Traveling to a tiny village where we are booked for the next 3 nights...Cartajima. The high mountain village cannot be reached directly. First, a 3 hour bus ride from Málaga to Ronda where the manager of El Refugio hostel in Cartajima will meet us.
Put the packs together, settle the bill,
and hike to the bus station...!
Less than an hour until departure,
but the metro construction and our poor map complicated the situation.
We made it to ticketing with minutes to spare!
Stowed our packs under the bus, and boarded the air conditioned messenger to the mountains moving forward in adventure!
Shooting from the window, we rumble along the resort-driven Costa del Sol.
As we wind into Ronda, the views are spectacular.
Finding a cafe with a patio, we sit at our known destination: bus station in Ronda...waiting for a man named “Botz” with a British accent to drive us high into the Andalucian mountains.
Soon a lanky, sun dried man with long hair greyed at the temples approaches our table and introduces himself as “Botz”.
An opportunity to sample the flavor of our guide: punk in London, estranged in India, chef in Athens, hostels in Amsterdam...great storytelling!
A choice of shared dorm rooms with hanging loft beds, or a private double room with exposed dark wood beams out of the white plastered walls.
For dinner, our host prepared an excellent Mountain Paella. Much tastier than our experience in Malaga, this dish did not contain shellfish, but chorizo and chicken.
After dinner, we stayed up drinking San Miguel, and getting to know our new friend, Botz, in the candlelight of the terrace.
Whereabouts: bus station in Ronda. No maps of the city, not sure what direction we came from. Payphone with a few false starts, and able to connect with Botz, the manager of El Refugio in Cartajima.
Finding a cafe with a patio, we sit at our known destination: bus station in Ronda...waiting for a man named “Botz” with a British accent to drive us high into the Andalucian mountains.
Sharing a beer, watching the cars and people, Ronda has a different feel that is much more enjoyable than Malaga. Relaxed, more exotic, and quaint.
Soon a lanky, sun dried man with long hair greyed at the temples approaches our table and introduces himself as “Botz”.
Into the Sierra de Ronda mountains we stop on the way at a wayside cantina for a bocadillo (sandwich), cerveza, and for Botz a local sherry.
An opportunity to sample the flavor of our guide: punk in London, estranged in India, chef in Athens, hostels in Amsterdam...great storytelling!
Curving around narrow alley and tight turns to one white building out of many. We unload the gear and groceries from the van and enter for a tour of the mountain hide away, El Refugio.
A choice of shared dorm rooms with hanging loft beds, or a private double room with exposed dark wood beams out of the white plastered walls.
A half-sized door under the stairs opens into bejeweled mosaic stairs leading down to a silky, Moroccan style sitting area.
The prize of the property is the terrace built by Botz and the other Refugio owners. Overlooking the entire valley and neighboring Pueblos Blancos villages, El Refugio's terrace is one of my favorite places in the world.
For dinner, our host prepared an excellent Mountain Paella. Much tastier than our experience in Malaga, this dish did not contain shellfish, but chorizo and chicken.
After dinner, we stayed up drinking San Miguel, and getting to know our new friend, Botz, in the candlelight of the terrace.
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