A break in the weather

We left Seville on Saturday after Blake and I had watched the required flamenco performance.  There are sandwich boards all over town with passionate photos with of men and women with furrowed brows and downwardly cast eyes.  Performances every night at 21:00.  Everywhere. We chose the venue right around the corner as it was right around the corner and it was relatively inexpensive.

For our money we got a guitarist, a singer, a clapper, a male dancer, a female dancer and a whole lot of sweat.  The place was stifling. It was in the courtyard of a building that the sun had beaten on mercilessly all day long with only a thin canvas sail for cover.  Think "Cool Hand Luke"  without the eggs. But the performers seemed game and they gave it all they had, especially the singer and the male dancer.  The singer was male and was singing in Spanish of course, but it struck me how much he sounded like a muezzin, calling the faithful to prayer.  There are more dyanamics and range to the flamenco ballads but you can hear the similarities.  All of the sudden, the muslim world seemed very nearby and it was beautiful. But it was still hot.

Now we are in Olvera, a pueblo blanco village in Andelucia about an hour from Seville.  My friend Melissa and her husband Daud, both artists, have bought a house here and they are back in the states awaiting the paperwork that will allow them to live and work here.  They are both chomping at the bit to arrive and start their work and start painting so I am trying to give her tidbits to savor while she bides her time.  The tidbits are these:
There is a jasmine bush right outside her kitchen window that is blooming. It is so fragrant it makes you want to cry.
They have a large terrace and the stars at night are like a blanket.
She has a coffee pod machine and Blake has fell in love with it.
They have their art on the walls, many still lifes, and images from a recent trip to Morocco.
There are 3 levels so the boys and the parents don't always have to be in each other's hair.

But when we got here on Saturday it was still hot. Close, sweaty.  It makes Blake cranky. But Sunday morning the weather broke and it was windy and almost chilly!  Heaven.

Then we went to Ronda, a spectacular town that is split in two by a gorge. The famous bullfighting ring is there and there are streets named after Ernest Hemingway and Orson Wells and Rilke the poet.  Each seemed to appreciate and praise the village in their own way.  We had pizza and sweets.  A nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon, sweat-free.

2 outlaws

The gorge that cuts thru town

Look at that sky!