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When the rain comes

Raining gatos y peros today and as the woman in the info center curtly said "All museums in Spain are closed on Mondays." So we got the car from the underground and hit the road. We wandered east toward Guadix and saw how the troglodytes live. Both in the past and present, people in these parts make homes in caves. It's interesting to see hill tops with chimneys and TV antennas. There was a cave home museum, but it was, of course, closed. 

We drove past vast ceramics shops and up into the Sierra Nevada, so similar to much of the American west. (The sun came out briefly.)


But there are differences. This is all much greener, plus I've never seen olive groves in Wyoming. 
Furthermore, we have yet to see a police car on the highway or anyone anywhere pulled over. 

Speaking of cars, this Renault Clio with GPS is a car that nags. It beeps when you exceed the speed limit, it tweets when you're on a road that has radar (or at least that's what we think) it shuts off when you idle and it goes into Def Con 4 if you leave the headlights on.

One of the White Villages of Andalucia. 


We saw a castle, but only from outside because it's only open on Wednesdays OR you can ask around town where the castle keeper is and pay him to let you in. Instead we lunched at the restaurant down the hill made to recall the look of a castle. Mark had rabbit, I stuck with the mariscos. But, sad to say, the tastiest meal I've had so far was at Schwarma King. 

At one point, We stopped on the side of a rough road, strewn with trash, to recheck maps and Mark noticed an area dug out of the dirt on the roadside, no bigger than a laundry basket and about chest high. 


We have no idea what it means. 







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A musician lies here.


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