It’s odd to me, that landscapes can look so similar across continents and oceans. When I traveled by train through the Tuscan countryside, I was shocked at how similar the rolling hills were to Southern California.
And here in Ronda, I could see how California’s hills were mirrored once again in the tile roofs and the rocky mountains hidden behind the foothills. I saw Northern California in the groves and vineyards, in the types of trees and the endless skies.
To my surprise, Ronda was one of my favorite stops along my tour of Andalucía. White washed towns sprinkled among the beautiful rolling hills sprinkled the countryside. It was quaint and comforting.
A community of people living together, eating dinners together, and welcoming travelers in with smiles and tapas.
We explored the grand bridge, and the crevasse below, imagining ourselves in a different time, perhaps before the bridge when you had to travel to the bottom of the waterfall to reach the other side of the town.
We walked in the bullring, walking among matadors and bulls, embracing the culture, the past and the present.
At sunset, my friend and I found ourselves leaving the large canyon that separates the city, we saw the sun reflect on the white walls and the rolling hills. And as a lover of sunsets, I am one who always believes that a sunset should be reflected in the ocean, and don’t always fancy the sunsets inland.
But tucked away in these hills, in this cozy town, I loved this sunset and this beautiful landscape.