Visit to the Bull

One thing I forgot to pack when leaving Cardiff was the charger for my DSLR battery. When Clare got back to Cardiff, she found it and posted it to me. That was a week ago. Meanwhile, last Friday, after the post for the day had gone, I sent a birthday card to Amanda, and yesterday morning she sent me a text message saying it had arrived. Uh-oh? What's happened to my little parcel? How long may it take to arrive? Or, is it lost? 

Each day since Thursday last, apart from Sunday, I've made sure that I'm here in the morning to receive a delivery, knowing that the little parcel will be just too thick to pass through the letter box opening in the garden door. So far, nothing, and I've no idea how long it might actually take to convey a little package from Cardiff to Fuengirola, given that a little package is not a letter. 

The way the postal service works in any country, let alone between countries is a mystery, and it's admirable that it works at all, given the variety of regulations governing the terms and conditions for the delivery of letters and packages in different countries. But, for a newcomer like me, it's a matter of uncertainty combined with inexperience. So I stay in and wait, not knowing what else to do.

Yesterday, I didn't go out all day. This afternoon, I willed myself to go out for an afternoon paseo, as it had cooled pleasantly by a few degrees. I walked East towards Torreblanca, not on the promenade, but on a road which took me up into the urbanizacions surrounding a 70 metre high promontory that overlooks the coastal plan.

A rare instance of unmanaged wild area in the conurbation, hosts an old maritime watch tower and one of ninety examples nationwide of the iconic 1950's bull advertisement logo for Osborne's Sherry Brandy. It has become a popular symbol in Spain, appearing on flags and tee shirts, quite divorced from its origin in drinks marketing.

When faced with removal under revised planning regulations, some bull advertisements were locally adopted, retained by popular acclaim as an unofficial Spanish identity symbol. The present bull of Torreblanca appears to be the third on this site, to judge by the discarded and rusting remains of foundations at previous locations on the hilltop.

When I arrived, half a dozen teenagers speaking a Scandinavian language were gathered around the bull, taking photos and climbing, where they could, girls posing for photos swinging from the bull's cojones, which I observed has been graffiti'd over several times, making them less visible that the usual matt back which makes for such a distinctive distant profile. Scope for philosophization without limit here, which I shall renounce. The views from up there across the sea plain and along the coast in both directions are well worth the climb. Surprising really that it's not considered worthy of a few tourism signs to direct visitors there.