
One of the best bits about foreign travel is that spectacular switching of the season, which, for somebody who's a bit partial to a slight spot of horticulture, is an endlessly magical thing. It's not just the flag, the fruit and the food - so many of the flowers in Spain are also that delicious orange, such as the bird of paradise flower in our holiday house garden and these random ospeospermum or rock roses (?) which were flowering amid the agaves in a tub in the town of Sorbas. I'm not even sure that they were planted there....
How glorious it must be to have these beauties just popping up everywhere - would you ever get bored of these colours?

ok that could be another reason why my home agaves are not so hot.


As for the ceramics - well, as you can see I'm easily pleased and I fell in love with this simple old wall plaque outside a house - I can imagine somebody having such fun using their finger in some wet clay to make the shape then dipping their finger into some blue and green paint to decorate this. Simple is often best and I love messages too. So I adored the effort that had gone into the naive painting on this restaurant sign. We don't really bother with that kind of thing here, do we but this kind of craft/ arty expression is unselfconsciously everywhere when you travel. Where I live there seems to be a deluge of outrage at any public art which I never understand.


Finally - the buildings. Of course the monuments and the churches are always stunning but it's when they are at their least pretentious that I'm most struck. There's nothing like a basic, simple old village square, is there? Or even a little house with a bit of bougainvillia tumbling over the boundary walls? I loved the way the windows on the neighbouring building were outlined in ochre echoing the colours of the building at the back. All completely random beauty and totally sympathetic yet undesigned in any way.
I'll leave you with my favourite image which is a reminder of a major source of income down there - the harvest of the sea. Was it the fishmonger himself who painted the outside of his shop? Maybe he roped in a mate or an artistic relative? It's even possible he paid a proper artist to come up with this joyful and celebratory design to encapsulate the treasures within. You know what I don't really care, it made me smile with delight - so gracias!
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