Monday, after breakfast on the balcony, Beth and I decided to take a swim in the Mediterranean. It was warm and a little overcast. There was a bit of a breeze. I slathered myself with that 18 euro bottle of SPF 50 suntan lotion.
We walked past the gorgeous outdoor pools with their lounge chairs - most were occupied or had towels on them. No problem - we were heading for the real thing.
We went out the gate to the beach and saw that it was almost empty. The wind was quite a bit stronger here.
The next thing I noticed was that the sand was not the white sand that we have in Cape Cod. And it was not clean!! It was more like dirt. As we walked over to put our things down in a lounge chair, I noticed all the cigarette butts all over the ground! How gross!!
There were lines of these chairs along the beach. Notice the waves - they don't look too big from this view - but they were!
The water was cool, but with the waves, it didn't take long to get wet. There was no lifeguard, and there were very few swimmers. The waves were strong - I'm a wimp now that I am older and have had two hip replacements - I was afraid to go out too deep. I love the water and used to be a good swimmer. Now, since I am out of shape and can't swim like I did a hundred years ago, I didn't go past my waist. But the incoming waves were high - I didn't have to go out any further. I saw one guy get knocked by a wave, and he had trouble getting back up. His pal had to help him. Sorry Beth - I didn't have that much faith in you. We probably both would have drowned helping each other!
The waves reminded me of Chappaquoit Beach here in Falmouth. We have been going there since we were kids. The very best times are when there are big waves. The waves in the Mediterranean are every bit as good as at Chappa - even better I think. So I bounced around on the waves. Beth came in as well. After some time, we decided to stretch out on those lounge chairs.
I was sitting there wondering if I had brought my binoculars, if I could see the coast of Africa. It was amazing to think we could almost reach out and touch another continent.
A topless bather walked by. I guess there is a topless beach further down the coast. I remember when GeeGee, Julie, and I were on the tour of central Europe back in the late 70s. Our tour bus passed a topless beach in France, and everyone was gawking out the window to see someone topless. I don't get excited over it. But some of these people strutting their stuff, well - maybe they shouldn't!!
Eventually, the wind made it difficult to read so we packed up and headed back to the apartment.
I loved all the flowers.
We relaxed on our balcony - had some lunch with Julie and Joan. It was a beautiful day and a great place to chill.
Then we got ready for our Flamenco night in the hotel's restaurant. Besides bullfighting, what else does Spain bring to mind? Flamenco dancing of course! We were going to have a traditional Andalusian dinner and then Flamenco dancers were going to perform.
I think Charlene's group had driven to Ronda that day. So it was just Beth, Julie, Joan, and myself. There were several tables set up. Ours was one row from the stage.
The dinner was delicious like everything we had eaten in Spain. There was plenty of wine - I had Sangria.
The stage was simply decorated with a few silk shawls. A guitarist played on stage as we ate. After dinner he was joined by a female singer who sang a couple of songs. It is times like this that I wish I spoke another language or two. It would have been an even better experience if I could have understood what she was singing. Then the female dancer appeared. I liked the performers because there was nothing touristy about them. I'm such a snob - I hate to be caught in tourist traps. But these seemed like the real deal. This was more cabaret style than a fancy stage production.
I liked the dress the dancer wore - nothing flashy but exotic in a subdued way. I had only seen a Flamenco dancer when I went to see Michael Flatley's Riverdance - twice in Boston, once in Killarney. I loved it then - very high energy - but that seemed more like a production. Here it was more intimate and simple.
Even though Flamenco is part of Spanish culture, I think the Roma people - the gypsies - are also closely identified with it. I read that there is still a fairly large population of Roma people in this part of Spain.
The guitar was the only music - the singer clapped as she sang. The dancer had no castanets - but used her hands and arms as part of her story telling. She was graceful but powerful as she danced.
Another fellow joined them on stage. He was seated beside the guitar player and was playing what looked like a plank of wood with his hands. But then he got up and began dancing. He seemed so intense - his eyes were glaring at ... what? He would look out from the stage with those piercing eyes! I was afraid of him! He danced solo but also danced with the woman. Clapping his hands, snapping his fingers, tapping his feet so fast without moving, his whole body vibrating! All the time peering out from the stage. Oh my god, I was afraid his eyes would meet mine!
I wish you could see the video I have from this night but I can't upload it. And maybe it wouldn't be the same.
When the dancing was over, the female dancer pulled a gentleman up from the audience to try Flamenco. And he was good enough for her - he played right along. What a good sport.
Then those eyes came down into the audience looking for someone to bring on stage. I kept my eyes downcast - I told you that I was afraid of him - I didn't want him to pick me. And he didn't. But when I saw that woman that he did pick on stage, I started regretting that I hadn't tried to catch his attention - I would have been so much better - because I really wanted to learn Flamenco! But those eyes!! Scary!! Still!
Of course, we had a drink outside when it was over. Charlene's group was there. They had enjoyed Ronda. We talked about going to Mijas in the morning. Julie said it was about a half hour away and up the side of a mountain. She and Charlene said there was shopping for souvenirs there. Beth was looking to shop since we didn't do much in London. I was looking to explore a Spanish village.
But I was still regretting not getting on stage to learn a little Flamenco!! And I still regret it!
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