Sometimes plans don’t meet expectations. That was the story of today — filled with spectacular natural panoramas, ho-hum sights, too many tourists, changes to loved locations and disappointing restaurants.
It was a simple straight shot out of Seville from the NH-Hotel Central Convenciones on the road to Andalucia’s white towns and our planned loop through Arcos de la Frontera and Ronda then onto Granada. In no time, the apartment blocks of Seville’s outskirts gave way to green and gold fields stretching toward the hazy purple outline of mountains on the horizon.
White country houses with red tile roofs dotted the countryside surrounded by neatly cultivated rows of beans, peppers, lettuce and small fruit orchards. The ribbon of black asphalt curved gracefully through the folds in the landscape beneath a cloudless blue sky and not another car or truck disturbed the bucolic scene for extended periods. Occasionally a tractor pulled onto the main highway only to turn down the next dirt path across the fields.
Driving in from the northeast, Arcos de la Frontera slowly comes into focus as the town climbs up the hill to the church and the Parador. For those arriving from the southeast the city sits dramatically above sheer cliffs. We threaded our way to the peak of the village and turned into a small parking area that charged by the minute. (It ended up costing Euros 1.60 for about an hour.) From there we walked up to the Church of Santa Maria, then down to buy cookies from the cloistered nuns and made a short visit to the small market. Other than the whiteness of the town, narrow streets and its precarious situation, there is not much more to see in Arcos. It’s kind of like driving through a postcard with beautiful views and not much more.
Along the road to the east from Arcos to El Bosque the countryside changes dramatically from rolling fields to rugged mountains with raked cliffs and tortured rock formations around each hairpin turn. Again, rugged nature is the real star of this drive. The towns provided pretty punctuation and that is about it.
Driving from the west, Grazalema is approached from above looking down on its red tile roofs. The road skirts the south side of town and curls back to the west past parking lots, the town’s main plaza and the small church. As the road drops down the valley below Grazalema, the views back to the town provide a much most traditional picture of a white town crawling up the hill. (This small village in these Andalucian mountains claims the spot for record rainfall each year. I would have guessed that the record would belong to some town in Galicia, in the northwest of Spain.)
About a half-hour later, we arrived in Ronda, crawling with tourists. Traffic was stop-and-go from the outskirts of town past the bullring and down to the dramatic bridge that spans the deep gorge. A loop back to the town’s main square uncovered a very convenient parking lot.
I was looking forward to a lunch at the restaurant in Hotel Miguel rated two-forks by the Michelin Red Guide with seating on the cliffs beside the bridge. The setting met all expectations, however the meal did not live up to its billing – basically, it served pedestrian fare — thin gazpacho, overcooked pork, sparse mixed salad — in a privileged location. Their coffee shop would have been a better choice providing snacks with the same cliffside situation.
My other dashed high expectation was a revisit to the bullfighting museum that I first visited twenty-something years ago. At that time, the museum was pure magic with a tangible atmosphere of the founding of modern bullfighting. Suits of lights were on display where they could be examined closely, mounted heads of memorable bulls each had a story of tragedy or unusual bravery and the museum brought visitors through the development of bullfighting as we know it today.
Unfortunately, the once evocative museum has been sanitized with all of the displays behind glass, out of reach and impossible to examine. One half of the display space is devoted to saddles and arms that have nothing to do with modern bullfighting. I was sorely disappointed.
We jostled our way back to the parking garage beneath the town square through bands of Japanese and German tourists past scores of souvenir shops and restaurants touting cheap and cheaper menus del dia. Ronda was a sad shadow of a place I once loved. Perhaps during a visit in the quiet of winter I might reconsider, however, I cannot recommend going out of one’s way for a day in Ronda and the White Towns when Spain has so much better and still unspoiled to offer.
Finally, we pushed onwards to Granada by the main highways arriving around 8 p.m. with the sun setting quickly and rush hour traffic of cars and motorscooters swirling. Getting to the center of town is relatively straightforward, however anyone with a hotel in the center of Granada should make sure to get a detailed set of directions to reach their lodging. The city has instituted a labyrinthine traffic system and has blocked many streets for exclusive use of taxis and buses. Luckily, I had a cell phone and could be talked into the NH-Hotel Inglaterra (Cettie Meriem, 6, tel. 958-221-959). To be honest the hotel warned me of the traffic situation prior to my arrival, however I stubbornly decided that my GPS could navigate through Granada – WRONG, it went haywire in the maze of one-way streets.
Though arriving after a long day on the road was exasperating, the hotel is a delight. Our rooms had a view of the Alhambra that was lighted romantically, glowing a pale red. From a tourist’s point of view, NH-Hotel Inglaterra is in a perfect location. Outside the hotel door a series of tapas bars filled with locals stretched through the narrow streets and the fancier bars of nearby Plaza Nueva with the Alhambra’s alcazaba looming overhead were packed with tourists. Less than a hundred yard away the city’s cathedral and royal chapel await and buses reaching the Alhambra and the Albayzin pass within 50 yards of the hotel.
Photos by Charles Leocha (top to bottom)
Arcos de la Frontera Church of Santa Maria
Arcos de la Frontera street to cloistered convent
Grazalema roofs
Ronda Bridge
Alhambra view from Hotel Inglaterra room
Hotel Inglaterra lobby
Charlie Leocha is the President of Travelers United. He has been working in Washington, DC, for the past 14 years with Congress, the Department of Transportation, and industry stakeholders on travel issues. He was the first consumer representative to the Advisory Committee for Aviation Consumer Protections appointed by the Secretary of Transportation from 2012 through 2018.
