Days 91-98, 11-18 September 2014, Fuengirola and excursion to Cordoba, Spain.

Bargains abounded at the last Saturday Flea Market - managed to find a genuine, A-grade, top level knock-off Gucci cabin bag for only €3. I am so far out of the loop on the handbag front that the only reason I know it's a Gucci is because it says so inside. Basically it looked sturdy and it managed to carry 2 pineapples home without falling apart - which is perfect. Purpose of needing an essentially disposable bag? Well, my Easyjet flight to Paris includes only 20kg in hold luggage, and I have no doubt my bag will weigh in at closer to the "normal" weight of 23 kg... but Easyjet does allow a non-weighed cabin bag so long as it measures no more than 50/40/20 cm... So my perfectly proportioned Gucci bag will probably weigh at least 8 kg by the time I'm finished with it. Other bargain of the day? Slippers! Well little black synthetic boots lined with synthetic fur - like mock-uggs. Millions of Synthetics were killed in the production of these boots - but for €2 they fit the bill for a couple of months of feet-warming in frosty France before my real Uggs arrive with James. Now aside from a bargain, which you all know I love, the highlight of the week was a massive, huge, 14 hour, (almost too big to be called a daytrip), day trip to COR-doba (not Cor-DOB-a). I left the house at 6.15 am on Thursday morning, walked 3.5 kms down to the waterfront (first bus in these parts not 'til 7.45 am). Met the coach at 7.10 am and after picking up seemingly half the populations of Germany, Italy and France en-route, finally made it to Cordoba by 11 am. Did I mention that Summer is finally thinking about shutting shop in Spain? There was actual torrential rain as we arrived into Cordoba and quite a cool day all round. Thankfully the rain stopped for the duration of the visit and our group of 68 (read "hell on earth with it's eyes and ears painted on") got underway. Pictured you can see the Calahorra Tower (late 12th C) and the Roman Bridge (1st C BC and extensively rebuilt/restored/reconstructed ever since). This was our starting point. Past the tower and over the bridge we then began our tour of the famous/infamous Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba. This architectural monster started life as a Roman temple... then church. Was destroyed with the arrival of Islam in 800 odd AD. Turned into the biggest, most amazing Mosque pretty much in the world with constant extensions and enhancements, right up until the Catholic Monarchs took over again in the late 1400s - when it was completely consecrated, lost 200 of it's 1000 plus columns and had a Cathedral built in the middle of it - pretty much like it had been delivered from space by the same little green men who built the pyramids. Enough to send an architect around the bend - every style under the sun, even original elements of the Roman church utilised in the early part of the mosque - column capitals and so forth used. Stunning place and still in use for Catholic services - and obviously, tourism at €8 per head. Which, given parts of it are 1400 years old, probably gets used in the constant battle of preservation and restoration. Out of the Mosque eventually and off for a walking tour with our long-suffering local guide (I'm serious... he asked all the men in the group to remove their hats when entering the building... the bloke with the hearing aid and walking stick had to be yelled at several times until he paid attention and understood. Me? I'd been considering decapitation). Of course the classic, all time "WTF" question of the tour came as we stood in the cathedral and another duffer asked the guide what the organist was playing... Music? Pipe Organ? Nope... he actually expected the guide to name the piece of music. I was all for "The Theme from StarWars". Off into the historical quarter we went, very quaint, very touristy. Found the House of the Bulls interesting. During Lent, if you wanted to eat meat, you had to go to this particular place, pay a fee and then you could. Money may not buy happiness, but it certainly keeps religious folk on the right side of their own particular set of rules. Reminds me of nothing more than the Old Kerk in Amsterdam, smack in the middle of the Red Light district, where sailors could buy "pardons" in advance of sinning their socks (and trousers) off all night long. We strolled the Jewish quarter and saw one of the 3 remaining mosques in Cordoba. Having spent 300 odd years interrogating, torturing and confiscating the property of non-Catholics during the Spanish Inquisition from 1500-1800 approx, they finally got their wish and expelled them all during the 17th century. Which leads neatly on to what I did after the guided tour... I tootled in to the Galeria de la Inquisicion. It was fascinating and sickening in equal measure. It makes what the world's current batch of zealous and power crazy fanatics are doing look like failing to recycle your glass bottles. What went on in order to achieve pure (non-Jewish, non-Moorish) blood was horrendous. If they could have gotten rid of women entirely as well then that would probably have been the icing on the cake. I think I'd understood enough about it to realise a lot of torture had gone on. I never knew that the vast majority of the torture was so inhumane, vicious and vile that almost everyone died anyway from infection and permanent deformation and injury. Anyway. Made it out alive and took a moment to calm down... in retrospect probably should have had lunch before I visited the museum, because it (almost) put me off eating. I battled on however and decided to treat myself to a full-on, sit-down restaurant experience with tablecloths and everything in one of Cordoba's famous "patios". Essentially outdoor courtyards featuring, usually, a well or fountain, lots of flowers and pot plants and these days, a restaurant. Ordered calimari and potato wedges with aioli. Which turned out not to be potato wedges as we might expect - more so potato salad with very, very garlicky mayonaise. Yummy but I felt sorry for my seat-mate on the trip home! Had a glass of fino and a coffee to follow - all very Spanish. (Also a completely justifiable way to practice my Spanish). Bought postcards, strolled the old town and made it back to the coach in time for the rain to start again. We left at 3.45 pm and I made it home by 8 pm. Fourteen hours from start to finish - awesome outing, value for money, but just a tad too long methinks. Check out the album for the final 50 odd photos of the day (cut down from 160 taken!)