20 Nov, 2010 @ 22:11
1 min read

Last Sunday in September

WOKE at 4 in need of a wee and a refreshing cuppa. Tiptoed to the study and wrote up a piece for the Olive Press, a local English-language newspaper down here in Andalucía.

Slipped back into bed, but too hot to sleep properly, so got up again at 6, had another wee, another cuppa and sent some emails.

Mixed my vitamin ‘shake’ and downed it in one before sliding back into bed at 7 for a doze and some gentle loving as the sun rose from behind the mountains and welcomed us to this new Autumn day by casting a soft and warm light into our room.

Both up for good at 8.30. More tea for me, with milk (well, I am English!) then a leisurely breakfast on the terrace, but it was already getting too hot. Time to go out to the newsagents in the next village to get the Sunday paper, SUR, and the latest 1€ DVD sold with it.

Then it’s on to the monthly craft market at a nearby hotel to meet with friends and do a bit of networking. There I bought a superb Afro-Cuban music CD, before heading back home for a late lunchtime beer in my favourite Spanish bar, owned and run by the football-mad Armando. A couple of beers plus a super chat about the latest controversial football match. Treated myself to a tapa de caballa – mackerel – for just 20 cents!

Back to the house where Frau W was trying on clothes trying to decide what to wear to our dinner date. Gave the right advice (phew!) and then we were off. Her car, roof open, and a beautiful drive past fields of sunflowers to visit Eva and Manfred, our German friends, at their delightful finca on the hill up towards Acinipo, the site of the Roman ruins of Old Ronda.

We ate straightaway (were we late? Well, they are German!). We dined inside, in the cool of their huge open plan lounge, dining room and kitchen. Very delicious and very welcome (we’d not eaten since breakfast eight hours earlier – except for my mackerel tapa, of course!

Then it was time for coffee and cakes on the shaded terrace and a cooling swim in the pool.

Finally it was back home through the rocky scenery of the Puerto de Montejaque as twilight began to draw a busy, tiring, but wonderful day to a close. Just like most days, really. A bit of TV, before we settled for an early-ish night and dreams of Monday and what new delights might be in store in the coming week …

Paul Whitelock

Anglo-Welsh, born 1950. Two children (b. 1983 and 1987). Retired school inspector, and former languages teacher. Living in Serrania de Ronda. Re-married 2010. Freelance writer, translator and interpreter.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous Story

Roca estate goes to the state

Next Story

Grizzly death

Latest from Paul Whitelock's View From The Mountains

Jack Frost in Andalucía

It has been a very cold winter in the Serranía de Ronda. Paul Whitelock was inspired to write about Jack Frost by the continuing icy mornings he is experiencing where he lives
Help, help me, Ronda!

Help, help me, Ronda!

Paul Whitelock reckons an extract from the lyric of the Beach Boys 1965 hit resonates with lots of people who have come to Ronda to live. But why is this stunning city

Doppelgängers in Andalucía

You’ve all heard the rather wacky theory that John F Kennedy, Elvis, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Princess Diana et al aren’t dead at all and are living on a remote island somewhere

Review of 2011… from the mountains

Here’s Paul Whitelock’s personal review of the year – of events which have affected Spain in general and the Serranía de Ronda, where he lives, in particular
Go toTop

More From The Olive Press