Turn down your metronome. Switch off. Wind back. And breath. Falling in love in Autumn leaves. Wandering white villages, wet webs across ravines in mornings dew. Slowing down to watch the sun; Rise over mountains, peek through skeletons of autumn trees, fade on a cloud dusted horizon. A daily rhythm; letting dust settle, a lonely cloud unfolds. How much of our time is spent pondering the past or waiting for the next moment to arise?

Passing the half way point of our trip, tentacles of relaxation finally found us.  Switching off, for me, is hard.  Flow-states found in caring for others, solving problems for clients and cardio-the-house-down, can be consuming. Reminded, behind them all an ever present silence and stillness to tap into. Daily meditation helps me skim the pond.  Stopping in Mecina and the Alpujarra mountains, bought me back to consciousness basecamp!

Cycling up the Laou Gorg, a last gift from Morocco.  Sheer drops, crumbling tracks, coal fire pits like smouldering extra-terrestrial capsules blocking our path. Epic to the end. Then a final night in Tangiers before the crossing to Tarifa.  Meeting on the boat, Becky and Kas bought smiles, love and teabags for our Spanish decompression.  Walking the wild windy beaches and idyllic old city, the tension we’d been holding in North Africa dissolved.

Becky’s been my best buddy for 30 years. These people we share lives with, hold a reminder of the constant we’ve been amongst the unfolding chapters and seasons of time.  Although we’d seen each other in the UK, having space together away from daily norms was priceless.  Getting to know people, even those we love and hold closest, a never ending story.  Big thanks to B and Kas for recharging us on all levels for the road ahead.

The sea and wind of Andalucīas southern coast are magical.  Living in Windy Wellington in Aotearoa (NZ) you’re kept honest and cleaned out by natures bluster.  Sharing the coastal road with kitesurfers in the sky, crystal blue seas and mountains growing beneath us bought some kiwi energy.  Mellowing out in campsites overlooking it all as we slowly meandered in land, perfect.

Autumn’s gone gangbusters on our journey across these mountains.  Trees on fire, burning in white light of lower suns. A cathedral like majesty of Alameda del Tajo took our breath away in Ronda. The falling golden ceiling of Himalayan Cedars at it’s heart, almost echo-like in it’s slow decaying structure.  The Japanese have a word for this beautiful transition, Wabi-Sabi, that we learnt in relation to the falling of dusty pink cherry blossom flowers during the Hanami celebrations. I’d take a life of back to back Autumns any-day!

Andalucīa is breathtaking. I’d explored it a wee bit whilst my brother was posted to Gibraltar with the British Army, but this has been Donkey’s first time.  People watching in squares and cafes of mountain towns, just the ticket.  Cycling as always, keeping our minds clear and appetites ready for gelato fuelled crowd-gazing.

Reuniting with Brendon, B’s uni buddy, in Malaga was a slice of city life.  Daily temperatures cooling, the evenings an unexpected treat.  Still warm, families, friends and neighbours walk the streets, chat at a bar, relax. An enticing Spanish beat. Brendon showed us the sights. We shared food and stories with his mum, an artist who’s been here for 10-15 years, who confirmed that life here is never in a rush 🙂

An easier cycle up the Costa del Sol. Camping, winding in and out and up and down of small towns.  Turning in land from Playa Granada to begin the ascent into the Sierra Nevada.  10 years ago, I’d read the book Driving over Lemons.  A story of relocation to a remote farm in this region in the 80’s.  Setting up a self-sustaining life, shaped and determined by nature.  It captured my heart to a more simple life, and I didn’t know we were coming here until I looked at the map.  A happy happenstance, and constant testament to Donkeys never ending planning #keepingusrolling

Arriving in Orgiva, an alternative, multi-national, sustainable living vibe greeted us at the weekly market. Laid back, quiet, community focused. People moved slowly, spoke quietly, the town humming along a chilled web.  Church bells chiming, even melodic dog barking, bought us towards the mountain tempo. 

Then up into La Taha del Pietras, restocking the panniers at the namesake town before rolling down to Mecina.  We’ve travelled much of the world and never found a silence and peace like we’ve stumbled across here.  These white villages sustain an eclectic, kind, international, inter-sufficient community.  With snow on the distant peaks of the Sierra Nevada the only village sounds beyond the chiming of the church towers, the gentle running of water to the communal washing and drinking fountains scattered amidst the streets and squares. 

Bathed in Autumns backdrop, we’d planned to stay 3 nights but changed it to 10. Days walking on silver-stoned mountain tracks.  Quartz crevices sparkling in the sun.  Villages nestled in the Moorish terraces hanging above the Trevelez River.  Rays of falling sunshine, leaves of every hue slowly tumbling to crunch beneath our feet.  Zig-zag descents and climbs in and out of the dark gorg. Amongst a vast silence of expansive nature, imbibed by a gentle tick-tock of community living.  Making acquaintances on corners of tracks or the local bars and cafes, hearing about a way of life we didn’t know existed.  Winding down, being still, finding peace in the present moment.

We’ve reached Granada after a sad farewell to Mecina.  Another hang with Brendon to explore the city today before the bus to Madrid.  The Irish Fam meet us (whoop whoop) for a few days before flying to SE Asia to begin the next leg. Being back in this neck of the global woods has been heaven.  Discovering new places, reconnecting with lovely faces, getting out of our comfort zones, being flexible to the inevitable change that’s greeted us each day and (finally) remembering how to switch off and chill!

Onwards as ever 🙂

B&T