Up early again, breakfast again, just as good as yesterday's. Then down the road east again, this time on a power-walk. No stopping, no photos, just march march march. Covered yestdays distance in half the time, then walked west from our hotel to the marina, a pleasant and much shorter walk. A photo-oportunity at a lighthouse, then a coffee and fries at a Burger-King restaurant. A taste of home.
Back to the hotel, a short nap after a bunwich and a glass of wine on the balcony.
Then hit the showers and got all pretty for a big night out, we are going to an Andalusian Horse Show and then a dinner with Flamenco Dancing.
The directions for being picked up by the event bus seemed a bit vague to me, but Jan and I went to the traffic roundabout as requested and, only about ten minutes late, the bus picked us up as advertised and we were off on our adventure. We wandered about Torremolinos picking up others from locations near their hotels, then, with the big bus practically full we left for the short ride to the Equestrian Center.
Some people who read this may know the long and storied history of Andalusian Horses and Riders, and about the discipline of Dressage. But I don't, and neither does Jan, so our simple story and pictures won't do justice to what we saw in the almost two hour performance. Given the Spanish history in North America, the role of the horse in the cattle-days of the American South West, the role of the cowboy and the Spanish Saddle, much of the Andalusian tradition must have come to the new world with the explorers and early Spanish settlers. However, driven by the need to 'head them up and move them out' in the cattle drives, the skills and training of the Andalusian style of disciplined riding must have given way to the stark necessities of 'riding the herd' from pasture to the railhead. Clearly, little remains of the tradition back in our home unless a horse show comes to town.
But here, holy cats, what a show. The riders are male and female, but very 'haughty, serious, and disciplined' as the announcer phrased it. And perfectly dressed in a short tight fitting jacket, flat-brimmed hat, and black pants, very professional. The horses are just stunning, white, gray, brown, or black in color, and large with heavy and well-defined muscles. Some with short tails, some with long, some with braided tails with little baubles decorating them. In the five 'dances' that constituted the performance, the horses walked, pranced, galloped, and hopped. The riders were all, always, in total control of the horses and seemed to communicate with them, getting them to step just a little higher or prance just a little more elegantly. The skill of the horses, and their list of tricks, seemed unnatural at best and other-worldly at times. They simply did things that it is hard to imagine an animal of that size could do. Or want to do, for that matter, though I suppose the 'wanting to' is taken care of by the discipline of training for both horse and rider. A most impressive show, we are delighted to have seen it.
Then, back on the bus, and off to dinner and to see a Flamenco Dance Show. At the restaurant we were greeted with a glass of Sangria each and a carnation for the ladies, then seated by the staff. There was a brief flurry of dance by two ladies in costume, during the salad course of dinner, followed by a photo-op as the ladies came around to the tables and posed with each couple. Nice, except that I had my mouth full of a large piece of bread and could neither swallow it nor smile as they stood behind us, so the picture is not my best. Following the soup, main, and desert courses, and after the lights were dimmed, the show began in earnest. The show was, in its own way, every bit as spectacular as the Andalusian Horses. There were five female dancers and one male, and the costumes were as colorful and varied as you could ever imagine. The low lights and fast moves made picture taking very difficult, but between us Jan and I have a couple to show. Mostly I took movies, about 7GB of them. The dancers clacked their castinettes, stamped their feet, flourished their dresses, and shouted from time to time, an extremely high intensity, high energy performance. The women were absolutly beautiful in their costumes, and the male dancer was a chubby little rooster of a man, who had immense stage presence and a stereotypical sense of his own importance to his little harem of females. The group played off each others energies and dances in a truly professional way, and I simply can't think of enough good words to describe the show. Just perfect, it was.
Over dinner we met our table companions, and two in particular, Dorothy and Herman, we chatted at length with. They were perfect dinner companions, extremely interesting to talk with. Both are European by birth, Dorothy having done a long stint in Canada, and they are now living happily in Spain. As I write this, they are on a ferry to Morocco and plan to stay for a few days. Life has so many opportunities for those with an adventurous spirit. And Jan and I will bus off to Malaga tomorrow morning. Not quite as breathtaking as Morocco, but we have a lot of time to go yet before we get home and many adventures yet in waiting.
