Greetings – 9:40 a.m. Bus station, Granada
I’m sitting in the bus station and will wait in the coffee shop until it’s time to catch the bus to Algeciras.
Now picture this: I have a suitcase on wheels, a stuffed bag sitting on top of that, a purse over one shoulder, a camera over the other one, my laptop bag in one hand and I’m walking to the table holding my glass of cafe con leche. I feel like a contortionist.
Someone suggested I get a backpack, but I do not think it would hold all my ‘stuff’, and if it was a larger backpack, it would hurt my already weakened back.
I wake up nearly every morning with a backache, but after walking for awhile, it goes away.
“Don’t worry” is a standard comment here in Granada, used for just about everything.
So I’m saying that now, “Don’t worry!”
The lady in the hostel called a taxi that arrived in a few minutes.The driver was a young woman. I was so happy to see a woman driving, and one who could speak English, that I jumped right up in the front seat. (Something I learned not to do in Costa Rica!).
She, who looked barely old enough to drive a car, learned English while living in England. She liked a comment I made about a four story house that was painted pink with white trim.
“That is so pretty…it looks like a cake.”
“You are a very creative person. I drive by that place all the time and I have never thought of it as a cake; but now I will.”
It reminded me of the year I lived in my husband’s home town of The Hague, Holland.
“I’ve walked down this street nearly everyday of my life (until he immigrated to the U.S.) and have never looked up to the top of the building before I met you, you crazy lady.”
“Well, I may be crazy, but now you know how beautiful your city was when you weren’t looking.” The tops of buildings have the greatest art: look up people, and see what you own.
After nearly a five hour bus ride, sitting next to Tom, who is from Australia, the time went quickly by. We had a lot to talk about, and by the time it was to part, I felt I had made a friend. We got into the same taxi and he was dropped off first. It was only about a 2 minute drive to his hostel, while mine was nearly 15 minutes away. We drove, and drove, and drove, and finally, up near the mountains, high on a hill we came to where I’d be staying for three days. There is a view from the deck of the hostel. I hadn’t had anything to eat and the lovely lady in reception packed a bit of a lunch for me for a very reasonable price. I find that I’m far from the city, but within walking distance to the bus stop. Soon I’ll go shopping for the next few days.
Back from ‘shopping’ . Ha! The bus is across the freeway from the hostel, and too far for me to head right straight back to the same bus station to pick up some food. But the reception lady told me about another small market if I just walk down the road (freeway), and I’d come to a restaurant. The market is up a hill from there.
Here’s the truth: I walked down the freeway facing cars and trying to stay out of their way, however, a ditch next to the freeway prohibited my walking further away from the traffic. But most cars gave me a wide berth.
I then found the restaurant that seemed to be about one mile away. Up the hill from there, up, up, up the hill, over rocks, pits in the road and dogs warning me with big white teeth that I was taking a chance.
I found the little shop with a step up to a window where I could look in and see that most everything for sale was large; large bottles of this and that. So I purchased a tomato, some cans of tuna, and bread. I’m all set for two days worth of dinner, as breakfast comes with the deal here.
I think I’m the only person in this compound! There is a swimming pool, a tennis court and a lovely place to see the view of the ocean and mountains.
Anyway, I walked back, this time up a front road until I came to the end,then I had to get back on the freeway, so I swung the bag out at my side, whenever I heard a car coming so they could see me.
Tomorrow, I’m going to the Gibraltar for one day, and I bet there will be much to write about.