Friday, February 8 // Viernes, 8 de febrero
ENGLISH
Ronda was the trip we all needed. Our bus winded through grassy mountains and vineyards for a little under two hours and we were there. Ronda is south of Sevilla and located in the province of Málaga. The city consists of an old town and a new town which are separated by a bridge that connects the two cliffs of a massive gorge. The bridge is one of the main attractions of Ronda along with the oldest bullring in the world, La Plaza de Toros (Bull Square).
Before our tour started, we got breakfast at a café - my roommate and I shared huevos rotos con jamón y aceite de trufa (eggs with ham and truffle oil).
Our group had a tour guide take us around the city. The tour was supposed to be in English but our group voted to have it in Spanish, so he informed us about the history of the city in Spanish - I didn't catch every detail, but he talked a lot so I was bound to miss something.
We first checked out the bullring and its attached museum. We learned that bull fighting/matadors originated on horses in order for men to train for war. Men rode horseback around the city squares in order to improve their coordination and skill, and it eventually evolved into the spectacle it is today. There is a divided opinion in Spain about bullfighting; some people believe it is torturous for the bulls and some people believe that it is a rich tradition and part of the culture of the area.
Stepping onto the yellow sand of the ring was unbelievable. I have never seen a bullfight yet I felt intimidated by all of the open space - a bull could rush across the sand in seconds while it would take a human much, much longer. Our tour guide said that the most dangerous thing a matador can do is fall in the middle of the ring, because it takes the least time for the bull to get to him. Apparently one matador has died in the Ronda ring in its existence.
I loved seeing how bullfighting has evolved over the years and how it has influenced art and culture over time; there were lots of beautiful paintings and costumes in the museum and it made me realize how much I didn't know about the country I am living in for the next few months. I would love to learn more about the history of bull fighting and why, if it is so gruesome and dangerous, does it persist as part of the culture of Spain. Its origin makes more sense to me now but I wonder if locals have passion for the tradition or if tourists buy most of the tickets for the bullfights, since they don't occur very often. In the whole time I am in Spain there will only be a few bullfights, all around Semana Santa (Holy Week). I hope I am able to go to one just to experience it.
Back to the tour: the monstrous bridge was easily the most impressive part of Ronda. I had seen photos of the bridge before we arrived, and I expected it to be a monument that we could look at from far away since it cut into the land so deep down. It looked so ancient and isolated in the photos online.
After we left the bullring, we walked towards the old town and all of the sudden we were on the bridge. I was shocked because it was the main street that all of the cars drove over in order to get from one part of town to the other. The bridge was constructed in 1793 - fifty people died in its construction - and it is still thriving today. Everyone in our group whipped out their phones and ran to the sides of the bridge to take photos and take in the gorgeous views of down below and out into the countryside.
There is a bit of an inappropriate Spanish joke about the bridge; apparently when you go on the bridge and look down for the first time, you're so overwhelmed by the height that you shout "coño!" The word is a swear that means multiple things, so I obviously didn't say it. However, I laughed to myself when I looked down and remembered the joke that I heard the previous night from some Sevillanos at intercambio.
Our tour wrapped up with a walk through the old town where there were convents and people used to put on markets until they had to pay taxes. This is the very reason the new town was created - so people could sell their things outside of city limits and get out of paying taxes. I love learning little facts like that because the city seems so polished until you realize that people just like us have been living there forever and they have been doing ridiculous things since the beginning of time too!
We then had a few hours to explore the city on our own. Most of us rushed back to the bridge because our tour guide had told us about a street that led to some stairs down the cliff to get a better view of the bridge. We all ate the lunches that our host mothers packed us and laughed at how similar they were. Each of us had un bocadillo (sandwich on a baguette), drink, and a piece of fruit. It was so nice to sit back and enjoy the scenery together, just talking and eating and breathing in the mountain air.
Later, Toni, Kelley and I explored the streets of the city. It was mostly tourists or locals at restaurants and bars in the small main area of the city so we ducked in and out of shops, looking at all of the classic tourist magnets and products but also the hand painted ceramics and oil paintings. I was tempted to buy a Ronda sticker for my notebook but it's pretty full and I figured I could start a new tradition of some sort. We shall see!
A highlight of the day was that I spotted a wild peacock! I was so proud - I'm looking right at you, Eisenhauer family. There were three peacocks in total and one extended his feathers. It was soooooo cool!
The lowlight of the day was that I did not feel good on the bus to and from Ronda. I sat by Kelley on the ride back to Sevilla and I felt bad because I didn't talk to her the whole time; I had to put in headphones and listen to music while closing my eyes because I felt so nauseous. My plan for the next bus trip we go on is to sit in the front!
I am pretty proud of some of the Ronda pictures, so take a look below!! If you would like to see all the photos I took in Ronda, check out my Facebook page!
