Gaucin, May 25 and El Colmenar May 26

I really wanted to walk to Benarrabá today because I wanted some distance, and besides, it is a continuation of the previous leg from El Colmenar to Gaucin.  Problem was: how to get back to Gaucin.  There used to be taxis here, but those businesses fell prey to COVID and now there is nary a one for miles around.  Daniel, el dueño, knowing how much I wanted to do this route, offered to pick me up, which was very kind.

The walk was going swimmingly until it wasn't.  Down at the bottom of I-don't-know-what, a sort of small canyon, where GyPSy said I was in exactly the right place, were three, vague, barely possible directions.  After a bit of musing, I was actually headed the right way; GyPSy said so! But you know my dictum:  "If it doesn't make sense it is probably wrong."  Well, between the boulders, and the briars and the thorns, which can be tenacious and actually aggressive—enough already with the cuts and the scratches—and lack of signage (itself maybe a sign since this route-segment is signed, sort of), and there not being a discernible path, AND a concern that I would not be at the pick-up spot when I was supposed to be if I spent a huge amount of time trying to figure this out, I reluctantly started the trek out of the "canyon." When I had enough of a signal I WhatsApped Daniel: "Pick-up cancelled; returning to Gaucin." Then it was all uphill in the heat.  

I did see a cow:                        

And the scenery remains beautiful:

And I certainly got some distance in for the day!

May 26. Last night there was a party on the terrace just below my window replete with music and a singer, amped.  The dinner music was performed by a solo guitarist who was, for sure, no protégé of Carlos Montoya. She kept playing La Malagueña over and over, and whenever she got to that distinctive, punctuating strum, she hit it so hard it made you jump! Perhaps that was the intention, but I will propose that people at a dinner party do not pay attention to the nuances of the music meant to give the event that je ne sais quois.  When the blues and jazz singer hit the podium, I put on the noise-canceling headphones whose effectiveness earned them the space they take up in the suitcase.

A last view of Gaucin.  Narrow streets cause people to park like this:

The walk back to El Colmenar was  as pleasant at it had been in the other direction.

Saw one Wilbur all by itself:

And, close by, a non-barking puppy. 

Before heading up to the hotel, where, BTW, I have a much more cheerful room, I added a little exploration of the riverbank. Lunch at one of the three bars in town was an I-am-kind-of-sorry-I-ate-there sort of affair, but it was a change from DIY.  

Tonight's music-to-go-to-sleep-by is bells on goats and the rare burro call.  Very sweet, indeed!