Cueva

We broke the drive to Monachil, near Granada, with a stop at Aguilar de la Frontera, which was Almodovarian - as we sat enjoying our cafe con leche in the town square signoras shouted gossip across the street, a couple of house painters lowered bedsheets carefully over some shop windows to protect them as they painted the air conditioning wires above a very particular shade of tan and a young man pulled his scooter up to the table next to us to converse loudly with it's occupants without turning off his engine. We did some good motorway services too - it wasn't even a long drive, we were just enjoying ourselves. And then, in contrast to our recent luxury, we were to spend the next few days in a cave. Katie in particular was slightly scared but it turned out to be a very nicely appointed cave - quite hobbity, in fact. It even had wi-fi...