Hello, once again, Blogonauts!

When we cobbled together our itinerary, our merry band of travelers had left one night of our Iberian escapade unplanned.

When that time arrived on Wednesday, we decided to escape city life for one night before we drove to Spain's biggest metropolis, Madrid.

So this idea led us to into the mountains that lie south of Granada, in the Alpujarra region. Clustered beneath Mt. Mulhacen (the tallest peak in the Iberian Peninsula) sit several small, white-washed villages. And the uppermost outpost in this grouping is the hamlet of Capileira.

On our way there, crooked roads carried us past precipitous rocky cliffs, and unexpectedly, lofty electricity-generating windmills set between the valleys and ever-higher sierras. Just as we began to wonder whether the road had twisted us (and our respective tummies) into inescapable knots, we reached Capileira, which sits at the top end of the spiraling pavement. Its 1436-meter (~4700-foot) elevation allows for spectacular views from the terraced roadways and from our hotel balconies.

After checking in, we embarked on a 3-hour hike up one side of a ravine and down the other. At the apex of this wedge sat an abandoned village. The local hydroelectric plant probably once needed tending, but now automation has apparently eliminated the need for a few families to live so far away from the rest of the community. The buildings were beginning to crumble.

The mountains, rock formations, and streams were beautiful along the entire trek, but it was odd not to see any wildlife other than an occasional insect or silent bird. Perhaps the heat of the midday Spanish sun discouraged them from venturing fourth. (We encountered perhaps a dozen other hikers along the way, but we appeared to be the only ones visiting from the U.S.)

When returned to Capileira, the heat of the day had begun to wane. One thing I have yet to mention is the joys and challenges presented by adjusting to Spanish daylight. During this time of the year, the sun does not set until well past 8:00 P.M., and so remaining active far into the evenings is easy. However, snagging such late sunlight after the autumn equinox means that you must rob it from somewhere else. Therefore, the sky remained pitch black here until almost 8:00 A.M.! Many hotels leave their lobby lights low until almost 9:00, and on weekends, breakfast often doesn’t begin until then. Mid-afternoon siestas still occur, although not so prominently, I’m told, as in earlier days.

Our meal schedule has adjusted to accommodate the Spanish way of life, so we went out to dinner around 9 P.M. As if to reassure us that wild mammals still exist in Spain, as we sat enjoying our meal and playing cards on the terrace of a local restaurant, several bats began to emerge and flit about overhead.

On Thursday, we retraced our automobile tracks out of the mountains, and then scooted onto the highway to Madrid. But more on that later.