melissa's blog

Speaking at a local garden club, I was asked for more information about Mexican mint marigold, and its uses in cuisine. I absolutely love it when I am the stumped chump. (no foolin', I love it) I didn't have much to say about the culinary use of Mexican mint marigold, but promised I would do some more research, and get back to the club members.

My favorite city on our trip was definitely Seville. In fact, it was at this point in the trip that all my good intentions of blogging and taking tons of pictures went straight out the window. Seville cast a spell on me, overwhelming my senses with its beauty.

We were in a cab trying to get to a museum, and noticed a lady out in the hot sun, trying to wash the windshield of the car idling in front of her. The lady was about 40, but looked older, with a flowered scarf tied around her head, a long flowing purple skirt, socks and sneakers. The angry Spanish driver slammed the car into reverse, so that the lady couldn't squirt or squeegee the glass, or collect any money from the driver for the service she was providing. "Gypsy" my cab driver...

My husband is an excellent photographer. Many of you know that he is a painter by trade (not houses, but fine art) so he has a great eye for composition. I have learned a lot from him. I have also learned that having a fancy camera helps tremendously as well. His camera must have a magical elf inside, as it just takes the best pictures I have ever seen. Far be it from me, the loving wife, to give all the credit to the husband. It has to be the camera. Or the elf.

After our day trip visits to Arcos de la Frontera and Ronda, we spent the night in Cadiz. The old part of the city is surrounded by an ancient wall, referred to as the Casco Antiguo.

Today started out  at the Malaga airport where my husband and I went to pick up our rental van to travel around Andalucía, the southern portion of Spain. We finally found Avis on the dingy bottom floor of the car park. It is a Mercedes 9 passenger van, enough for 7 of us, plus our luggage.

You might notice that there is a serious lack of food writing in these first few posts. Frankly, it was tough to find good places to eat. Oh sure, we had tons of recommendations, and guidebooks galore, but after walking sometimes for about 5 hours straight, it was difficult to venture outside the tourist zones to those quaint, out of the way cafes operated by real chefs. By the time we stopped for lunch at 2pm, often we would plop into the first free chair at a touristy cafe that we saw, and...

From Malaga, we took a taxi to Mijas, a mountain village with whitewashed buildings. After noticing several English food markets and restaurants offering English breakfast, Mijas appeared to be a popular destination for Brits searching for the sun.  We took a donkey taxi tour of the city, the donkeys being the main attraction for the village.

Bleary eyed and jet lagged, my son and I arrived in Spain at 9:00am local time, 3:00am US time.
 
View of Spain From The Airplane:
Neat syncopated diagonals. Land scraped and scratched since the days of the Ancient Romans. Cultivated, dry and hard. Are those orange trees or are those olives?

Here I am, a tourist, a visitor from a land that the Spanish settled, a land where precious few Spaniards now ever visit.  What will I recognize?

My day getting to the plane was nuts to begin with. I had to pick up my youngest son at summer camp, so I left the house at 5:00am, drove 2 hours to the Texas Hill Country, collected him and his belongings, then drove 2 hours back. We returned at 9:30am, and had to be at the airport by 11:00am. Thankfully, my sister-in-law offered to give us a ride to the airport, and we made it in time.