In Andalucia I am alive. I am closer to the rich red Earth when I pick the olives and the oranges from the trees and when I watch the glowing sun go down behind the Eucalyptus trees and the tumbling hills. Everything including life seems simpler here when I drive by the horses in the arid fields and more magical when I hear the dresses and the dance of the women and the song and the voices of the men. Be careful because a trip down here could turn your dreams on your head, could make you loose your heart and throw riches to the wind for love and simple pleasures. I gaze at the little white washed towns. I gaze at the tanned strong men with dark hair, dark eyes and mysterious ways taking their well groomed stallions with shinning fur and plated mains down to the village fair and all I can do is watch and long to run away from my comforts, money and possessions and leave it all behind to spend a life in the arms of a raggle-taggle gypsy-o.
Indeed each little community, each little cluster of white houses could be an ideal setting for such a love story, or the inspiration behind such a scandalous and romantic love song. This field was where they lay, and that horse was the one that the Lord used when he rode out to try to get her to come back to her servants and goose feathered bed. The little church overlooking the sea of the a fisherman’s village El Terron where we had lunch could have been the place that they got married one warm summer’s night, in secret, witnessed only by the stars and the gaze of moon.
Those are all the things which rush through my mind as we travel deeper into the countryside. But who really knows what lies behind those low houses with tiled porches and barred windows? And what life fills the gap between the yellow lines framing both humble and noble buildings alike?
Are these lines an attempt by men to bring some order to a life otherwise determined by God, or are they just a way of marking where order ends and where the passions of the human spirit begin?
White top – SALSA JEANS
White shorts – BAY
Wedge Flip Flops – GUESS
Raggle Taggle Gypsy-O is a famous Scottish folk song which I came to know through the Walking Wounded ‘s (Hackney) version of it. It has come to be one of my favorite songs 🙂