First, a Romantic weekend in 2007
I worked in Gibraltar between September 2007 and March 2008. The first time I went to Ronda was when Simon, a long-lost work colleague (who incidentally introduced me to the music of Bonobo ), kindly suggested Ronda as somewhere I might go for a romantic weekend with my wife, due to visit at the weekend from England. That’s two things I owe the lost Simon for, but sadly I think I will never be able to repay him, as we lost touch in 2008 when I stopped working in Gibraltar.
In the many journeys life has brought my way, the enchanting old Spanish town of Ronda holds a special place. On the outskirts the new town of modern flats and mundane buildings, not so much. My memories associated with the picturesque old town however, span across years, with the very first pages dating back to that chilly January day in 2007, when we arrived for the first time. At that time I was not aware there would be other chilly mornings for me to experience in Ronda, but I’ll deal with 2023 later.
hire car experiences
I managed to hire a car, a Mercedes A-Class, which is not easy in Spain when you don’t speak the language, don’t know the best place to hire from, nor the small spaces you need to negotiate parking in the underground car parks, which can be an interesting experience, and of course returning the car to the hire shop.
Departing from Gibraltar, the drive to Ronda offers captivating views that heighten the anticipation of reaching the town. As someone who appreciates nature’s grandeur, this journey always leaves me lost in thought, wonder and prayer.
The mountain roads can be poorly maintained with regular pot holes and a varying camber but at least there are a few roadside ventas to feed the soul and body of the weary traveller. On a cold day we enjoyed some heartwarming, wholesome food at the venta La Laja, our midway stopping point on the trip. I’m sure it helped our expeditionary force succeed in crossing the Serrano de Ronda! And they say Edmund Hillary had it bad…
accommodation notes
The local tourism office was our first stopping point in town. Thankfully the staff’s English was splendid and after a brief search for accommodation, we settled on staying at Hotel Enfrente Arte on Calle Real, just a hop, skip and a jump from downtown.
For those who haven’t had the privilege of staying at this hotel, which has since changed owners, you will now have to imagine a blend of artistic flair, vintage charm, and warm hospitality. A glimpse of the updated hotel captured here provides a glimmer of the original hotel’s unique ambiance. Every corner seemed to narrate a tale, each artefact carefully chosen to enhance the guest’s experience.
visiting for goyesca de ronda with friends in 2010
Three years on, in 2010, the charm of Ronda pulled me back, but this time it was a double date, when our close friends Roy and Sylvie, accompanied us.
Before Roy and Sylvia had arrived however we had an amazing time preceding the town’s parade from Ronda all the way to the feria ground. We saw everything there was to be seen in the parade and all the fun of the feria afterwards.
This visit wasn’t just about soaking in the town’s beauty and its historic charm; it was also about embracing one of Spain’s deep-rooted traditions – the Corrida Goyesca de Ronda. There has been such a corrida in Ronda since 1954 when the first was held to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of Ronda’s own Pedro Romero.
Money being more plenty in those days (compared with today!) I attended all three days, from the novilleros (novice bullfighters) and rejoneadores (bullfighter on horseback)to the highlight – the toreadors (the big experienced stars).
Roy joined me for the final big day with Francisco Rivera Ordoñez, Enrique Ponce, and Sebastian Castella providing the thrills and spills. Each event painted a vivid picture of the Spanish bullfighting tradition, its grace, its controversy, its spirit.
On the following day we enjoyed the ladies in their beautiful Spanish dresses in landaus and the horses of the Maestranza parading through the streets.
rondan celebrities
A walk along Calle de Ernest Hemingway took me down memory lane, as it is named after the famed writer who found solace and inspiration in Ronda. Below is Papa (Hemingway’s nickname), with the revered bullfighter Antonio Ordóñez who was Francisco Rivera Ordoñez‘s father. The great film director Orson Welles was another famous part-time resident of Ronda. After his death in 1985, his ashes were buried in a well on the rural property of Antonio Ordóñez who also sadly died in 1998.
tajo gorge
But, of all the memories etched during that trip, the panoramic view of the Tajo Gorge, from the iconic Puente Nuevo stands out. The gorge, with its sheer drop and the river flowing beneath, is a testament to nature’s artistry. Watching the sun cast its golden hue over the vast expanse, remains one of my cherished memories.
Another cold start in Ronda
Fast-forward to 2023, 13 years after our previous visit. This time around, the journey to Ronda had a different flavour. Instead of the familiar car journey, Roy and I embarked on a train expedition from Estacion de San Roque the nearest train station to Gibraltar. We weren’t that far away from the coronavirus pandemic era so we nearly didn’t get on the train as masks were required to be worn and we hadn’t thought of this. Fortunately a train official had a bundle and kindly gave us two.
The cold was biting, which a stark contrast to previous roasting hot visits. But Ronda, with its eternal charm, made it all worth it.
Hot chocolate and churros
Hot chocolate and churros were welcome warming fuel on arrival at the first lit café, Tu Rinçon Dulce, (roughly translated as Your Sweet Corner) we found in Ronda on that bitterly cold early morning.
Having thawed out, we strolled into town, stopping in the Plaza de España outside the Parador, to stand like meerkats opening our arms to stand in the rising sun and take in its marvellous warmth. Popping out of a shop later, I had to get a snap of these two sisters carrying their comestibles back to the convent.
the parador de ronda
Arriving outside the entrance to the Parador de Ronda the biggest hotel in Ronda, formed in 1994 out of the town hall and a food market, Roy and I couldn’t resist capturing the moment with a quick photo taken by a passing taxi driver. The hotel, with its grandeur and history, stands like a sentinel overlooking the Tajo Gorge and also over the Plaza de España.
Venturing inside, we were transported into a luxurious modern hotel. The Parador de Ronda has an association with the legendary writer, Ernest Hemingway. He used this very location as a setting for a very chilling scene in his book, For Whom the Bell Tolls, in which the Nationalists beat Republicans with staffs (rumoured to be an embellishment by Hemingway) and then hurl them to their deaths in the gorge below.
Today, this lovely Parador exudes an amazing calm and tranquility, far from its tumultuous depiction in Hemingway’s narrative.
an art exhibition inside the parador de ronda
Inside Roy and I were lucky enough to find an exhibition of wonderful paintings, linked inexorably to the cultural tradition of the town, bullfighting.
the oldest bullring in spain
We couldn’t leave Ronda without visiting the Plaza de la Real Maestranza de Caballeria bullring built in 1794 for the museum tour and a gratuitous walk across the famous sand. In fact the sand looked like the finest I had ever seen, a far cry from Blackpool’s own. Glancing at the door where the bull runs out brought me another chill, one of many experienced on this day!
One of the best things we did that day was to try and recreate a photo taken of me in 2007, at my request! I can’t tell you how long the long- suffering Roy spent clicking, while I posed for photos followed by a comparison with the 2007 edition. But it was very sunny, although still cold, and difficult to see the screen. So we still got it wrong! What an excuse to go back next year, and make another attempt!
caféteria de estaçion de ronda
Finally, pretty exhausted by this time, as the cold rose following the setting of the sun, we stopped to snap some faded bullfight posters for the town of Ubrique. At last, as the railway station hove into view we stopped at its café before our return train journey to San Roque to savour the very reasonably priced 3 course lunch (with beer for me, of course) we hadn’t previously found time for, in the town.
volver pronto! (return soon!)
Each visit to Ronda has been unique, woven with threads of new experiences, while also retracing steps from previous journeys. The town, with its rich history, breathtaking views, its many bars, cafés and restaurants and the warmth of its people, beckons time and again. As I pen these memories, I am filled with gratitude for the times gone by, and anticipation for the next chapter Ronda has in store for me. I only hope it will be soon!
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