so. ..

it was our last day here in dreamville andalucia.

i stumbled down, off the roof, to meet the day. fresh coffee and leftover stuff from the party last night. then i hear my guitar calling me ..  fernando’s living room always has a song or two hiding there somewhere. so i strum the perez brothers new born git for a bit.

down below i hear a scooter pulling up.

its rocio (girl with the bangs on the inside cover of “alegrias”).

she comes bounding in. she is shaking from the aftermath of an action packed episode.

she was able to undo the robbery of a tourista, whose money was being stolen out of her backpack while she was walking. rocio saw some mysterious character walking too close behind the woman and figured what was happening. then she raced up to the woman in her big green helmet and big pink sunglasses, bangs and all, and asked her in excitedly crumpled english to check her bag for anything missing. the woman looked shockingly at rocio who looked rather shocking. the woman saw her money was missing. then rocio sprung into action. she revved her scooter in the direction the man walked off in.

scooter girl zoomed after the robber like a super hero. caught him … then scolded him into giving the money back. super hero stuff. he handed her a wad of 500 euros and then plucked the empty wallet he had stashed in a window sill. gave that to her too. at the same time another dude on a scooter saw rocio spring into action and took off after her to assist.

rocio has always been my hero. she is a child cancer survivor having had 9 operations on her leg since when she was so very young. she went through hell. when you see her smile now, its coded with a soulfulness that only that kind of ordeal can mold. this is why it feels so good to be near her, just waiting for another smile. bam. the room blares with light, the plaza gets illuminated at night.

its that kind of smile.

so she came into fernando’s  shaken from success. defeating the bad guy and returning the money to the woman. upon receiving it she started crying, which made rocio cry too. she saved the day for her as well as the reputation of cordoba in the eyes of one tourista who will spread the word far and wide.

this is the city i love and the people that live there.

there is something in the water here. these ancient arabian wells from centuries past.

there’s something in the water. speaking of moons, there was a full one last night.

an extended morning in the plaza. talula wanted me to bring my new guitar there, so we did. sat at one of many tables there soaking in the sun stain. my woman off to buy herself a pair of fine boots just beside the café. me sitting around the table with lulu and some passers-by passing the guitar around. that’s what happens there. the guitar gets passed around like a joint. but the most wonderful music falls out of it there in the plaza.

talula picks it up and starts playing. her eyes glaze slightly like she is momentarily tapped in the zone of that ethereal river of flowing music we all tap into when such duende allows.

— – - -

the morning takes its time. the plaza walls off any effect of time passing, its arcs allowing each moment to breathe deep the allowance of us there clustered safe from the aging process.

luka shows up after sleeping in all morning up on the roof. he looks good here, though slightly exotic in his platinum hair and steel blue eyes, but blends nicely with a barce team shirt on, even though this is real madrid country.

then we all wobble off to the “astronaut” for lunch.

pablo greets us there with his contagious smile. eating there is always as magic as the music that spills from this town.

then its back to the roof. its going to be difficult leaving somewhere as perfect as this. but we all must keep moving. so we assemble. the wife repacks up all the kids stuff as i ponder over my mess. the packing is very slow and probably purposefully so.

now the clouds darken up in a glorious promise of storm. we head to the train. we are caravan. old school gypsy. so many bags and guitars and children, the gelbs and the lunds. a gypsy curse like this is such a fine blessing. the train is full so we wait one hour for the next and its absolutely wonderful to hang out even in the train station of cordoba.

tapas and cañas. splendor. the children happy. we slouch, family style.

then the train to madrid.

delirious spring storms threaten outside the windows here that blur the endless spans of olive trees that delight us all in lining the track for endless miles. the hills. rivers. the villages. earth in perfection.

– — -  -

but thieves  ….

….     beware of super  scooter girl !!!!