Before recounting today’s events, a few words about last night. I was having dinner at a small bar down the street from the hotel, seated outside and watching the Saturday night activities of the mostly local residents. There was a fairly sizable crowd gathered outside the church - periodically folks would peer inside, or staff from nearby restaurants would dash over to take a quick look before resuming their duties. Clearly something was attracting their attention. When finished with dinner, I walked over to take a look – inside the church was a very, very large stage of some sort under which I could see a dozen or more legs and sneakers. And then I understood – it was a practice session for the upcoming procession celebrating Semana Santa, or Holy Week.
During Semana Santa, every town in Andalusia celebrates with brass bands and processions where statues of Mary and Jesus are brought from inside the church and paraded through town on large decorated floats - and the floats sit on the shoulders of “Penitenciales”. What I witnessed in the church last night was a practice session among the Penitenciales – the group trying to coordinate their movements and act as one unit to lift the float and walk slowly along the procession route. The beginning of Semana Santa is next Sunday, Palm Sunday – and I’m very excited to be in Andalusia for this important event.
A crowd gathers at the Zahara church to watch the practice of the Penitenciales getting ready for the Semana Santa procession
It was a short ride to Ronda today, so I took a little time before leaving to look around Zahara de la Sierra, which was established as a Moorish outpost in the 13th century. It was a quiet Sunday morning. Most storefronts and cafés were shut tight and only a few walkers and sitters were out and about. I walked up to the top of the town, but access to the remains of the ancient village and castle required an entrance fee, and was not yet open. I returned to the hotel to pack up Vivien George, and was soon on my way.
The first eight miles retraced my route from yesterday – down the hill and around the the reservoir. But after crossing the bridge at the southern end of the reservoir I continued southeast on A-2300 as it wound up along the edge of the Sierra de Grazalema Natural Park. It was a nice steady climb on a quiet road – virtually no traffic except the distant buzzing of motorcycles to disturb this peaceful morning. I stopped for wildflowers near the top of hill, where I had a fine view of Puerto de las Palomas, Grazalema and part of the route between the two. And to think I was just up there yesterday!
At the top of the climb, I turned on a side road for a snack break near a flock of grazing sheep – an idyllic setting, I presumed. However, this intersection proved to be Grand Central as the “small road” was actually the main route between Ronda and Grazalema. I leaned against a guard rail, munching my pastry and watching a parade of motorcycles and Sunday drivers pass by. The sheep flock had moved on, and so did I.
I started out on the same road, but with a different view
A look back to yesterday. Puerto de las Palomas is on the right (or just off the right side) and Grazalema is the white village on the left. The horizontal line just below the peaks is the route from the top of the pass that I took yesterday
The last ten miles into Ronda were on the busier A374, a shouldered highway that took me down and then up again to the famed city dramatically perched above a deep gorge. My hotel was a modest affair near the center of town, and on arriving I quickly settled in for a short nap before heading out for a little look-see around the town. I managed to find a great place for dinner, Pizzeria Davinci, where I had the most amazing spinach salad with feta, nuts and both fresh and dried fruit. And the meat ravioli in a walnut sauce was divine. Tomorrow is a day off to explore the town – I think my legs will be happy.
