Viñuela revisited

Yesterday was another day of answering couples' wedding blessing queries. It's a bit like being a tutor on a correspondence course, you have to think long and hard to ensure there's clarity in the response. Also there was an email from Cardiff Area Dean Fr Bob Capper, asking me about August availability for locum duties at St German's, which means, sadly, Fr Dean may still be off sick. I had already offered Fr Mark my free slots for Canton Benefice, but conscious that he might not need me for all of them, I asked Fr Bob to liaise with him about free slots. So it looks as if I won't be short of ministry duties on my return.

Coming back from an evening stroll around town, I was surprised to hear the strains of Hare Krishna chanting coming from a small building which I think is a changing room for local tennis courts. I've not come across devotees singing on the streets of the town so far, but may have simply missed them. It's all part of the rich cultural diversity that's part of life on the Costa del Sol, as in any large city.

Apart from a morning walk to the supermarket, I spent the day indoors again, writing emails, but as there was nothing worth watching on telly, I decided to walk to Burriana beach in the dark, and then continued into town via the Playa Caribeo steps. Wanting to stretch myself a little, I jogged all the way up. It left me a little breathless, but recovery was quick. It's getting a lot easier to run since I lost about five kilos. The Balcon was fairly quiet for ten thirty at night, but there was a classical guitarist out busking, playing lovely romantic music, which I think was by an 18th or 19th Spanish composer. Perfect for a late Spring evening.

I had a drink at the Balcon Hotel with some people I knew who hailed me as I was passing, and then strolled home, tireder than I expected. I'm less used to being out and about late these days.

This afternoon, I drove along the coast road to Torre del Mar again, and further beyond for several kilometres to explore. West of the town, on a high promontory, partly cut away in quarried cliffs is a typical iconic Osbourne Bull wayside hoarding, and I wanted to take some photos.

Then I drove back to Torre del Mar, and headed inland, past Velez Malaga to Viñuela, which I'd passed through on a bereavement visit when I was here a couple of years ago. It's a spectacularly beautiful mountainous region and there's a lake named after the town, providing water for local agriculture and the coastal region. It's a big olive growing area.

Up to the right of the lake is the old slow road through the mountains to get to Granada, via the Puerto del Suspiro del Moro - the Pass of the Moor's last sigh - where the defeated rulers paused to look back at the city they'd lost to the army of los reconquistadores. This journey is a must for us, at least one way, when we make our third visit to the old capital of Al Andalus in a few weeks time. It's twice as long as the Autovia journey apparently, but you can stop and rejoice in the scenery.