Aqueduct, Ronda, 2002


The first time we took a holiday in Spain, we stayed in the region of Andalucía, in a remote house, near a tiny community that we nicknamed “The Village of the Damned”. A couple of overnight trips to Granada, Ronda, and Córdoba saved us.

Arriving in Ronda, my half-glass-empty side was in full force. I was convinced that we would not find accommodation. Spotting a completely charming, small hotel in the old town, complete with elaborate wrought iron work and hanging baskets, my pessimism irrationally increased. I pronounced that there was no point even inquiring: there would be no availability and, even if there was, obviously, it would be unaffordable. Mark, Mr. half-glass-full, said “It’s worth asking”. Twenty minutes later, having deposited our luggage in a beautiful, very reasonably priced room, I descended the hotel stairs with a spring in my step, and a big smile on my face. Mark characterized my mood change as “unseemly”!

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