I am on vacation right now. Sometimes you just need to exfoliate, get the hell out of your château and explore the world. Made my way down the coast to Biarritz, crossed the border into Spain, meandered through St. Jean de Luz, down to Riogordo, and then the car broke down in Ronda, which is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.
At the urging of a good friend, I explored this ancient, dramatic city and all of the medieval, historic charm it offers. The theatrical escarpments and views take the breath from your lungs and it’s really cute that the Puente Nuevo was constructed in 1751.
So here I am, enjoying this lovely city, not knowing where tomorrow will take me. Presently, a dark-eyebrowed, high cheek-boned waiter is serving me what’s called a “Paloma”. Not because he knows I like Mexicans, but because grapefruit in this region of Spain right now is amazing. Skin the color of rose petals. And I don’t even like grapefruit, but this is a lovely drink. Oh. And because I smiled when he told me that it translates into “my dove”. I am a dove.
Here’s the breakdown. 1/4 c fresh grapefruit, 1T fresh lime juice, 1t sugar, 1/4 c (good) tequila, and 1/4 c club soda.
I would send you the recipe but I’m too busy enjoying myself.
Bisous,
M.
(Maybe Morocco tomorrow)
You deserve a vacation, miss!
June 22, 2015 at 3:33 pmBisous, Ange. Yes, I DO. xx
June 22, 2015 at 3:49 pmThat bridge at dusk is one of the most spectacular views in Spain. If the rain Gods have blessed you, the waterfall will be gorgeous.
June 22, 2015 at 4:07 pmCharline, exploring the other-wordly hills surrounding the town presently. It’s heaven on earth.
June 22, 2015 at 4:25 pmAnd where is the bull fighter? Wainscoting back at the ranch? I hope you left him a long list of tasks so that you can enjoy yourself and come home to an even more beautiful abode.
June 22, 2015 at 4:50 pmI was going to go solo, but then I didn’t want to drive and he finally convinced me that we should just throw caution to the wind and leave. Not sure what state she will be in when we return. Pierre (the artist up the lane) said he would feed the chickens and water the gardens. But he’s sort of unpredictable. Whatever. This is too fun.
June 22, 2015 at 5:12 pm