Spain, Day 5: Cave Dwellers, Building Bridges, and Turning Left

The next morning, Day 5 of our trip, we set out for one of Andalusia's "White Hill Towns," Ronda, named for the beautiful white-washed homes and buildings set against the hills.

We were unsure we'd make it to our first destination. After a breathtaking drive on windy roads to Ronda, we knew we still had 14 miles into the mountains to find the caves. "Don't worry, it's easy to find," were common words from our hotel concierge, and we learned quickly to discard the comment. Thankfully, Karen's Spanish prowess enabled us to get directions from an older local gentleman (who first started the conversation with a confused look and said, "I don't know what you are saying" due to the mispronunciation of the city name "Benaojan").

Because the caves allow only 25 people at a time, we knew there was a risk we'd arrive and not get a ticket. It also took us significantly longer to reach our destination than planned, and the caves operated on limited hours. We parked and literally ran up the mountain, arriving breathless and asking for "cuatro" tickets. Yay! We got them, although we had to wait a little over an hour for the tour to begin.

The Pileta Caves are filled with prehistoric cave drawings. Discovered (and still operated today) by a local family in 1905, the caves are an archaeological dream. Numerous paintings exist from the Neolithic and Paleolithic time periods--25,000 to 30,000 years ago! They are extremely well preserved due to the perfect humidity and temperature of the caves. The drawings are primarily black and red, and include images of horses, goats, a huge fish, fertility symbols, and a calendar system. Also found are pieces of ancient, broken pottery.

We were particularly impressed with the ventilation system of the cave dwellers--they basically had a natural chimney, and you can see the remnants (discolored walls) of the fires built ages ago. We were also interested to learn about 4 skeletons found by archaeologists. At least one of the skeletons appears to be a human sacrifice.

When you think of visiting Spain, checking out caves isn't the first consideration. However, we came away thrilled with the variety of our trip, and the different aspects of ancient culture we experienced. We were also very grateful for Will and Karen, who translated most of the tour for us. (The tour was in very limited English, as well as more detailed Spanish.)

We broke the cardinal rule and asked our tour guide to take a picture. We quickly switched modes from ancient to modern at a sleek restaurant overlooking the beautiful gorge in Ronda, where we enjoyed a lovely three course meal. Karen S. had the best meal choice, with juicy and flavorful chicken, and of course we all enjoyed our mid-day dessert. "When in Spain..."Next stop, Ronda's famous bullring. Ronda is considered the birthplace of modern bullfighting, and Ronda's bullring is Spain's first great (and considered it's most picturesque) bullring.

Bullfighting started with Phillip II as a way to train knights in the 16th century, but modern bullfighting as we know it did not emerge until the 1700s, with Francisco Romero introducing the red cape and rules of the sport. Francisco's son Juan killed 6,000 bulls in his career.

The holding cells for the bulls:

Bullfights are scripted. After the participants walk around the ring, a trumpet blares, and the first bull is released. In the first part of the fight, the matador uses a cape to attract the bull. After a few passes, horseback riders join the matador, and spear the bull's neck muscle, which weakens the bull and the force of his horns. The second part involves the matador's assistants, who charge the bull and thrust colorful spears into the bull's neck muscle. Finally, the matador urges the bull to charge, and his bravery is determined by how still he can stay for the passes. The matador then forces a sword between the bull's shoulder blades--and this usually takes a few gory attempts--to the crowd's shouts of Ole! (or the whistles and jeering of a crowd who things the fighter is wimpy).

Bullfights include 3 matadors, who each kill 2 bulls each.

It may sound dangerous, but really, only 30 fighters have suffered fatalities in the 200 years of fighting--and of those fighters, 3 were matadors.This bullring hosts a fight the first weekend in September.

Our final destination in Ronda: the gorge and New Bridge, which is 360 feet down and 200 feet wide.
This bridge connects the Old Town (Moorish) and New Town (Christian, after the reconquest in 1485). The first bridge was built in 1735, but lasted only 6 years. The one standing today was built from 1751 through 1793.

Supposedly, the architect working on the project fell to his death while checking the progress of the project. He wasn't the only one. Franco's nationalists fought the Republic from 1936-1939. 600,000 Spaniards died in the fight, and obviously, Franco won. During this civil war, hundreds were thrown from this bridge.

Will and Karen's engagements:

"When in Spain..."

I coerced Brady into this shot...

...but this one was all his idea:

Looking down from the bridge:

Will, walking Ronda's streets:

One of the best parts of Spain is their literal pictures. You won't see a sign that says, "Caution" or "Drive Slow." Instead, they show cars crashing into each other.

Another literal picture (check out the bit still attached to the doggy's bum):

We said goodbye to Ronda, as well as to the day's smooth sailing. Coming back on the curvy roads turned me into the biggest wimp ever, and I spent the ride working so hard not to hurl. I didn't want Will, Karen S., and Brady to remember me only for picking an olive and throwing up all over the car.

Unfortunately, getting back to Estepona (darn that city!) was a trick, as there was quite a bit of construction, and it is absolutely impossible to make a left hand turn--period. We drove back and forth on the highway, trying to get to our exit. We finally made it back to the hotel, where I gratefully plopped into bed and the rest of the crew dared to take to the streets of Estepona yet again. You know where this story is going...they drove around for an hour and a half (while I peacefully watched an English cooking show), looking for the restaurant, before calling it quits and eating at a gas station.