blue sky, white wash

You want sunshine?
You got it.

More sunshine...
and whitewash.

Oh...just a window box.
And a balcony.

This is my favourite street,
lots of happy memories.

You want sea as well?
Go down these steps

take your shoes off
and run into the water.

You're welcome.

sunrise

My hotel room faced east
towards the sea horizon
and each day I woke early
to watch the sun rise.

At first I thought about
the changes I have made
since the last time I saw
the sun rise over Spain

but it is impossible
to look backwards
at sunrise and so I sat,
waiting for morning,

watching the beautiful bay
and the little town of Nerja
which I have learned to love
become flooded with light.

the road to Torrox

There is a small, rough road
that links Frigiliana near Nerja
with the next small town, Torrox.

It winds over the hills
following the contours
so that you can look down
into the deep valleys.

If you drive that way in spring
you will be totally surrounded
by meadows of wild flowers.

It is like falling
into a living tapestry.

I was completely unprepared
for the beauty of it,
the abundance.

and it was so still and clear
that I didn't want to leave.

In the distance
I could hear the bells
of a herd of goats
which added to the
surreal atmosphere.

The clatter of bells grew louder
and the herd of goats
came up to road behind us
and then turned off
onto a drovers track
between the olive trees.



I don't think I could live
surrounded by such beauty.
It would make me too intolerant
of the complexities, challenges
and ugliness of everyday life

but I think of that goat herder
and I am glad that he walks
through the flower meadows
beside the road to Torrox.

Love letter to Nerja

There is that blissful moment
when you stand on the roof terrace,
the sea and the sky are blue
and the horizon is hazy,

you look towards the palm trees
on the Balcón de Europa
and breathe out slowly.

In a while you might stroll down
to the warm sand of Burriana beach
and perhaps stop for a bowl of paella

but it is so tempting to sit still,
drink a glass of wine
listen to the swallows,

and you know that
you have all week,
there is no rush.

We ate and drank and explored
and sunbathed and swam and slept
and discovered that MasterM
can hold four shot glasses in one hand.

MrM watched rugby in the Irish bar,
MasterM spent a night in the police station*,
MissM started her 2013 suntan
and MrsM continued her love affair with Nerja.

It was a wonderful holiday,
one of the the best,
full of happy memories.

Nerja, we are missing you already.

*****

* don't panic Granny,
he was translating for Canadian tourists
who had their bag stolen on the beach.
His Spanish teacher will be very proud.

the hills had new places

I find myself returning to memories of Spain.

This was the view from my bedroom.
It was in a small annexe
projecting from the hotel,
catching the wind from the mountains
which blew fiercest at night.

I was describing this to a colleague
and he quoted 'Wind' by Ted Hughes
"This house has been far out at sea all night"
and that is how it was.

Wind
This house has been far out at sea all night,
The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,
Winds stampeding the fields under the window
Floundering black astride and blinding wet

Till day rose; then under an orange sky
The hills had new places, and wind wielded
Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,
Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.

At noon I scaled along the house-side as far as
The coal-house door. Once I looked up -
Through the brunt wind that dented the balls of my eyes
The tent of the hills drummed and strained its guyrope,

The fields quivering, the skyline a grimace,
At any second to bang and vanish with a flap;
The wind flung a magpie away and a black-
Back gull bent like an iron bar slowly. The house

Rang like some fine green goblet in the note
That any second would shatter it. Now deep
In chairs, in front of the great fire, we grip
Our hearts and cannot entertain book, thought,

Or each other. We watch the fire blazing,
And feel the roots of the house move, but sit on,
Seeing the window tremble to come in,
Hearing the stones cry out under the horizons.

Ted Hughes

Paseo de los Tristes, Granada

(1)
Look away from the wall
to blue sky above mountains
and the olive tree on the hillside
where a bird sings carelessly.

(2)
Look back at the wall
where the bullet holes remain,
spattered through plaster,
not higher than the head
of a kneeling man,
testament to war.

(3)
Look away from the wall
at the end of the road
to the tree on the hill.
And the bird still sings.

Alice Christie
13 ii 13

*****

The Cementerio de San José is situated on the hill above the Alhambra at the end of the Paseo de los Tristes. It is an impressive place full of monuments and statuary appropriate for a large and wealthy city.

Walk outside and follow the edge of the cemetery around to the right and you will come to a memorial which commemorates victims of the Franco regime who were shot by firing squads against the wall. 3,978 executions were recorded here between 1936 and 1956 and you can still see the bullet holes in the plaster. Places like this are to be found all over Spain but are only just being acknowledged.

If you visit the Alhambra I recommend that you find the time to walk up to the Cemetery and see this place of profound grief.

Rio de la Miel

We stopped in a sheltered part of the bay.
After standing in the cold wind all morning
it was a relief to escape the constant buffeting.
I sat on the edge of the shingle
and the only thought in my mind was
"if this isn't nice I don't know what is".

that was the night that was

On the last night
it is time to go out and relax,

a drink in an Irish bar,
a game of pool

then off to the clubs,
raucous and full of life

where there is dancing
until late, late, late

followed by a quiet stroll home
through palm-lined streets.

5am and all's well.

Paella on the beach

Cooked over charcoal.
Served by pirates

Hungry?

Tweetilicious Jenny

In the end I didn't go to Spain...

...and I want to put on record
my gratitude to Jenny
who has been tweeting
wonderful photos and words
from the beaches and mountains.

I can't be there this year
but Jenny's tweets from Nerja
have brought Andulusian sunshine
back to my office and made me smile.

Thank you Jenny!

All photos by @J_Kynaston for use by @RHULGeography

Rio de la Miel

I did not plan to post while I was in Spain

but I got up early every day
to write while it was quiet

and I am glad that I did
because the experience was captured

and the words have a freshness
that is difficult to create retrospectively.

Now I must pause and catch my breath.

Back soon.

Souvenirs of Nerja

I fell in love with the Costa del Sol...

I thought it was just
sun, sand and flamenco

but I discovered
dramatic mountain scenery,

Moorish history

and orange groves.

You can sit in the sunshine in Granada at lunchtime

and then drive across the hills

back to the sea

and the bustle of the promenade.

Nerja, I'm missing you already.

Roll on next year.