Calle Lorenzo Garcia, Gaucín, Málaga, Andalusia.
seen from United States

seen from Iraq

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from Russia
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
Calle Lorenzo Garcia, Gaucín, Málaga, Andalusia.
Andalucia - Malaga's White Villages
Today was the first of the daay trips, up into the mountains southeast of Marbella, to a couple of the White Villages. These are small villages perched on top of a mountain ridge where all the buildings are painted white, traditionally with whitewash, but now paint, so they don't have to repaint every year.
Here you can see the thin line of Gaucín in the saddle on top of the ridge.
It's a pretty town, but the streets are steep, some with steps.
There is an artist colony here, and we visited a couple of studios. This was the entrance to one.
The morning glories were a particularly beautiful variety.
The views of the countryside were great.
There were peaks scattered throughout the area.
We drove by Casares, another village, just stopping at an overlook before heading back to Marbella.
Most of the cork crop comes from the oak trees in this area. We could see where previous harvests had been made on the trunks of the trees. They need to wait sever years, between harvests.
Travels in Spain: Gaucín, My new Favorite Place
#Gaucín: My new favorite place in #Spain #Andalusia
This past Saturday I discovered what might become my favorite place in Spain so far: Gaucín. Gau-huh? Yeah, you’ve probably never heard of it. It’s a teeny tiny town of about 2,000 people in the mountains, all whitewashed, on the road from Ronda to Gibraltar, the A369. Apparently it used to be home to bandits and smugglers. It was accessible by a path that was compared to a ladder by some…
View On WordPress
Door
Door http://wp.me/s3vxGC-door
Door
On gray days we write poems of Gaucín’s whitewashed houses reflecting blue sky, pink roof tiles, houses cascading down the marble mountainside like a cubist waterfall.
Hanging on one house is a locked door the size of a small coffin lid, stained red, scarified from age, weather and, on the inside, the scratching of a ghost child, an angelito, pining for the Río Genal, for the valley below, b…
View On WordPress
#Gaucín #Malaga (her: Gaucín)