To be back in Spain again is a delight. To be back in Competa is a double delight. Even with the heat of summer, we find ourselves basking in the old world charm of this darling whitewashed village. It is delicious to feel the hum of village life in Competa, Spain. I am at home here among a multitude of friends and daily rituals. That can only come about through having been able to live where time has stopped for months on end. If I had been a mere tourist passing through the village on my way to whatever is next on the journey, I would never have developed such a strong bond. Yet, here I am, again, and it does suit me.
We arrived in Malaga from our long flight exhausted and very happy to see Martin, our Scottish driver, waiting with his car to take us on the last leg of our trip. Often, we have taken the bus from Malaga to Torre Del Mar where we changed buses to climb the mountain road to Competa. This time, however, Sandra, sent Martin to collect us.
Sandra has a lovely Spanish home in the village center that we will be caring for while she is in Switzerland and France visiting friends. Like all traditional Spanish homes, this house has multiple floors and terraces. With its thick walls, we just manage to stay comfortable during the long, hot afternoons. Our schedule is in keeping with Spanish wisdom, honoring the siesta almost entirely because of the afternoon heat. So, we are outside in the early morning until about 1PM and then return to our house for a nap, lunch and a bath. Since I am now a happy digital nomad, I also work in the afternoon. Around 7:30PM, we wander back outside as the evening air begins to shift from hot to pleasant. This evening, we have reserved a table at La Casona in the main village square where we will enjoy a beer or wine and tapas and watch the futbol match between Portugal and Spain. Afterwards, we will wander down to the Balcon de Competa and enjoy a nice meal around 9PM on the outdoor terrace where the evening breezes will be most welcome. From this vantage point, we will be able to see the twinkling lights of Torre Del Mar, about 25 kilometers down the mountain road, on the Mediterranean Sea. Not a bad sort of life for committed dalliers, I should say.