OK, here goes the Cartajima story ...
Thanks to Adil for fixing the pesky
A great fine day and spring is evident everywhere.
We have decided to spend the night in the village of Cartajima, one of the famed 'pueblas blancos' of the mountains of Andalucia ... somewhere on the horizon.
Along a narrow road, we spot the village, nestled between hills of chestnut trees.
A short drive later, we are in the only village square, a cramped patch of space next to the church.
This is a typical Andalucian white village, a legacy of the Arab Moors who ruled Iberia between the 8th and 16th centuries.
A short walk from the car, and there it is, our home for the night.
The owner-manager, Botz, a genial Englishman from Plymouth, is full of tips and stories - he has been here for 5 years.
But first he invites us in for coffee ...
... followed by an invitation to climb the 'ladder' to his terrace, atop the house. Spectacular views all around, and fresh breezy air too.
And there's another white village a few kms away.
I said 'ladder' because that's what we use to move from floor to floor. Definitely not for kids or old folks.
And our comfy bedroom, tucked in this 250-year-old building. Well at least 250, Botz says, but there's a Roman marble at the front door which could easily be 2000 years old!
Apart from phones (both cell and wired), this is the main link to the rest of the world.
I check emails while a group of friends keep me company.
> TO BE CONTINUED