The rain in Spain

I’m getting a little fed up with wind, rain, thunder storms and gloomy skies – this is not what I signed up for.

Despite the weather gods’ tantrums Merida proved to be a delight. Following my recce of the first afternoon, I determined not to let the elements spoil my sightseeing and the frequent heavy showers didn’t dampen anything other than my clothes.

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The Roman amphitheatre and the theatre stand side by side at the top of the hill …

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The Temple of Diana is half way down one of the main streets …

The Alcazaba which started life as a Roman fort, took a new life after restoration by the Visigoths and finally became a Moorish citadel before falling into ruin …

The Roman bridge, adjacent to the Alcazaba, across the R. Guardiana (the very same that forms the border between Spain and Portugal further south) has not suffered from flood damage as has the bridge at Avignon and is therefore superior at 732 metres long …

Lusitania as it was called in Roman times boasts two aquaducts of which the St Lázaro (tho’ it wouldn’t’ve been called that at the time) is the better preserved …

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Storks (not butter) nest on pillars all along the aqueduct Los Milagros.

 

Spot the sunny snap – there is one!!

Well it’s sou’westers and galoshes on for another LWD walk then …

🙂 🙂 🙂

Superstardom …

and I now understand why the superstars resort to drink and drugs. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

Spent a couple of days in Arles discovering what the Romans did for Them (apologies Pythons) – sport, culture and the arts, fresh water ….

Then popped over into the Camargue

and that’s where the fans caught up with me. I was followed, mobbed and then attacked. Without my security guards I had no option but to leave after one night and return to anonymity. I’m a Mozzie Magnet, a Blood Babe despite liberal use of jungle strength repellant, wine, garlic and tea tree ointment. Needless to say I did not leave a forwarding address.

Diverting via the Pont du Gard (Romans again, got everywhere) I’m sheltering in Avignon to see what the old Popes got up to when they weren’t sur le pont d’Avignon. You’ve got to hand it to the French, they do love their ponts and viaducs.

Le Pont du Gard

🙂 🙂 🙂