Ronda, Spain
I’m spending a few days in Ronda, a small, traditional Andalusian town in the far south of Spain. The weather continues to be great here in late November with lots of sun and highs approaching 70. My fleece jacket gets warm hiking around during the day.
Ronda’s big Instagram draw is the famous Puente Nuevo bridge which connects two parts of town — the old (La Ciudad) and the new (El Mercadillo). The bridge spans a narrow chasm which plunges over 390 feet straight down to the Guadalevín River below.
The “new” bridge was completed in 1793 after the original collapsed in 1741, killing 50 people. Amazingly, 230 years later, cars and delivery trucks rumble right over it and people line the sidewalks on both sides crossing back and forth.
I checked out the bridge from a few different angles and then broke away from the crowds. Beyond the bridge, Ronda gets quiet and atmospheric down its narrow streets and along its ancient walls.
This is home to one of the most historic bullrings in all of Spain. Like Las Ventas in Madrid, Plaza De Toros de Ronda is woven deeply into the local culture. The inaugural bull fighting event in 1784 resulted in a partial collapse of the stands, and the structure had to be closed temporarily for repairs. It reopened the next year in May of 1785.
While it may not be the oldest bull fighting ring in Spain, it is one of the first entirely constructed from stone, instead of a combination of stone and brick. The architecture is also unique in that all seating in the ring is covered. It is considered a rather small arena with only five thousand seats, but the bull ring itself is the largest in Spain.
Visitors were allowed to roam almost the entire facility, from the two levels of covered stands onto the massive dirt ring. I even wandered the inner stockades which houses and guides the bulls to the arena.
It was a beautiful facility and I noticed passionate attention to detail. Even the ceramic tile stair facings featured traditional Spanish scenes painted in blue and white including plenty of fierce bulls.
I hiked down to investigate an archeological site and ended up taking a seat just to soak up the landscape. This is possibly the last part of Europe to experience autumn. Trees here are changing and just beginning to drop leaves.
I stayed until a lizard ran across my leg and then yep, it was time to go.
My destination: Ronda’s incredibly-preserved Arabian baths. During the Muslim reign of the Moors, it was custom for visitors approaching city gates to purify and cleanse their bodies at bath houses before entering the Mosque to purify their souls.
Notice the star-shaped vents cut into the stone of the arched ceilings designed to let steam out and light in:
Back in town, I dropped into a small shop that caught my eye featuring tinted prints pressed from fine etchings. Pedro chatted away at me in Spanish, even after I admitted I couldn’t speak the language. He enthusiastically showed me how he mixed his paints, applied them to the etching and then pressed the image into paper.
The Spanish traditionally eat dinner very late compared to American standards — from 8 to 10 p.m. I’ve tried to shift my lunch and dinner times back to (somewhat) match. As you head out to find a tapas bar, it does give you the opportunity to admire town as the evening light fades and the wrought iron lamps generate a golden glow.
I’d read good reviews of Bar El Lechuguita and decided to check it out. It was extremely popular with locals and tourists alike so I arrived just as it opened at 8 p.m. Service was friendly and very fast. You marked the tapas you wanted on a sheet from more than 40 choices. Each tapa was just 1 Euro, so it encouraged you to sample.
The bar’s namesake dish, Lechuguita, looked like a simple slab of lettuce but it was covered in a delicious, spicy cream sauce. I also tried olives, mushrooms, spicy pork, different cheeses, skewered shrimp and more.
Quite a different Thanksgiving feast for me!
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