to the rescue, transfering some extra money into my bank account.
By the time I got back to Madrid that night, after having a loud argument(in Spanish) with a cab driver over the fare he had agreed on and then changed, I finally stumbled into my bed. Travel doesn't alwasy go the way you want it to.
Que sera, sera.
I flew out early the next morning to Venice.
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