The Clapping Song

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For most of my life I thought Flamenco was a type of dance for tall women in swooshy red frocks...then discovered that the term actually references the music they dance to.  The songs are delivered in an operatic style with dramatic overacting, lots of angst, wailing and clapping...a LOT of clapping  Since I am already widely known to be a bit of Philistine I may as well admit that I don't care for it.  The centrepiece of last night's village celebrations was what can best be described as 'rock flamenco'...in other words ordinary flamenco but delivered by a sort of Spanish Jon Bon Jovi in leather trousers.  Rock flamenco is just as shite as the regular stuff IMHO!

This didn't seem to deter the locals who were 30 deep in front of the stage and doing an excellent impression of people having a great Friday night!

Our Indian was very good, though we quickly realised that every single table was occupied by Brits and you can sort of see why the Spanish are up in arms about the impact of tourism all along the Med coast.  I am aware that moaning about restaurants opening late, then moaning about them being full of brits because they open early, is a bit unreasonable...but I have never claimed to be a reasonable man.

After yesterday's climbing our legs were a little sore so we stuck to the coast, heading west towards Malaga.  We had a cold drink in Rincon de la Victoria, turned round and rode back.  Perhaps the meteorologists amongst you would explain how we had a headwind BOTH ways.

We now find ourselves hungry and at a loose end so are heading out for a proper Spanish leisurely late lunch.

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