A Short Journey Through Andalusia: My petty side on show in Bolonia

November 3, 2009

Eventually we were on the road south to Bolonia. This beach is one of the best-kept secrets of the Andalusian coast - so well-hidden that it's even tough to find on Google Maps. So why Bolonia? Good sea swimming, wide beaches and ... a fabulous ancient Roman site excavated close to the water named Baelo Claudio, a town built around the industry of salting fish.

As time was pressing we went straight onto the beach. My wife swam, again, and I played around with my camera, again. I wonder still that such a beautiful beach is almost devoid of people. It is no windier than other locations on this south-west coast.

The backdrop to the beach is equally pretty - the craggy hills of the Sierra de la Plata and the lowlands forested with pines, and as an additional plus point the Roman site lies almost within a hand's reach of the sea.

We ate our sandwiches, and then headed off for coffee. The cafes are tucked away behind vegetation inside an enclosure set at right angles to the beach. This means that the small cafe buildings are not easily visible from the beach itself, and helps preserve the beauty of the sea front.

All this segues me smoothly into an episode of triviality, spite and childish behaviour on my part.

Before we took our places on the beach I had been keen to use the loo, so naturally went to one of the cafes. I asked politely, but the owner of the first one waved his no-no finger and said the Aseos were private. Mean git, I thought, I bet they would be available if we ate there. So I went to one further on and the lady there was ultra-nice, and "Aseos? - no problem." So I hatched a plan to get my own back: I would return later, and order coffee from her place, and drink it demonstrably with gusto outside at one of her tables, so that when the mean git glanced down the road he would see me. I would then give him a practised look that involved lots of eye-brow raising and pursed lips and communicate the message "Look at me not spending my three euros in your establishment, meany. Regretting it now?" And he would look all crest-fallen and learn a valuable lesson.

But the joke was on me. I chose the cafe where the lady had been so friendly, and we sat down on the metal chairs at the metal table, the sun gleaming off the surfaces and sparrows squawking around our feet. We ordered our coffee. Suddenly who do we see striding around inside the cafe but Mr Grumpy, ordering the waitress around. He owned all the cafes there! Sod it. And he got his own back double, by deliberately switching off the water supply when my wife went in to the Aseos to wash her hands. It was an evil conspiracy, the whole thing, and I deliberately said Adios to her but not him. Take that!

My plan of revenge foiled, and after our coffee we packed up our bags and began walking along the beach back to the car. I think Grumps was telling her to basically get the place closed up for the evening while we were still finishing off.

Oh well , some you win, some you lose - and most were never there in the first place...

We walked along the coast path back to the car. The path offers wonderful views over the beach to the African coast. As I looked out over the sea I was again astonished, and grateful, that this area has not attracted hoards of tourists and development.

We had now just less than one hour before dark to visit the Roman site, despite this having been our main goal for today.

The Roman factories at Baelo Claudia produced garum - a spicy mix of fish entrails, blood and heads - and packed it off to Rome by the shipload. As a result the site was enormously valued by the Romans, and the Emperor Claudius marked its significance by lending his name to the town.

Unfortunately a massive mausoleum-style rectangular museum and cultural centre has been built right next to the site since we were last there. I was pretty annoyed at how inappropriate the building was for the setting, but after my own wiser counsel prevailed I conceded that maybe a building was needed to house some of the many artefacts found. And, to be fair, inside is a very successfully implemented exhibition. But why design it like a marble-fronted warehouse? Null points for that architect. Looking back now at the photos I think I am being too unkind.

Last time we visited the site we were late and could only grab 30 minutes from the little old guard in his gatehouse. Now late again, we worried that a new regime would be in place, Stalinist in keeping with the new architectural design. But actually they were very flexible. And wonderfully non-officious.