Sunday, November 25, 2018

Algodonales

My husband often goes to Algodonales in Andalusia for the paragliding. Two years ago I spent three days there with him. I liked it so much that I was really looking forward to be there again for a whole week with him.

Algodonales is a small town and is one of the White Villages (Pueblos Blancos), but is not as pretty and touristic as the neighboring villages of Zahara or Olvera. But the town is famous for the optimum conditions for paragliding. Thats why it is a very lively place, typically spanish without any touristic attractions.




I had a wonderful week. Every morning we had breakfast with some of the pilots in one of the bars in the Plaza. 




Afterwords they disappeared and I had the day for myself with my sketchbook and many interesting encounters.


















































Once, as I was settling myself on my stool, a lady came from her house and was worried that I was not allright. She thought that I had sat down because I didn’t feel well. She offered me Cola or water and showed me where she lived in case I needed anything.



I sketched the Plaza during the siesta. It was just wonderful, I was sitting there for a long time, maybe 3 hours, on a bench under a shadey lemon tree enjoying the stillness. Another older lady came to watch what I was doing. She was amazed and showed me her house in the sketch „mi casa, mi casa“. 2 paraglider came by every half hour to check the development of the sketch.

As I was drawing this narrow street a woman who lived in the house nearby realized, that I was not comfortable on my little stool. She brought me a chair from her house. Other women passed by, saw what I was doing and showed me their hands which were spotted with color. I understood, that they had just come from painting classes.

















































After a couple of days I was often greeted in a very friendly way by passesby as if they knew me. 

One day I visited Zahara, on another




















































Olvera. I couldn’t get enough of this view of these White Villages. Below the colorful church the white houses splashed with yellow tumbled down the hill.

 




During the late afternoons I often used to go to the landing field. As each pilot landed Pepe was there with his drinks cart offering each a cold beer. The atmosphere was a mixture of an exitement and relief in the evening sun.





In the evening it became social again on the plaza with tapas and vino tinto.