Heat and poppies as souvenirs
Unfortunately, my bed neighbour also received the tip that you have to get up very early for Alhambra tickets. His alarm clock rings at half past five and everyone in the room is awake. He gets up. He gets up and goes on his way, I try to sleep a little longer. But by half past seven I'm ready to realise that it's no use trying to fall asleep any more. So off to the shower. The good thing about hostels is that you are usually all alone so early. Everyone is still asleep. The young things also go out so late.
So, we go to wake Gerd up and then carry all our stuff out into the hallway first, because we don't want to disturb those in my room or Gerd's room.
In the hallway we bundle up our stuff and carry it downstairs. Our Felix stands dutifully in the small alley in front of the hostel and waits for his next assignment.
We have breakfast first and pick out the route. The thermometer climbs and climbs and I am almost willing to pick the fastest route. Gerd, however, wants to ride beautiful routes. So off we go through the mountains, past picturesque reservoirs and magnificent mountain panoramas. The finger keeps going to the shutter release, and today we will again have a lot of pictures on the memory card.
We drive so many curves, sometimes I wonder how many curves we have already driven. At some point we stop for an espresso at a lonely hotel and sit down with a gentleman. The only guest, by the way.
He is English with an Irish wife, he tells us, and lives in Spain. He also tells us that he has several motorbikes and everything about him speaks the language of money. Only his looks don't at all. An absolutely likeable guy.
As we say goodbye, he smiles and puts on an old denim jacket with a funny crocheted poppy flower on the chest. I ask him about it and say that this flower looks funny. He is beaming all over and tells me that this is the symbol of people who support people in need financially. He rummages in his belt pouch and gives me a bracelet with a poppy on it. And smiles. And roars away with his triumph.
The days before, I ask Gerd every now and then that I would like to buy a souvenir. I look here and there and don't really find anything. And now, just like that, a person gives me a little souvenir. I wear the poppy, which is also called poppy in English, happily on my arm. Now I have my souvenir. And once again I have been more than given a present.
We drive on and neither of us wants to go on. The thermometer climbs to 37 degrees now and then and neither of us feels like driving. We just want to arrive in Ronda. And jump into a pool of some kind. The Google camping search shows me a campsite a few metres from the gates of Ronda. So let's go there. When we arrive, we are thrilled and can hardly believe our luck. For 22 euros we are on the most beautiful site so far. With lots of space, shade from romantic olive trees and the highlight: a pool! And what a pool it is. Incredibly romantic and with sunbeds in the shade everywhere. We slowly lower our bodies and cool down. And we are undisturbed and chat about our trip. About possible ways of travelling around the world. About budgets. About the luxury we sometimes wish for. And about the fact that we like camping. But hotels too.
In the evening we walk the few metres to Ronda. After all, we want to see the world-famous bridges and, above all, eat tapas again. Or paella. Or churros. Or everything. We mingle with the tourists, armed with camera and all, and stroll through the town eating vegetarian paella, tomato tapas and churros with chocolate. A perfect menu, in other words. After a little walk, we go "home" and lie down in our tent. I would love to sleep outside. But for fear of animals I crawl into the tent. It is still super-hot and we lie naked on our sleeping bags and don't move an inch. Every movement is too much in this heat. Eventually we fall asleep and towards morning I notice a slight cooling.
