Location: Merida, Spain
She held the limp sprig that was infested with star-shaped flowers under her nose and inhaled the aroma with a sigh.
She stopped tethering the wilted plant into her hair and muttered softly “you know jasmine flowers are a sedative?”
He smiled and took her hand in his; she was gleaming.
She stopped tethering the wilted plant into her hair and muttered softly “you know jasmine flowers are a sedative?”
He smiled and took her hand in his; she was gleaming.
The sun gently caressed the horizon in welcome while rising into the blue skies kissing my cheeks with warmth. As we wandered through the rows of houses stickiness filled our nostrils as a warning to the searing day ahead. Wasps swarmed around water fountains foraging the neighbouring flowers and the growl of our famished stomachs interrupted the bird’s morning melodies. We past a wired fence catching stray glimpses of the roman ruins behind the vegetation’s curtain. My hunger was soon forgotten and my drowsiness was replaced with an excitement that could not be contained. The rational Superman lead me into a café adjacent the ruins entrance and ordered our breakfast. I fidgeted in my chair restlessly in an attempt to peer over the line of people.. Why was it taking so long? I glared at the wait staff laughing casually behind the counter and the sounds of plates could be heart in the kitchen. After an eternity of waiting our naked table was clothed with orange juice, bitter coffee, fragrant crusty toast, spanish ham and juicy tomatoes. I scoffed down my meal without chewing like a ravenous duck in anticipation while watching Superman impatiently. He placed down his fork in satisfaction leaning back in his chair. Grasping his hand I dragged him through the café, through the doors and up to the entrance of the ruins in anxious suspense.
Walking through the perfectly maintained arches and across the Amphitheatre of Merida, dust blanketed our feet and dehydrated plants seeped through the cracks in thirst. Gladiators had fought here in their elaborate costumes and blood had been shed on this very ground. It was mind boggling to contemplate. After hours exploring the surrounding theatre, bathing houses and crumbling columns we walked through the centre of the city where roman ruins from 100BC were scattered in abundance. As the day warmed we took refuge under an old tree adjacent the chariot arena, which would have easily occupied 3 football pitches. I wondered, what had this tree witnessed in its life? Horses rippling with muscle circled the field, their hooves pounded into the earth creating a cloud of dirt with their grunts unheard over the crowds hungry roar. I sighed at the now empty grounds wishing I could converse with trees. Peering into the blue skies I noticed my friendly tree was sprouting delicious figs just out of our grasp. Climbing and balancing precariously on Superman’s strong shoulders I gathered the ripe fruit by the handfuls. Laying on the hot rocks we shared this luscious pleasure. Our fingers tore into the flesh painting our hands with sticky juices, the tanginess of the seeds swirled around our mouths and the view around us faded into obscurity.
That evening while waiting for our dinner I was beaming in exhaustion reflecting on our day. We had explored the Crypt of Santa Eulalia, we stumbled across crumbling aqueducts, we walked underneath one of the largest bridges from the Roman Empire only to find ourselves at the Alcazaba Fortress. Finishing our day we wondered through the deserted streets from the locals who had retreated from the day’s heat. As our meals arrived we feasted on canned carrot soup (yum!), sardines and chocolate mousse.
For those who may feel inclined to try this obscure concoction I advise against it - sardines and chocolate don’t work well together!
For those who may feel inclined to try this obscure concoction I advise against it - sardines and chocolate don’t work well together!