Ronda is where mom really wanted to go. She really wanted to see the “Puente Nuevo”. It was only until a few days after our trip to Ronda that she revealed to me that the architect of the bridge fell to his death while inspecting the bridge and that they used to hurl people off of the bridge during the Spanish Civil War. Now that makes it much more interesting.
So we went to Ronda the wrong way. You are supposed to approach from the south for the most spectacular view, but alas, we came from Granada, from the north. At first, its an unimpressive city. Larger than the pueblos we had visited Sunday but smaller than Granada. A walk to the historical district is what it takes to realize the full extent of the city’s charm.
One side of the city is just a cliff. Buildings go right up to the edge and look as if they are going to topple over to the rocks below.
Moving further along to the old Moorish quarter, the architecture gets ‘older’ and we caught a glimpse of the Puente Nuevo. Its not a very long bridge, but it is incredibly tall. We weren’t even able to see how far down the bridge went because the view is obscured by the gorge the bridge is spanning.
Besides the bridge and the ancient Moorish quarter there isn’t really much to see. We walked past the Plaza de Toros and made a quick stop at the post office where we proceeded to buy all of the stamps the guy had left. Not really, but we probably used over 30…
We got back to Granada and were pretty exhausted. We ran a few errands around the town and settled down for some tapas. After a few bites we remembered to take a picture of some traditional tapas to show everyone ☺
No comments:
Post a Comment