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Lighthouses & Lobsters
Overcast and very windy today, although no sign of rain … yet. Drove out to Lobster Cove lighthouse
across the bay from Rocky Harbour. Flags whipping and clanking against the flagpole (wonder how often they need to be replaced?). Three letter flags spelled out L U N, so of course we asked the friendly Parks guy if they had any special meaning (they change them daily). Apparently today’s is a local word for ‘a sheltered spot’ . . . appropriate in view of the strong gusts and galloping whitecaps. The seagulls are loving it, but batten down your hats! Stunted, weather-leaning trees (Tuckamore) indicate the prevailing winds – but they sure provide welcome shelter as 
you walk along the cliff tops. Blankets of golden dandelions cover every grassy meadow and slope . . . tiny wild strawberry blossoms nestle in protected hollows . . . red and yellow-hued warblers sing lustily from sheltered branches and tiny (unidentified as yet) titmouse-type birds flip and dip in among the wild heather and blueberry bushes, tick-tick-ticking to each other, but never staying still long enough to photograph.The light was last manned for 69 years thanks to a father and son combination,
An Ugly Stick! before being automated sometime in the early 70s, but the keeper’s house is open for public viewing and is filled with great stories and artifacts . . . like the old canvas postbag that was used to rescue a baby girl from a shipwreck. An Ugly Stick and other homemade instruments available to play (if the urge took one) . . . and the old-fashioned stove which was in fact a cleverly disguised modern
digital variety!In need of sustenance (and some warming up) we espied a likely-looking local eatery, advertising moose burgers and lobster, and ordered steaming bowls of creamy fish chowder stuffed with huge chunks of salmon, cod and halibut, and mopped up with a crusty roll. The wind picked up and the building rattled and creaked . . . the waves in the bay instead of coming into the shore were actually being blown out to sea in a swath of spray, and the white caps further out raced to meet
them. Suddenly Glen leapt out of his seat and ran outside … he’d spotted a solid wooden rubbish bin blown over and start rolling down the incline towards one of the parked cars. “Gawd love ‘im, and dat’s my carre, too!” exclaimed the restaurant owner as she peered anxiously out the window, while two people were buffeted across the street.Figuring it was best to pick up the makings of dinner now, rather than battling the wind and rain again later, we drove all of 5 minutes to the fish plant at the end of the street. The seafood selection was extensive, if frozen – cod, halibut, salmon, prawns, scallops, kippers, shrimp,
Nooo … Don’t Do It!! flatfish. The crabs and lobsters, however, were fresh …. and lively. Four unlucky individuals were selected, their claws securely banded – fortunately, as they were not happy with this sudden change in circumstances. Transportation was not a problem – a stack of cardboard boxes was available . . . but did we have a big enough pot to cook them in? A local in the store suggested his method for cooking … however boiling for 30 minutes seemed a little excessive. We went with the Google option of 10 minutes, and it worked out perfectly.
Just the remains Cooking one at a time and chilling in the fridge until later, to be served with baked potatoes, baby carrots, lemon and butter plus bread to mop up the juices. Every succulent morsel was savoured fully . . . and fingers licked! Cherry cheesecake to finish. Pure decadence.
Kevin, Glen & Jennifer at the light 
Barry & Kevin 
Chowder restaurant (B) 
Rocky Harbour & Headland (K) 
Reminders to Lightkeeper -
Off to “The Rock”
I know it was Sunday, but I’m sure we set some sort of record this morning. A mere 1 hour & 20 minutes from leaving home and here we were, sat at the departure gate, with plenty of time before boarding … not bad for having picked up Kevin along the way, grabbed some outrageously priced airport food for on the plane and navigating the long lines at security.
The 737 Max 800 was a pleasant surprise … despite being full it had ample overhead storage for everyone’s luggage … no need to wander down the aisle, hopelessly searching for space and having to rearrange the usual assortment of overflowing carrier bags, octopus-like garments and someone’s rolled up holiday poster that can’t possibly be crushed. We emerged in Toronto reasonably unscathed, and texted Tim with the pillar number we and our luggage were standing beside, as the flurry of taxis, ubers or family members scurried in to scoop up waiting passengers before airport security shooed them off – it was like watching a busy ant colony. In a matter of minutes a dark SUV, complete with flashing amber light magnetically affixed to the roof, hove into view … and there was Tim. An ingenious (if perhaps not quite cosher) method of quickly identifying his vehicle from the hundreds of similar cars in a never-ending circuit.
A delicious meal accompanied by Tim’s EXCELLENT freshly baked bread and it was off to bed as we’d need to get up at some ungodly hour before dawn tomorrow. Alarms went off as scheduled (far too early) and we gathered, groggily, for a quick cup of coffee before being bundled off to the airport. Once again we made astoundingly good time through security (despite three of us having various articles of luggage sidelined for further inspection).
Fortunately the dire predictions of cold and heavy rain didn’t materialize as we landed on Deer Lake’s
Approaching Deer Lake solitary runway under merely overcast skies. (You know it’s a small airport when the plane taxis a U-turn mid-runway to return to the terminal.) While Glen sorted the car we three perused the pamphlets. “There’s lots and lots of icebergs” said the tourist lady enthusiastically from behind the counter, “and a YUGE one … bigger’n the island it’s next to”. Good news indeed.
Being lunch time we were suitably hungry, so passed up on the Tim Hortons, Wendy’s and local truck stop, and instead tried Mary Brown’s Chicken. An
excellent choice, as it turns out, but strangely no coffee available! Next door’s drive through provided something akin to coffee … well it was dark brown …. but it was hot and wet, and presumably had some caffeine.Replete, we set off for Rocky Harbour in the midst of Gros Morne park. Newly leafed birch trees created huge swathes of pale spring green in the darker evergreens covering the surrounding hills. Dozens of tumbling, rocky streams or brooks criss-crossed the area — as can be seen in the place names …. Cornerbrook, Rocky Brook, Middle Brook, Bottom Brook, Dick’s Brook, etc. … we lost count at about
eight.The small, neat fishing village of Woody Point with dramatic backdrop of dark, flat hills known as The Tablelands …. still streaked with stark white snows. Stacks of logs, being stored for winter use …. two curious amphibious vehicles, their rusted and flat tires evidence of long misuse. A fishing boat just unloading the day’s catch of lobster … and the inevitable rustic, dilapidated waterfront
Lobster Boat shacks on sagging docks strewn with lobsterpots and colourful floats. Such wonderful photographic material.
Rocky Harbour – our home for the next two days – was a quaint, well-kept town of rainbow-coloured houses, local craft shops filled with hand knitting, coastal paintings, glassware and such. Several handy convenience stores well-stocked with groceries, fishing supplies, tourist gifts, T-shirts, beer and hardware . . . and friendly, helpful staff who drop everything to assist pesky visitors “from away”. We stocked up on a few basics like milk, bread and cereal.
A rocky shoreline draped in vibrant brown and orange seaweed, multi-coloured Adirondack chairs for
those wishing to watch a sunset or two, and a small, windswept graveyard, the headstones white against the grassy headland.Travel weary and jet lagged we relaxed, napped or read for a couple of hours before heading over to the hotel for dinner. Monday nights the pub closed at 8:00 pm whereupon a local band – “Anchors Aweigh” took over for rousing Newfoundland songs, stories and banter. As suggested we arrived an hour before to partake in dinner, but the place was packed to bursting point. Still, they found us a table, took our orders and we sat back to enjoy the show. About an hour in, just as they
were really getting into their stride and the audience was doing a stellar job of singing all the choruses … the power suddenly went out, leaving us all in darkness – apart from some cell phones. We waited a while, bar service continued and nobody seemed to mind, but it became apparent that the outage was not just local and it was unknown when power might return. By this time our beds were calling quite strongly, so we wended our way through a dark maze of tables and people’s feet out to where the sky was still light, and strolled home.
Leaving Victoria 
The Wrong Trousers! 
Amphibious no longer! 
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Rabo de Toro
Rabo de Toro (Bull’s Tail or Oxtail Stew)
Serves 4 — Needs 3-4 hours of long, slow cooking
- 3-4 lbs of Oxtail (beef short ribs, or stewing beef)
- 3 large Carrots, sliced
- 1 large Onion, diced
- 1 Red Pepper, diced
- 1 good-sized Leek, diced
- 2-3 Ripe Tomatoes, diced (or use canned)
- 4 cloves Garlic
- 2 cups Beef Stock
- 3 cups good Red Wine
- 2 Bay Leaves
- 2 Cloves
- 1 tsp Paprika
- Salt & Pepper to season
- Flour to coat
- Olive Oil
- Heat a good splash of Olive Oil in a heavy pan (cast iron is good)
- Season Oxtail with Salt and Pepper, and lightly coat in flour
- Sear on all sides over a medium heat (about 30 seconds each side) till golden brown.
- Remove meat and set aside to rest.
- Add Leek, Onion, Garlic, Red Pepper and Tomatoes to pan (add more Olive Oil if needed) and saute about 10 minutes.
- Add Carrots, Bay Leaves, Paprika and Cloves – saute 1 minute more
- Return Oxtail to pan and pour in Wine and Stock – liquid should totally cover the meat
- Bring to a boil then reduce to a simmer – cover and continue to cook on low for 3-3½ hours, checking periodically to prevent scorching. Casserole can be baked in a 250C oven instead, or in a Pressure Cooker, with time adjusted. Meat should be tender – almost falling off the bone.
- Carefully remove meat (also the Cloves and Bay Leaves). If there is too much fat, skim off, then puree the sauce with a hand blender and adjust flavouring.
- Serve over Rice, Mashed Potatoes … or as in Spain over Roasted Potatoes.
- Flavour is even better the next day. Freezes well.
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Paella a la Valenciana
The word Paella refers to the round, shallow metal pan the dish is cooked in … the all-important question is, what should go into an authentic paella? As you can imagine, this seldom brings two answers the same. The original paella came from the shores of the Albufera river near Valencia and consisted of beans, snails and eels along with rice, olive oil and water. What locals of the time had in plentiful supply. Today, Valencians will throw up their hands in horror at the Barcelonan style of paella – which contains almost every kind of meat, fish, shellfish, sausage and vegetable – and remain steadfast in their principle that simplicity is best. They consider red pepper overpowering and wouldn’t dream of mixing chicken and fish!
The recipe below is somewhat of a compromise, but feel free to add whatever ingredients you have to hand … after all, that was the true origin of paella.
PAELLA VALENCIANA – servings 4-6
- 4-6 chicken thighs
- small section of Chorizo sliced (other sausage or ham is fine too)
- 1/3 cup olive oil
- 1 medium tomato, peeled, deseeded and chopped (or canned diced with liquid removed)
- 2 cloves Garlic, minced or grated
- 1-2 tsp of Paprika (I add a little smoked Paprika as well)
- 1 cup Green Beans, chopped
- 1/2 cup of Red Pepper, diced
- 1/2 cup Peas
- 2 cups Rice (short grain is traditional, although long grain is quite acceptable)
- 4 cups of boiling water or stock with a good pinch of Saffrom
- 12 large Prawns (cooked or raw) you could use Mussels or Clams
- Salt and Pepper to taste
Using a large frying pan, season chicken with salt and pepper and fry briskly in olive oil over a moderately high heat till browned. Add the tomato, garlic, beans, peas and sausage. When this has browned a little reduce heat to medium and add the rice and paprika, mixing well. Continue to fry while water/stock comes to a boil. Add hot liquid to rice mixture and stir briefly to mix (don’t overmix or rice will become sticky). Adjust seasoning and cook on high for about 5 minutes (careful not to burn). Arrange prawns or shellfish on top. Cover with a lid and turn heat way down – I actually turn the heat off), and allow to cook slowly for 12-15 minutes. If the rice has not absorbed all the liquid at this stage you can remove the lid and briefly turn the heat on just a touch. Do not be tempted to stir, or the rice will turn mushy.
Let rest 3-4 minutes before serving.
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The Classic – Flan
After 8 weeks in Spain, this simple, but delectable dessert, eluded us. Every restaurant inquiry brought the same response – Lo Siento, no. There were stacks of manufactured versions available in every supermarket with flavours ranging from chocolate, coffee, orange and plain … and some were quite good … BUT these were not the quality I remember (or make at home). So here is the recipe I use – simple, easy (as long as you get the caramel right) and delicious.
6-8 Servings (depending on size of dishes) – Salmon Canning Jars or small heat-proof dishes, greased
- 2/3 cup of Sugar (for caramel)
- 1 cup Sugar (for custard)
- 4 cups whole Milk
- 4 large Eggs – room temperature
- 1 cinnamon stick broken in pieces
- 1 large piece of fresh orange peel
Preheat oven to 375C.
Simmer milk slowly for 10 minutes with 1 cup sugar, orange peel, and cinnamon stick – do not boil. Meanwhile make the caramel by melting 2/3 cup of sugar in a small, heavy-bottomed saucepan over a medium-low heat. Watch constantly and shake pan back and forth so that sugar turns an even medium brown colour as it melts, but doesn’t burn. IMMEDIATELY pour a little caramel into each dish — don’t worry if it doesn’t cover the bottoms entirely – it will during baking.
Let milk cool for a few minutes before straining into gently beaten eggs – STIR constantly while adding to prevent ‘cooking’ the eggs. Blend well and re-strain to remove any solid ‘eggy-bits’. Carefully pour mixture into dishes and remove any air bubbles.
Place filled molds into a large pan of cool water — water should cover the bottom 2/3 of molds. Loosely cover with a sheet of foil and bake in centre of oven for 30-45 mins or until done — custard should jiggle like a jelly. If water starts to boil, but the custards are not cooked, just add a little more cold water.
Carefully remove custards and allow to cool to room temperature before chilling in the fridge. To unmold, gently run a knife around the sides of the custard, place a plate over the dish and quickly invert. Give a good, hard downward shake, until you hear it loosen and you’ll see all that luscious sauce as you gently lift the dish. There may be be a layer of hardened caramel left behind – but just soak in wash water – it will dissolve. Custards can be served with a dollop of whipped cream . . . but they are perfect as is.
Other flavours:
Orange & Lemon – remove cinnamon and add peel from half an orange and half a lemon
Vanilla – omit cinnamon stick. Add vanilla bean broken in pieces or a tsp of essence.
Rum – replace cinnamon and peel with 3 tblsp of Rum and half a vanilla bean.
Coffee – omit cinnamon and peel, and replace with 3 tblsp of strong espresso coffee.
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The Capital – Madrid
We could see the train station from the end of the street so it was a mere 10 minute walk, trundling our cases behind. The easiest check in ever, and a smooth journey north.
Definitely cloudier and cooler in Madrid … glad of our jackets now. Majestic buildings sporting huge heraldic beasts wherever you look. Glen skidded to a stop in front of one store front … “Look!” he exclaimed … “a spring store”, and sure enough a shop selling every type, size, shape, colour and vintage of mechanical spring. Who knew!
Our apartment for the next 3 days is right in the heart of the city … walking distance to all the museums, like the Prado … vast city parks …. there are 46 public markets if one felt so inclined. As the weather was predicted to turn rainy, we dumped our bags and went out to explore. Elegant, well-kept buildings in pastel shades — their shutters and balconies a darker contrast. A market place designed by Monsiuer Eiffel himself .. not your usual market — this one was upbeat and trendy with counters groaning under a mouth-watering array of ready-to-eat tapas. Might be good to try later.
Madrid’s massively domed cathedral sat directly opposite across the square from the Royal Palace. Resplendent behind black and gold gates, it presented an impressive view with its 3000+ rooms and vast courtyard. Reportedly the largest palace in Europe.
As darkness fell, lights sprang up all over, and a gentle rain began to fall. We ducked into a small restaurant called Gloria Bendita … gloriously eclectic, but with wonderful aromas wafting out of the kitchen and attentive staff. We ordered a vegetarian ‘tartare’ salad … tiny chunks of mango, avocado, onion, cilantro and citrus … bursting with freshness and flavour. This was followed by pork cheeks simmered in a rich house sauce of umami-goodness and topped with strands of crisply deep fried onion. It was so good, that if we were at home, the bowl would have been licked! Thankfully there was a basket of warm bread rolls to mop up all that deliciousness. A small portion of the salad was waiting to be finished, when the waiter began to clear it away … “Nooo!” we cried in unison. He grinned and backed away. Small glasses of digestif were brought with the bill … a chilled, homemade version of Bailey’s Irish Cream … but oh, so much better.
The rain had stopped, and it was a pleasure to walk home through glistening streets splashed with colour from the shopfronts.
There was a breakfast delicatessen/bakery/coffee shop Granier just steps away from the apartment, so Glen descended in the funny, creaky elevator and went in search of coffee. Came back with croissants as well! A day starts off really well with good coffee and probably the BEST croissants we’ve ever had … even in France.
Colder today, and although not raining, it looks as though it could so we pocketed some disposable rain capes just in case. We’re off to the Prado — time for a little culture — but the aromas from a small bakery (Levaduramadre) assailed us first and we just had to buy some meat pies for lunch first. It’ll be a carb overload today, but who cares!
Autumn has arrived … all the leaves are being blown around by a chilly wind. Boaters on the pond looked positively frozen … but the ducks and geese seemed to be having fun. We found a reasonably sheltered bench in the big central park to consume our delicately spiced beef pasty. There’s a definite police presence around the city, even here in the park. I gather there was a huge protest with hundreds of thousands, just before we arrived. All the streets and shops now are being seriously decorated for La Navidad … lights strung across the streets … beautiful living ‘Christmas trees’ made up of colourful potted plants … all the squares and plazas are a hive of activity as cranes maneuver large festive panels and figures into place. This in addition to the other restorations taking place all over the city.
The Prado … is wonderful … even for non art connoisseurs. It’s helpful to see whole collections by a single artist to get a feel for their skill and style. All the major artists were there (only one Picasso though), but many of the lesser known painters were well represented too. Unfortunately, like most exhibits … photography is not permitted. This is a brilliant link to all the collections though: https://www.museodelprado.es/en/the-collection/ It was a truly memorable visit. The rain capes came in handy on the way home.
The next day started dry so we hopped aboard local buses and explored some more . . . however many of the ‘must see’ attractions – like the Plaza Mayor appeared to be under renovation and were cordoned off, and it was difficult to move against the tide of people heading in the other direction. The rain returned with a vengeance … and perchance we found ourselves outside Gloria Bendita again. This seems to be our bolthole in the rain. Coffee and a simple but delicious dish of beautifully roasted potatoes drizzled with a creamy piquant sauce, whiled away the time before our tour of the Royal Palace. Perfect for a rainy afternoon.
Visitors had to go through security, so we fumbled our way out of dripping rain capes and deposited our belongings onto the x-ray conveyor belt before being allowed entry. And goodness … what an entry hall and staircase! Again, no photography allowed, but you can see some here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Palace_of_Madrid Not the best quality video but gives you an idea. Best viewed on a smaller screen: https://youtu.be/0mC_nEBJeQI Every room had ceiling paintings and was decorated with different coloured marble — red, green, golden brown. All the artwork had gilded frames … there were exquisite silk wall coverings and antique vases from China tucked in corners. I gather it is no longer the actual residence of the Royal family, but used for State events. It would certainly be intimidating to live in such a place — hardly cosy!
We’ve come to the end of our time in Spain … 8 wonderful weeks … and so many memories to take home. Thankfully we decided to leave extra early and take a taxi to the airport. We chatted to the driver as he weaved through the morning rush hour (our last chance to practice Spanish), and arrived at 9:20 … our flight didn’t leave for 3 hours. We checked our bags and figured it best to get security checks over and done with. The scene that greeted us was far more chaotic than other airports … lines of passengers everywhere … a shortage of trays for belongings … huge bags being stuffed through x-ray machines (isn’t it supposed to be carry-ons only?) … security personnel halting passengers and wiping down hands (back and front) AND waists!!!! What was that for? I had forgotten to remove my money belt, so there was a great excitement as I was to go back and put it in one of our trays – which was rapidly disappearing through the scanning machine flaps. What if it fell out and got jammed? The inside of my backpack was examined and wiped . . . but not Glen’s.
With all our belongings finally collected and reassembled we went off to look for our gate area. In the elevator – we and our fellow passenger peered hopefully at the panel – nothing was immediately obvious which button to push, so we tentatively pressed a few. Arriving one level down it became clear that we now needed to board a train to get to gates M and S. An hour and 15 minutes had elapsed by this point.
Onto the train … up the escalators … more shuffling line-ups … this time for passport checks — and just like at supermarkets, you always end up in the slowest line. Finally through, there was still a long walk to reach gate S-11 and we arrived with just enough time to visit the washrooms before boarding the flight. Three hours, and we needed every minute!
Farewell Spain … we’ve LOVED every minute of our journey … well, maybe not Madrid airport. I’d give it a miss if I were you!
One of the grand buildings – I think it was the ministry of agriculture 
A spring store — who knew 
A counter of tapas to eat in or take out 
More tapas 
One of dozens of ‘Christmas’ trees 
Learn to carve jamon 
The Royal Palace 
I want one of these but I don’t think he’s for sale 
Some of the colourful and elegant buildings 
Avocado, mango, red onion and orange ‘Tartare’ salad 
Slow roasted Pork and fried potatoes 
No … I don’t know what she’s doing either 
Far too cold for boating 
Reportedly the best place to buy a ‘Torta’ … just weeks after we got home they had a massive outbreak of Salmonella! 
Found standing at Madrid airport – did he take a wrong turn at Mexico? -
Farewell to Granada … and a night in Malaga
A quieter day . . . discovered the loveliest gardens … Carmen de los Matires (Carmen of the Martyrs). Set in their own forest just below the Alhambra. https://www.inspain.org/es/granada/granada/carmen-de-los-martires/
We had the place all to ourselves at first … so tranquil and quiet. A hidden grotto behind a waterfall … patios … formal gardens … an aqueduct supplying water to the whole estate … pomegranate trees in blossom (who knew the flowers were the same shade as the fruit) … a lake with its own castle folly … extensive herb beds … peacocks on the window ledges. What a magical garden this would be for children (not bad for adults too).
For our last evening we had tapas at Meson Andaluz sitting on high stools at a table in a vibrant alleyway Taverna, watching the world go by and listening to strolling musicians .. some were quite talented. Once again free tapas with each beer … jamon drizzled with olive oil on slices of bread … slices of potato torta. Waiters keeping track so you always received a different one. We also ordered a plate of very large prawns on a green salad. Delicious.
Strolling back to the apartment we passed a luthier (sadly closed) with rows of beautiful hand-made guitars … and a plaza with statues and fountains ablaze with lights. Each of the public benches were different … some had companionable bronze statues to sit beside … others with ‘comfortable’ bronze cushions to lean against. Quite fun.
Not so fun was extracting the car from the parking spot the next morning. The underground parking garage was compact in the extreme and had necessitated two sharp right-angled turns to enter, and then literally inching back and forth between 4 concrete posts and a car directly in front of ‘our’ allocated spot. The width between posts only allowed a foot spare on either side … this was ‘helped’ tremendously by the garage being plunged into total blackness every 3-4 minutes as the lights turned off in power-saving mode. One had to shuffle forwards, hands extended till a post was encountered … sometimes abruptly … and the switch pushed. We got smart and kept a flashlight handy. This process was repeated in reverse when we left. Thirty-five agonizing minutes and several very close calls later, we drove out … with many more gray hairs.
Needing to return the car to Malaga we booked an overnight stay, and drove through the Sierra Nevada mountains amid incredible scenery. High curving highways over dams and reservoirs – like Viaducto la Loma, https://www.adurcal.com/enlaces/mancomunidad/guia/puentes/rules/mayo05/index.htm (scroll down for views), deep folded valleys with villages gently cupped at their bases … out to the towns of Motril and Salobrena. This area of the coast is scenic and unspoiled.
The apartment in Malaga was …. outstanding. Called Luxury Apartment, they weren’t kidding. Dazzlingly clean… quality everything… two bathrooms … a lift right to your door … private patio on the roof. What’s not to like? And we only have one night there! Car returned to airport without a hitch and we relaxed on the patio sipping chilled sparkling wine, courtesy of the hosts. Train to Madrid in the morning.
Ferny Grotto 
Garden viaduct 
Island Folly 
Pomegranates growing 
Luthier’s Window 
Tapas Bar 
Wonderful gambas 
Inviting bench – a little on the hard side 
Rooftop Patio in Malaga with bubbly -
The Alhambra
What a gorgeous morning. Transit buses take you right up to the Alhambra — you could walk, but it’s a pretty steep uphill climb. Our tickets for the Nazarine Palace were for noon, and we soon made our way through the line-ups and multiple passport and security checks.
The Alhambra was … well, The Alhambra! Standing proud on it’s cragg with the city spread out below and a backdrop of the Sierras. Magnificent. Without question this has to be the finest example of Moorish architecture in Spain. Intricate carved ceilings made from thousands of pieces of wood … gloriously tiled walls … exquisite molded archways … reflecting pools to sit a contemplate . . . and of course the famous lions fountain. This was being worked on during our visit, but with some careful camera angling we managed to edit out the technician with his computer <grin>. I can remember standing beside this very same fountain as a little girl, but it’s roped off to visitors now. Rick Steeves has a good short video showing the Alhambra: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEseJViidy8
The Generalife Gardens were a welcome break from crowds of people taking photos and selfies. What is it about cell phones that brings out all the narcissistic drama queens, posing with arms outstretched, or pouting coyly into the camera at every view? <sigh> Gardeners were busy trimming hedges using rulers to obtain just the right height and straightness … or raking up the leaves which had just begun to fall. Some hedges were trimmed in a wave pattern – quite effective from a distance. Fall flowers and the sound of water was everywhere.
King Carlos V’s palace was an imposing square building with gigantic rings – like huge door-knockers in the beaks of eagles or mouths of lions – all around the outside walls. Inside was an unexpected two story circular edifice — probably with excellent acoustics. It now houses the Alhambra museum.
We meandered our way back down the hillside into town – through tree-shaded avenues edged with tiny channels of water gurgling along beside the road. In the square we sat munching a tasty kebab while waiting for the hop-on-hop-off ‘train’ … I think I mentioned that driving and parking around the old town area was murderous – so this was an easy answer. Unlicensed vendors had set up numerous displays of ‘genuine’ high-end shoes, handbags, jewelry etc. on blankets all along the plaza, hoping for sales. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity … blankets and contents were scooped up … and the vendors were hightailing it out of square at top speed as two police cars screeched to a halt and two officers gave chase. There were too many back alleyways and the police returned empty handed. Minutes after they had left we noticed a guy in a wheelchair looking around and making phone calls . . . and sure enough, the street sellers showed up. This is exciting, we thought. The cops were smart though … they waited until the displays were nicely back in place … and raided again. Sadly the bus came along right at that moment, and we didn’t see the outcome.
It was rather pleasant trundling around the city, hopping off to explore further, or take photos. A mid afternoon break at a sidewalk cafe was somewhat spoiled by a constant stream of ‘vendors’, waving merchandise for sale. But ’twas nothing more than a minor annoyance.
Inside the Alhambra 
A reflecting pool 
Carved doorway 
Lion fountain 
Intricate ceiling 
Green and tranquil courtyard 
Generalife Gardens 
Lion door knocker? 
Hop on bus through town -
Granada – Cave House
The first 24 hours in Granada were … shall we say, interesting. Feeling somewhat adventuresome, we had booked a cave house. Now, who wouldn’t want to stay in a cave? Located high on a hillside, literally overlooking the Alhambra Palace … but we needed to get there first. Chandra (the owner) had given us detailed driving instructions as Google often sent prospective renters to the wrong area. Granada is NOT the easiest city to navigate. Traffic lights are not always located right at intersections … they can be beforehand … or around a curve in the road — causing Google to hesitate before giving turn instructions. The small hillside community of Sacromonte (where we’ll be staying) is on the east side of Granada, and is the traditional suburb of the Granada gypsies or gitanos. There are still flamenco shows held in the caves and restaurants, and people have been living in caves here for hundreds of years. One has to keep in mind that it closes twice a day to incoming traffic (not quite sure why) … 11am to 2pm and then again between 8pm and midnight, however vehicles can leave at any time. Presumably to limit the amount of traffic — especially as they do walking tours of the area – both day and night ones. Our arrival coincided with the 2:00 pm reopening and kids getting out of school, so we entered on a tidal wave of people, cars and tradesmen into the minuscule neighbourhood — a bit daunting when you don’t know where you’re going. After a series of phone calls to Chandra (most of which cut out after a few minutes – phone reception here is atrocious) we eventually found a parking space and hoped our car would still be there when we left.
We had been warned that suitcases would have to be left in the car and that we’d be walking up the hillside with only backpacks and things we could carry, so we took essentials and left the rest in the car. Then, working solely from pictures with arrows, we started our way up stairs, around corners, up slopes and more stairs … all the while avoiding a veritable carpet of dog droppings . By this point it had started to rain and the cobblestones became very slippery as we trudged ever upwards. We had to backtrack a couple of times, and ask for directions. More interrupted phone calls, and the enlistment of a neighbour’s son (who spoke no English). At last number 95 hove into view … now to get the key dropbox to work. It was small and up so high in the door frame that even Glen had to stand on tippy-toe to reach it. Six tries later, the keys were still securely inside and we stood damply outside. But then … Success at last … we were in.
Each cave is individual, with no set plan. Residents would have excavated additional rooms as necessary and interiors painted with many layers of whitewash to both seal the surface and make it brighter and lighter inside. Windows are along the outward facing wall – usually kitchen, living room while the rest of the house extends underground. Temperature inside stays pretty constant throughout the year … nice in summer, but probably pretty cold in winter. There are portable heaters now, but electricity is limited and you can only run one power hungry appliance at a time. Floors are usually tiled and a little uneven, so furniture can be a trifle wonky at times. Wall recesses act as storage or shelves and there can be a step or two between varying levels. Understandably these are compact and quirky abodes, but that just adds to the overall charm. And what an experience! I don’t imagine it was easy to wire a cave house for electricity or internet … but you certainly couldn’t hear the neighbours! This link gives a great tour of cave houses. https://www.thewildlifediaries.com/sacromonte-caves-granada/
The area seems to be a mix of mostly long term residents but with a certain ‘hippy’ vibe in places. Walking through on our way to town that evening we encountered several of the evening walking tours as they clattered up and down the steep lanes, or took photos of the Alhambra lit up at night (it is an amazing sight).
In “our” cave, the living room and bedrooms were comfortable and authentically decorated. However, the kitchen, bathroom and outside patio were decidedly less so. I don’t think we’re picky or hard to please … small, compact and quirky is great … what’s NOT acceptable, though, is lack of cleanliness … and certainly not for the prices charged. This was the 2nd most expensive of the entire trip. The bathroom consisted of a toilet and crudely tiled shower area, no glass in the window – just a wooden shutter (the light worked, sometimes) and mouldy walls. It was freezing in there – especially for nighttime visits! The sink was in the entry way and badly cracked. In the kitchen things were not much better … greasy residue on cutlery, plates and mugs … cracked knife handles … broken utensils … stale food items from previous renters.
The dustpan was beyond redemption – the dust just fell through the cracks. The patio also fell short of the lovely photos portraying an arbor-covered eating and sitting area with spectacular views of the Alhambra Palace virtually within touching distance. The views were there alright … but nobody had cleared the area of the decaying grapes which smothered every surface. And the artificial turf underfoot, which was obviously the haunt of every neighbourhood cat, made sitting and enjoying the views most unpleasant. I’m afraid one night was enough of cave dwelling – we found a very nice apartment in town. Not the views … but at least bums didn’t freeze to toilet seats at night! This place could have been exceptional … all it needed was a little care and cleanliness. Sacromonto is a delightfully picturesque village with lovely and sometimes quirky houses everywhere. One house apparently has so many photos taken, that owners have put up a table outside demanding payment!
As I mentioned, Granada is NOT the easiest place to navigate. And parking is a nightmare, especially when multiple ticket machines don’t function … leaving people aimlessly punching buttons and hoping something works. Parking attendants just shrug … or hide! We eventually found a place and went exploring – our apartment wouldn’t be ready till later. The sun was out, but up here in the mountains it was still a touch chilly … so we found a sunny cafe and had lunch.
The apartment was luxurious by comparison – especially the bathroom! That evening we found a nearby taverna … a real mix of clientelle. Groups of younger professionals … older men gathering over beer to put the world to rights, or watch the football game between Cadiz and Madrid … groups of women of all ages, sipping wine or beer as they chatted. Everyone seemed to know everyone else. There was lots of cheek kisses, hugs and back slapping. It was a comfortable, noisy, fun place. The basket of mixed fried seafood went down well, too. Tiny, crispy herrings you popped into your mouth whole and scrunched up … prawns … squid … and chunks of (we think) deep fried dog fish. It had that chewy, slightly ‘sour’ flavour. Can’t say I’m a fan, but it was fresh, and the rest was delicious. The beer came with a free tapa too. Granada is (apparently) the last major city in Spain offering free tapas with the beer.
Hall and Living room, Cave House 
Bedroom 
View down at other cave houses 
Alhambra at night 
Early morning view of the Alhambra from the cave house 
House in Sacromonto covered with plates 
The Alhambra Hotel hasn’t changed a scrap in 60 years! -
Sand Dunes and Tapas
Thinking we could stop for a coffee and croissant before taking the ferry back to Tarifa, we packed up early and made for the elevator (we were on the 9th floor). The key fob sensor that had to be used to go up … was also needed to punch in the number for going down. The door began to close … then stopped just a couple of inches shy of shutting. We tried again. Nope. After ten or so tries, we gave up and looked around for the stairs. Um, where are they? There were two other apartments on this floor, and two unmarked wooden doors with no handles. A tentative push of the nearest one — aha – we have stairs. Met the apartment manager on his way up in search of the problem.
It’s a 25 minute walk to the ferry terminal so no time to stop for coffee. We’ve thoroughly enjoyed our time here — the only thing we won’t miss are the hair-raising road crossings … the red and white striped markings don’t help in the least!
The voyage back to Tarifa was delightful. No passport control line-ups, there are comfy seats, great views and good coffee.
I was curious to see how the area between Gibraltar and Estepona had changed over the years … it won’t be the sleepy fishing village any more. Surprisingly, there’s a stretch of shoreline near the town of Milneva, just south of Estapona, which is relatively untouched by the Costa del Sol tourism machine. A quiet beach with natural walking trails, an eco-reserve for wildlife and plants … just the sound of gentle waves with distant views of Estepona around the curve of the bay.
Feeling hungry, there happened to be a Burger King handy … not our first choice of food establishment, but it was close by. Yikes, the prices! Nine euros for a mediocre burger … I think not! We drove on and found a quiet corner bar and ordered tapas and a small beer each. And what tapas they were too! Four to start with … meatballs in a tangy tomato sauce … pulpo (octopus) salad with finely diced potatoes and onions … spicy gambas (prawns), and slices of beef and mushrooms in a creamy roquefort sauce. All came with a crusty slice of bread and petite forks … and all were delicious — but the octopus and beef were outstanding. We went back for seconds of those two and added a lobster salad as well. The perfect amount, and the total (including beer) came to less than two burgers! Absolutely no contest!
One excursion in Tarifa I forgot to mention, were the sand dunes — at Punta Paloma https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0nnn46KTFY
We took our shoes off and struggled up the dune beside the road, sinking into the fine white sand and reaching the top, stood mesmerized. There before us lay the entire bay all the way to Tarifa with Jebel Mousa (mountain in Morocco) in the background. Deep blue water, a wide rim of pale sand … and dozens and dozens and dozens of windsurfers and kite surfers racing back and forth across the water, leaving trails of white behind them. We sat on a warm sandy hillock and just watched the ever-changing spectacle — like a living kaleidoscope. The sails used by some of these windsurfers are quite different — not attached to the board at all, but held up like a pair of wings and tilted one way or the other. Then, in order to build up speed after a dunking, the windsurfer would bob up and down – almost like a character in the old cartoons.
In some places, the natural twig/bamboo fences used years ago along the dune ridges — to stop sand from blowing and moving about – have become a hazard. The dunes have shifted — covering up most of the fences and leaving only the sharp, foot-stabbing tops, barely visible … and sometimes, not even that.
A family on horseback rode down to the firmer sand along the water’s edge … Mum and Dad in the lead … teenage daughter behind … on her cell phone!
Pedestrian crossing in Tangier 
There’s still a beach as I remember it, near Estepona 
Tapas Bar, Estepona 
Wall mural, Estepona 
Sand Dunes 
Wind Surfers with Jebel Musa (N. Africa) in behind 
Wind and Kite surfer – Kaleidoscope 
New type of windsurfer 
Even on horseback … a phone
