Tapas and Wine Tour

If it seems like these next three posts are out of order, its because they are.  Technical difficulties on the train (As the train was rocking, I deleted the photo files, but fortunately still had them on the card).  So, here they are.  Goal is to finish the blog tonight.

The famous Calle de

las Flores, Cordoba.

A rooftop view at dusk of the Mezquita

The bell tower at dusk.

A gate to the courtyard of the

Mezquita across the street.

Jamon -- the finest in the world.

The sherry wine was NOT

a hit with, well, any of us!

"In my village, a man could be ruptured

lifting 15 pesetas of manchego cheese."

The late, great Peter Sellers

One last look, with the lights on.

Diego did tell us a bit about his family, and he said he had a civilian dog.  Both Carol and I were confused by that.  We shrugged it off, assuming there was some sort of program that allows families to adopt military dogs, and Diego did not go that route.  Later we learned his dog is from Seville (hence the "Sevillian"), which is quite a stretch for a family in Cordoba.  Apparently everyone is surviving that geographic faux pas.

The Roman Bridge in Cordoba

A different view of the Alcazar.

The old waterwheel.

Originally built in the 1st Century BC,

it was mostly rebuilt by the Moors in 

the 8th Century.

The famed waters of the Guadalquivir.

At the end is the Calahorra Tower.

Patios In Cordoba

The only one who knows she is being

photographed is our guide, Elena.

Lemon tree!

Maddy mugs for the camera

Now that's a courtyard!

Cool design

Anyone know what kind of flower

this is? Never seen anything like it.

I Don't Want Monkey Butt On My Head

The headline is an actual quote by our actual 23 year old daughter, Maddy.  The context will come further down in this blog post.

Gibraltar had never been on our bucket list of places we must go.  But it was famous for being historically and geographically significant.  Plus, it had been in the Prudential ads all those years, and still might be.

So, after our monkey scare the previous night, it was time to go meet them at the top of the rock.  Once again, I trusted Apple maps when I should not have.  It showed the cable car to the top was about a mile walk away.  We headed off, and with cables over our head just outside of our hotel, Torie pointed out that the cable car was probably at the bottom end of it.  I pooh-poohed that idea, and we made a steady climb up the rock.

Turns out Apple maps were wrong again.  We had hiked up steep roads for nothing (well, other than exercise I suppose).  I should have trusted “Torie maps” – even though she had never been there before.  One last bitter observation – Apple maps are terrible in Europe.  Don’t use them.

Well, at least the return mile was easier, as it was downhill.  We did, on our pointless wandering, see a bit more of the town of Gibraltar than we would have otherwise.

The ride up to the top of the rock was quick.  We exited the cable car to immediately see a monkey eating some scattered fruit.  Maddy was worried that the monkey – a barbary macaque – would attack her.  We wandered around the top a bit, got a snack, and then started down to the mid-point on the rock.  

On the way down, we were entertained, and scared, by plenty of monkeys – the only group of monkeys that still live in Europe.

Monkeys jumped on two different women with backpacks, trying to get into it for food.  The women showed a lot more patience than I would have had, although they probably figured that pushing them off could result in a bite or other attack.  Both times, another monkey climbed up on, pushing off the first monkey.  It was funny and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Nobody was hurt, and no monkey was harmed.  It did, however, lead to the quote of the trip.  Multiple times as we neared monkeys, Maddy said emphatically, “I don’t want monkey butt on my head.”   She had a point, as we had checked out of the hotel, so the whole 90 minute drive to Fuengirola would be spent with hair smelling like, well, monkey butt.

There were several platforms for looking out at the Med, the Spanish coastline, and Morocco across the straits.  There were also any number of monkeys, including very cute babies, and some instances of grooming by the monkeys.

We skipped caves, and continued down to the mid-point, where we said goodbye to the monkeys and took the cable car the rest of the way down.  We might have walked the whole way down, but Torie had slipped, fallen, and temporarily hurt her ankle.  (A 20 year old heals much faster than, say, randomly, a 55 year old.)

We drove out to the lighthouse at the end of Gibraltar, walked around a little, and then headed for the exits.  We didn’t go to the caves or the World War II tunnels, but we felt like it was time to move along.  We did enjoy Gibraltar, but you don’t need a lot of time there!  

Monkeying Around At The Real Top Of The Rock

The Spanish city of Algeciras and the

port of Gibraltar from our hotel room. 

Wind power on a distant hill.

When Apple got us lost, at least

it took us through a gate from 1790.

And past a beloved British

telephone booth.

He was here to greet us when we

got off the cable car.

A view from higher up on the rock.

Sun dappled Med.

The monkey eclipse.

Contemplative monkey.

Gibraltar is actually three rock thrusts.

This monkey (a macaque) jumped on this

tourist in an effort to get into her backpack.

She was flustered, but handled it better

than I would have.

At this point, another monkey decides it is time

 to help out, and then pushed the other monkey

off. There was a lot of nervous laughter from

 the watching tourists.

A little friendly grooming.

Pretty cool shot.

I liked the look of floating

so much I had to do it too.

Hence the expressing, "monkeying around."

A cable car.  They are not as easy

to find as one might assume.

The lighthouse at the

end of Gibraltar.