In the first chapter of his Tales of the Alhambra, Washington Irving captures the essence of the Andalusian countryside.
Many are apt to picture Spain to their imaginations as a soft southern region, decked out with all the luxuriant charms of voluptuous Italy. On the contrary, though there are exceptions in some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater part, it is a stern, melancholy country with rugged mountains and long sweeping plains destitute of trees and indescribably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary character of Africa.

But this time we were following in the footsteps of another well-known American writer. We were spending a day in Ronda.


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