Settling in

After a fair night's sleep in a different bed and different place, I got up late to a grey morning, though not as dark grey as Cardiff under cloud. Hazy mist persisted most of the day, diluting the sun's rays, but it was at least warm enough to shed a pullover in the afternoon. After a slow breakfast of porridge, bread with olive oil and jam, John arrived by car to escort me to San Miguel for the Eucharist, a kind reminder of the route from the new chaplaincy house on the outskirts of Torrox, the neighbouring coastal municipality to Nerja on the west. Inevitably in the neighbourhood of Iglesia San Miguel, finding a parking place wasn't easy. After parking his own, John took the chaplaincy car and parked it so that I could go into church to brief the assistant ministers of the Eucharist and prepare for the service.

There were twenty of us, all above retirement age, a congregation with fewer visitors this week as a wave Easter holidaymakers return home. There were several people I remember from last time I was here, but maybe a few more who remembered me! San Miguel has had a make-over since I was last here. The ceiling has been lowered, and now acoustic tiles dampen the reverberation which used to make the building sound a bit like a warehouse rather than a church. It all looks very fresh and clean. 

After the Eucharist I went to Bar Atalaya, a few minutes walk up the street on the main road, to join a group of half a dozen having a drink and a chat before going their ways - some returning to UK, others with an hour's journey to make. It struck me how committed people have to be to make the effort, and how important it is that services are worth the effort to attend.

When a went to pay for my 0% beer, I discovered it was cash only payment, and had to ask John to pay for me. I only brought digital money with me and not had an opportunity to withdraw cash. I forgot how the UK is ahead of other countries in going cashless, like Scandinavia, so I've got out of the habit of carrying notes and coins. Lesson learned. Returning from the bar, I had to search streets in the vicinity of San Miguel to reach the car, though I had seen where John had parked it. I need to familiarize myself with the grid plan street layout once again.

Once back at church house, I cooked pasta and a veggie sugo for a very late lunch. Then I walked down Tamango Hill, under the N340a to the lay-by overlooking the sea which was part of the original road before it was upgraded. Motorists stop and park there to take in the view, visit a clifftop restaurant, or to walk down to Playa Güilche, a grey shingle beach with a restaurant of its own. The clifftop grass verge and other grassy slopes are full of yellow and violet wild flowers at the moment, a delight to see. Within a few seconds I saw two pairs of goldfinches chasing each other around in a courtship ritual. Lovely.

The kilometre walk back uphill to Church House was quite demanding as the road is steep and winding. I didn't get too out of breath, but my legs need to get used to hill climbing again. I haven't done much since I was in Los Boliches last spring. I chatted with Owain on WhatsApp, and after a light supper of bread olive oil and tomatoes, I listened to 'The Archers' and then chatted with Clare. Uploading the day's photos to Google Photos was slow. Download speed is significantly faster than upload with the house internet unfortunately. Only then did I start remembering and writing about yesterday's journey, and it was much later than I thought when I called it a day. My photos can be found here.