Spain Trip Part I - Bubion

We saved some money by booking a 6:40am flight out of Bristol, and then spent that money sleeping at an airport hotel the night before we left. The kids loved the hotel and restaurant so our adventure was off to a good start. Friday morning we left cold, dark, and wet Bristol and arrived in warm, sunny, and dry Malaga. For me, slipping back into speaking Spanish was like riding a bicycle. Well, maybe a rusty and clunky bicycle, but, hey, it has been 20 years since I lived in Spain.

We took off in our rental car along a road that hugged the coast. En route we caught glimpses of cliffs dropping into the blue Mediterranean Sea and haphazard white-washed and colorful tiled beach towns huddled in the coves. We stopped for a quick bite to eat – tortilla Espanola (egg and potato omelet) and café con leche (wonderful strong coffee and milk) – before beginning the harrowing swervy steep climb up the Alpujarras Mountains. The hairpin turns and jerking of the manual car on the steep climbs was too much for Liv’s tummy and we pulled over a couple of times for her to expel her first Spanish meal. The three of us who were not staring at the ground enjoyed the views of the snowcapped Sierra Nevadas, which descended into arid rocky hills and plunged into the blue Mediterranean. On one of the stops, Noah and Liv plucked oranges and lemons off the trees in a small grove by the road. As we climbed the mountain, we passed several tiny white-washed and stone villages, which appeared like patches of snow clinging to the rock face.

Eventually we reached Bubion, a sleepy village of some 200 people, which is just a couple of miles below the snowline and the end of the road. Eve – our rental owner – met us at a little restaurant in Bubion and guided us by foot through the very narrow, steep, and windy streets and alleys of Bubion. We admired the ingenious and ancient system of channeling the cold snow-melt water through the town, with the water being diverted into fountains and washing areas. As we made our way to our house, Eve pointed out her favorite two restaurants in the town, which I believe might have been the only two restaurants in town.

We arrived at our house, La Casa de Musica, which is a picturesque rustic house. It is a renovated 500 year-old house constructed in the typical Alpujarran style of wood, stone, and white-washed clay. The ceiling consists of wooden beams, which support flat slate stones. The white clay walls inside are curvy with frequent cubbies carved into them. The windows are framed by thick and rich dark wood and shutters. The tile and stone floors were smooth and colorful. Our windows, upstairs large patio, and porch made of rock, branches, and bamboo all had breathtaking views through the mountains. Our house was on the outskirts of town, so there were plenty of twisty gnarly trees and outdoors for exploring. One of the cold water channels/streams ran next to our house, and the kids and I enjoyed watching our stick, leaf, and other “boats” start from high up above the hill and continue along the waterway toward the next town down the mountain.

There was one downside (no pun intended) to our gorgeous little cliff-clutching house – it was cold. When the sun dipped behind the mountain top, the temperature fell, and our stone home became an icebox. We turned on all of the radiators and promptly blew a fuse. We flipped the fuse box, turned off all of the lights, left on the radiators, and left for dinner hoping to return to a cozy home. Dinner was at a “restaurant”, which seemed to be in the living room of a man’s house. Not only did he own the home and eatery, but he was the host, waiter, and cook. Luckily there were only two other tables each with two people, which did fill the 3-table restaurant. After a great meal, we headed home. Upon entering the house, we found that the fuse had blown again and the house was beyond nippy. The kids found it funny that they could see their breath inside the house. We flipped the fuse box and turned on only the radiators in the bathroom and each of our bedrooms. We then cuddled up with blankets and went to bed.

In the morning, we scampered between the three warm zones; dressing and eating either in our bedrooms or the bathroom. Soon the sun came up and we headed out. After breakfast, we hiked along a windy path, which followed a stream, to the lower town of Panandiera. We poked into the various little shops and enjoyed lunch at an outdoor cafe. After dinner of paella and sangria at the other Bubion restaurant, I attempted, unsuccessfully, to make fires in both the upstairs and downstairs fireplaces. Again we scampered among our islands of warmth and had a fine time before falling asleep.

The next day we drove down the mountain to explore Granada and the Alhambra. Liv did much better and we only had to pull over once for her to be sick. The Alhambra is a true marvel, and consists of the grand Moorish palace, castle, and gardens with views down into Granada and beyond into the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas. We toured the site for most of the day and then walked into Granada for a late lunch at an outdoor café in a plaza.

On the drive back to Bubion, we pulled over and bought a bag of oranges from a little woman on the side of the road. Rachelle and I have never had better oranges and all of us must have eaten about 3-a-day for the rest of our 10-day trip. That evening we drove up to the highest village – a mile up the road and right at the snowline – Capiera for dinner. This village is a bit more bustling with close to 700 residents, and dinner was great. That night I was again unable to start a fire despite having bought some toxic, chemical fire-starter cubes and wood. Noah comforted me by suggesting that the problem was that the wood was ice cold. We cuddled up in our beds and looked forward to the next segment of our trip – the warm beach town, La Herradura.