The ancient kingdom of Andalus is the place where we feel at home now, after escaping the worst of the winter there for quite a few years. One gets friends, both people and animals, feels one belongs, and even though the rough winter winds shook the darling buds of almond blossoms and the rain lashed down on the planes of Spain, the sun appeared unfailingly most mornings like a W.Turner painting and set ditto in a riot of colour.
The sun ripened grapefruit and oranges, pineapples and tomatoes, not to mention actually having to drive over lemons, gave us tastes that still linger. The zest of local olive oil, fresh olives fried in it, is heavenly! And wines. Made by friends from their own grapes, the sweet muscatel, that actually is not sweet at all, brightened our souls!
Stay with us at La Cascada, the cortijo we rented that sat above an olive grove and was in the middle of farmers and goatherds. Wake to birdsong. Sleep to barking dogs! But feel welcome.
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The sun ripened grapefruit and oranges, pineapples and tomatoes, not to mention actually having to drive over lemons, gave us tastes that still linger. The zest of local olive oil, fresh olives fried in it, is heavenly! And wines. Made by friends from their own grapes, the sweet muscatel, that actually is not sweet at all, brightened our souls!
Stay with us at La Cascada, the cortijo we rented that sat above an olive grove and was in the middle of farmers and goatherds. Wake to birdsong. Sleep to barking dogs! But feel welcome.
Back to TravelDoor