The joy of the unexpected

I am home from Spain and listening to the band Triana. The sound is 70s psychodelic rock, the fine guitar work Andalusian, the voice soulful. Expressive. This rock band is one of the wonderful discoveries I unearthed in Spain. One in a long list. Delightful, unexpected, small discoveries and interactions that made my trip memorable.

In Cordoba, I was lost. After strolling the haphazard streets on my first afternoon I wanted to return to my hotel and rest. I was tired. Perhaps it was the endless distractions around every corner (let’s see what’s down this cute street…) or my impending exhaustion but I got totally mixed up. The map in my hand was not cooperating. I needed help.

I was on a small pedestrian street going downhill when I saw a couple. I stopped them and asked, “Dónde está el río?” (Not a phrase I thought I would pull out on my trip but I knew if I found the river I could find my way to my hotel.) When the man was finished giving me the directions he added with a smile “Don’t go swimming”. Hands together above his head he gestured a diving motion. I laughed and assured him I would not dive into the river. We had a good laugh. His joke was the jolt of levity I needed to trudge on and find the river. Success!

In the Sierra de Aracena, my time among the whitewashed villages was ripe with hidden delights. My impromptu afternoon in Jabugo was one such unexpected, and happy, discovery.

Arriving at a village by foot, my legs aching, my first view was always thrilling. I made it! I would enter between some white buildings and a jewelled street would welcome me, winding its way to the town centre. I learned these well maintained villages are heritage protected so modifications to the tiled streets and any village features have to comply with strict standards.

Lucy’s walking notes also had some great information to help me find village treasures and traditions. For example if I had walked through Galaroza on September 6, the day of the Jarritos, I could have got a soaking from someone tossing water from a ceramic jug. Over in Fuenteheridos (photos above), I learned the marble used for the elaborate cross in the village centre is from a quarry nearby. The unconsecrated church in Castaño del Robledo (below) is used as a civic centre for community events and concerts.

Let’s get back to the music. Triana. Where was this discovery? I was in Alájar, home base for my walking tour. While there are traditional restaurants in Alájar (like El Corcho), my dining experience that night was completely unexpected. And delightful. I could smell the wood fired oven when I stepped into La Plazita, a fun pizza restaurant with funky decor. The house wine was full bodied (from Badajoz), the small green olives delish, the pizza outstanding (all pepperoni pizza should be made with chorizo), and the music enchanting. I asked the server about the tunes. “Triana,” she said swaying her hands to the music. “So beautiful.”

Beautiful indeed. I felt immensely grateful to be in Spain, tucked away in a peaceful whitewashed village, enjoying dinner at this funky restaurant to sounds of Andalusian rock. As I walked back to my Posada, I noticed the dark sky was full of stars. No light pollution in these mountain villages. Like discoveries waiting to be revealed, if I stopped to look, the stars were everywhere.