Valle del Bliss



Those colorful hills preceding the respectable mountains, spiked with the white wind-turbines. By night, the latter turn into 'flies', with their intermittent lights flashing in the darkest horizon.



The never tiring, always gorgeous landscape that made me smile at first sight from the plane, and continue smiling while living there, while having meals with this exact view (actually i would need a movie to adequately reflect the fabulous vastness of the landscape in all directions; these are just mere samples), while swimming in its lakes, while hiking its mountains and gorges, while enjoying its warm temperatures and its fresh breeze.

Those impeccable lines of dark green are olive trees. Their hues and shapes pop out on a dry landscape. Its perfection also is in contrast with the fuzzy surrounding desert nature.

Sunset cotton-candy clouds on the higher mounts and as a background for the rarely resting wind-turbines.

A lot of olive trees in perfect center, and further more in the horizon, just an introduction to the sheer rocky mountains occasionally carpeted in green pine.



Sunset from Teba: sun setting behind this respectable rock wall makes this take look like in part a black-and-white shot and in part a full-color one.



Valle del Bliss- or watch what you wish

My second flight would take me from Barcelona to Malaga, and then a train to Costa del Sol. From the airplane, I saw just plain brown soil with occasional mounts. It seemed all pretty much the same, so I closed my eyes again to fall into relaxation. When I opened my eyes again, what I saw seemed from some surreal movie in forms and colours and textures: mountains in different shapes some of them in shades of beige, others carpeted in plain green, and others with perfect stripes of dark green as if drawn with a ruler; as if this was not be pretty enough, a wide winding stream of bright turquoise water was topping off the picture. I smiled. What’s that? What are those plantations that look like perfect green lines? What is that incredible stream of water? I do not know what this is, but I never heard about this beauty, and what a joy to appreciate this from the heights!

Later on, time in Costa del Sol was up. I was due for a change. I decided to visit Teba, a whitewashed village in the mountains and stay in a house. I did not have much information other than what I had seen on line. When I arrived to the house, I got the most wonderful gift: it was not only in that precious area I had admired from the plane, but the house itself was situated in a natural balcony in the heights of Teba, overlooking that glorious valley!

Then, in hindsight, another image came to my mind: when I had no plans of coming to Spain and I was still in Miami, I was captivated by the Spaniards’ spirit of celebration after their triumph in the World Cup. Italy was cut short, and here I am in the low-profile Spain, enjoying that same captivating spirit live, impregnated by the mesmerizing Nature that is soothing and energizing at the same time. Watch what you wish? Watch what you like, maybe? Even though in neither case I had made a specific wish, it seems that I was drawn to Spain, and drawn to the Guadalhorce valley.


View of the valley and lakes (called "pantanos" by locals) from uphill Teba.

Note: Colors are natural. This is not a touched-up photo, as much as it may seem; nor are upcoming photos. Are you ready?



Italy-Spain (3- last!)

2) "38 minutes":

On that same flight, the pilot kept updating us on how far we were from landing, even though it is a short trip and it was a smooth relaxing flight. At one point, it seemed exaggerated since he provided with subsequent updates (we are 40 minutes away from landing, we are 35 minutes away from landing, etc); and these updates were followed by the corresponding translation into English and Italian. An Italian passenger asks one of the Spanish stewards: "How much more until we land?"

I was in disbelief. The steward answered politely: “40 minutes sir. No, actually 38 minutes and 30 seconds”. I also laughed at their light-hearted take of what would be an annoying situation for many other mortals. Above all, I admire their spirit and their take on life! What a contrast with Italians! The most ironic is that in this case, the Italian did not click that the Spaniard was teasing him...!


Some further thoughts that came to me and could not but share them with you (I promise this is it for now!):

- Maybe there is some relationship between topography and the way its inhabitants are? Those contrasts in the Neapolitan coast just match contrasts in Neapolitans lives, those dramatic yet presumptuous cliffs match Neapolitans dramatic lives and presumptuous lifestyles, those waves hitting over and over against the cliffs match the Neapolitans unrequested insistence on women, those happy vibrantly colorful Nature settings match locals vibrant way of carrying themselves and colorful style (even if dressed all in black, they make sure they will make heads turn).

- Schedules in Spain (even in Andalucia, which is considered ‘party province’/’laid-back province’ by the rest of Spain) seem more functional and balanced than in Italia. Please bear in mind that I am comparing two beach places, two vacation places, in the South of each Latin, EU country. In Italia, siesta for stores and businesses lasts 5 hours. In Spain, maximum 4 hours, but most usual 2. In Italia, the gym was open only 3 days a week and only from 7 to noon and from 5 to 10. In Spain, I had the luxury of choosing anytime I wanted to go from Monday to Saturday from 8am to 11pm! I cannot tell you the odyssey it was to find a dentist in Italy for an emergency minor accident. The worst, is that they would pick up the phone, but say that they were either in ‘siesta time’ or ‘in summer break’!
- Going grocery shopping in Spain is a pleasure, although I have to admit that I like more Italian food than Spanish cuisine, the fruits and veggies, breads, wines, dairy products in Spain are to die for. The absolute killers have been figs (both dark and white): they were like St. Dalfour marmalade in edible containers. Juicy and unbelievably sweet. I thought I had had yummy figs in Italy but Spanish ones win! And the pleasure is upgraded when you get to the cashier and you cannot believe the price: in NorthAmerica it would be pricey (qualifying as ‘gourmet’ and ‘organic’ food), and in Italia it would be simply twice the price because that’s the way it is!

- Turn on the TV in Italia: it’s all about over analyzing politics (they are always trying to see how the bring down eternal Berlusconi), gossiping about the rich and famous, and very loud shows with doubtful content but tons of plunging decolages and excessive female skin. On the way to the airport, the largest add on the highway is a photo of a female butt in a g-string just advertising that is an available space for advertising. In the narrow highway, the oversized add is impossible to not see. Turn on the TV in Spain: you have unbelievably witty shows, some of them with a touch of sophisticated humour, all of them are thought provoking and maybe even steal out some laughter from you. This is not at the cost of aesthetics: guys are very good looking and women are gorgeous, but they do not need to tap on any ‘meat market’ strategy to get audience. Even reality shows seem to be value-adding or difference-making in Spain, like a version I caught once of a modern and multiple ‘my fair lady’. Not to tell you about Spanish commercials: they make you laugh with intelligent humour, and they achieve the marketing goal by excellence: you remember the ad and the advertised product.

Italy-Spain (2)

One day, in a Spanish city, walking late at night back to the hotel after some live show, the whole width of a broad sidewalk was taken over by two young men, dressed in an over-the-top way. They were speaking out loud, in spite of the streets being in silence. When I walked by them, I thought: “Aha! Of course!” So, it seems that Italians do not shy away from their questionable habits, no matter if they are in foreign land, no matter if they are breaking any minimum respect.

It has come to my attention that it is not a question of my personal perception only, but it seems that some other Europeans perceive Italians in a similar way that I do. Two short anecdotes to illustrate my point:

1) Flight to where?

When flying from Naples to Barcelona, the flight seemed pretty full of Italians. There were two young girls in their early thirties that would not stop taking photos of everything, from the boarding desk to the first step inside the plane. They were dressed in Italian designer clothes and wearing Italian designer ostentatious eye-glasses and heavy make-up (let me clarify this was a morning flight); above all what was most dominant (aside from the flashy logos all over) was their arrogant attitude (they were ahead of me at the check-in desk and just ahead in boarding). By their looks and attitude, it was hard to believe what it seemed: that maybe it was their first time flying. Once on board, they suddenly stop while walking along the aisle and one asks me in Italian: “Oh, so are seats numbered?” “Yes.” And since they were stopping the inflow of passengers a young energetic steward immediately showed up from the end of the aircraft and kindly offered his help. They conceitedly showed at him their boarding passes. I was still waiting to get to pass by. This guy with his straightest face says: “Barcelona? But, you are on the plane to Madrid!”

The girls froze and panicked. The guy and I started laughing out loud. Only then they clicked.

The steward made fun of their attitude (I don’t know a thing, but I am still arrogant and ‘stronso sotto il naso’) in such a candid, light, fresh way, that he made the whole situation even funnier and the contrasts more apparent.

Takes on Water - Spain

Sunrise on the Spanish Mediterranean. 

Even gray days have their beauty... and remind us of impermanence.

Even those days when we cannot distinguish sea from sky, we know that still there is a sea and there is a sky.

Until the moon comes to surprise us on surreal pastel hues and movie-like settings.

Italy-Spain

I love both countries, and I feel strongly connected to and rooted in both. However, going straight from one to the other, having spent a fair amount of time in the South of both, I could perceive some clear differences. Ahhh…those mind tricks labeled comparisons?

This is by no means a generalization of each country (although I will refer to “Spaniards” and “Italians” for practical purposes) either in space or in time; it is my specific experience of locals in two vacation towns of the South.

. Italians shout too much. Spaniards seem to have more control over their volumes, while still keeping their Latin vibe. Maybe they know respect better?

.Italians have a cigarette stuck to one hand and the telefonino (cell phone) stuck to the other (and yes, using it at a LOUD volume). Spaniards lack of both ‘sticky’ vices (maybe because cell phone calls are quite expensive in Spain, or at least more expensive than in Italia!).

. Italians carry themselves with that arrogance, what they confuse with charm. Spaniards can be charming in a lower-key way, and maybe more effective?

. Italians dress also with some arrogance, with questionable results. Spaniards are trendy and yet tasteful. They seem more grounded and less edgy than over-the-top Italians.

.Italians –even in a small seaside, vacation town- are always in a rush, over-excited, anxious, probably bitter if they take all too seriously. Spaniards are more down-to-earth; they seem to keep perspective which gives them that sense of calmer take on life. Maybe also having a reduced quota of espresso helps!

.Beaches are BEACHES! The Italian cliffs where you have to pay to get access to rocks and overcrowded space are in Spain endless sandy beaches, free to access, free to choose if lonely or crowded.

.Spain seems to have less pollution. As there are less motorinos (small bikes) on the streets -way less- streets are quieter and the air smells as it should in a beach town: the fresh aroma of sea!

.The permanent Italian harassment on the streets is replaced by a refined ‘hola” or ‘que guapa!’ or “oh la la!”. As there is no aggressiveness or nervous tension, one is less ‘on guard’ or ‘on the defensive mode”. The sheer flowery, candid compliments are then fully enjoyable and taken just at face value.

Postcards from Costa del Bliss (aka, Sol)

Arabic details on buildings. A taste of richness and exoticness.

Fuengirola main church (Our Lady of Rosary), on a square, across the Municipality (Ayuntamiento), comme-il-faut!

"Patio Andaluz" in multi-levels and with waterfalls (Andalusian courtyard).

A view from under the gazebo.

A view from the port.

Fuengirola broad, endless beach.

Italia cut short and a short-cut to bliss!

I decided to spend time where the other 50% of my blood comes from: Spain! Do not ask me why, I felt I had to go to Spain.

Things happen. And they do for a reason. Italy did not work out and I then went with the flow and listened to myself. The pain of cutting Italia short led to an unexpected bliss in Spain! Maybe even a short-cut to bliss... 

Colorful flags, as vibrant as their represented; calm Mediterranean, as calm as its bathers; cool 'chiringuitos' (hay umbrellas), as cool as their users.

100% Spanish spirit: simple and happy! The typical "aljibe" (water well).

Fuengirola bay, in lovely, sunny Andalusia.

100% Spanish in Andalusian Fuengirola.

A taste of Arabic influence in Fuengirola.

Typical narrow walk-only street in Fuengirola, Costa del Sol, Andalucia.

Whitewashed mountain villages through the sea mist. Majestic Nature and humble humanity.

A New Start

I was planning and envisioned staying in Sorrento for a longer period. However, things happen. I decided to cut Italia short. In spite of a few invites to join friends and family in other cities, I had a strong hunch to spend time elsewhere...

Through Very Special Frames

Views from the caves through which you walk down to the beach (La Marinella, Sant'Agnello).

Plain Pretty, too.

Cocumela's cliffs falling into the Mediterranean.

Cocumela's tower.

Sant'Agnello's street by the cliff. Sweet and vibrant ingredients.

Steps up to the Historical Wall, old Sorrento. 

Arches at Historical Wall, old Sorrento.

Glisinas embracing the picturesque lamp post, as blue as the Sorrentine sky.

Entrance to La Cocumela, Sant'Agnello.

Piazetta at the top of the cliff by the water, backed by the mounts, at Sant'Agnello.

Between Sorrento and Sant'Agnello.

By La Cocumela.

Bell tower at La Cocumela's Church.

Through Special Frames

Vesuvius on a bed of 'aldeanas' and crowned by clouds.

Mediterranean framed by picturesque building and palm tree.

An old castle tower framed by typical greenery.

Picturesque interior of a walk-only tunnel in old Sorrento.

Through a bridge of historical center of Sorrento.

Vesuvius -always wrapped in its own veil-  under a glorietta of bougainvillea.