![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootWe were stressed you see, and exhaustion had charted our bones too thoroughly, so we ran away to an eco-ideal, cos we didn't need much; only warmth and ease.
It wasn't warm and it wasn't easy.
Of the Hoopoee Yurt hotel,larians amply expresses our disatisfactions in his post on the subject. I must say that seldom does a holiday drive me to poetry, and apologise in advance for subjecting you to my 'Omage du Conrad
If Mistah Kurtz (he dead)
had meant Yurtz
when he said
'Kill them all,'
We'd have had a ball!
There you go. It takes a lot for a place to do this to me.
There were many small issues, but I will only focus on a couple.
The first is that every yurt has its private area, which sounds lovely but means that actually, you can't explore the meadow much because you are in danger of bumping into someone's compost loo or shower. As the former is barely concealed and the latter not at all, bumping into someone during their ablutions is a real possibility. I love my friends but I don't need the image of them on the crapper burned into my brain. And anyway, the meadow is not to be walked on. Stay on the paths. It's a rule.
There were quite a few rules, for example, one small (don't go wasting it!) handful of sawdust/compost to be thrown in to the loo after use. Ladies can use the loos for urinating as well as defecation, and in a strange new twist bound to throw the ecological balance of the valley entirely out of kilter, the owners have conceded that gentlemen can now urinate in the loos too, as opposed to using the bushes. Doubtless you will be wondering at their rash generosity. What kind of tourist, having spent £80* a night on the place has the temerity to expect to piss in the toilet? The same kind of greedy capitalist who expects not to use a torch to find the hole in the middle of the night I expect. Crazy breadheads.
My second irritation was with our cute but non-fitting yurt doors. They had cracks big enough for every buzzbeastie in the valley except the hornets, who were so fat they had to wait til you opened the whole thing. Then they would fly in to catch their breath by sitting on the overhead light, making it rock slightly in their insect obesity. We could strap turret guns to the backs of these things and send them all to Gibraltar, thereby securing the Rock forever and saving on military spending. Or we could do some real good and turn them on the smug pseudo hippy hostess whose smile was rarer than sunlight on the sierra, only to be seen when she got our money.
On the plus side, the food and the company was absolutely terrific. And the area's pretty enough, a Spanish wildflower meadow deep in the mountains of Andalucia, near Ronda and the White Towns. When the sun shines it is more than pretty; it is delicate and tough and very beautiful.
Even in rotten weather the Serrania is dramatic,a country for stone giants and ogres. Massive rocks jut out of the cliffsides above the roads while cacti flower on the verges; mares and foals roam the land, deep caverns supply neolithic graffiti(http://www.cuevadelapileta.org/textos_archivos/pileta_2.html) and in the fields every goat seeks goaty empire, a rock of its own from which to bleat at non rock possessors. Most goats are successful, for the land lacks no rocks.
Not that the driver will see much of this, because beyond each kerb lies the potential to pass eagles and vultures on your way down. The roads are challenging enough due to narrowness and ill-kept condition; add rain and wind, mountain ledges and mist creeping low towards you, and the resulting effect could drive you to the Yorkshire moors for balm and comfort.
We weren't dressed for it, but more, we weren't mentally prepared for anything so like hassle. By the time our clothes were drying out and the sierra smiled on us with blue skies and great goldgreen crags,larians was like a suitor exasperated by his moody mistress; disenchanted, he suggested Tangiers and I leapt upon his suggestion in smiling despair. Then the holiday changed. But more of this in my next post...
* Now gone up to £100.
It wasn't warm and it wasn't easy.
Of the Hoopoee Yurt hotel,
larians amply expresses our disatisfactions in his post on the subject. I must say that seldom does a holiday drive me to poetry, and apologise in advance for subjecting you to my 'Omage du ConradIf Mistah Kurtz (he dead)
had meant Yurtz
when he said
'Kill them all,'
We'd have had a ball!
There you go. It takes a lot for a place to do this to me.
There were many small issues, but I will only focus on a couple.
The first is that every yurt has its private area, which sounds lovely but means that actually, you can't explore the meadow much because you are in danger of bumping into someone's compost loo or shower. As the former is barely concealed and the latter not at all, bumping into someone during their ablutions is a real possibility. I love my friends but I don't need the image of them on the crapper burned into my brain. And anyway, the meadow is not to be walked on. Stay on the paths. It's a rule.
There were quite a few rules, for example, one small (don't go wasting it!) handful of sawdust/compost to be thrown in to the loo after use. Ladies can use the loos for urinating as well as defecation, and in a strange new twist bound to throw the ecological balance of the valley entirely out of kilter, the owners have conceded that gentlemen can now urinate in the loos too, as opposed to using the bushes. Doubtless you will be wondering at their rash generosity. What kind of tourist, having spent £80* a night on the place has the temerity to expect to piss in the toilet? The same kind of greedy capitalist who expects not to use a torch to find the hole in the middle of the night I expect. Crazy breadheads.
My second irritation was with our cute but non-fitting yurt doors. They had cracks big enough for every buzzbeastie in the valley except the hornets, who were so fat they had to wait til you opened the whole thing. Then they would fly in to catch their breath by sitting on the overhead light, making it rock slightly in their insect obesity. We could strap turret guns to the backs of these things and send them all to Gibraltar, thereby securing the Rock forever and saving on military spending. Or we could do some real good and turn them on the smug pseudo hippy hostess whose smile was rarer than sunlight on the sierra, only to be seen when she got our money.
On the plus side, the food and the company was absolutely terrific. And the area's pretty enough, a Spanish wildflower meadow deep in the mountains of Andalucia, near Ronda and the White Towns. When the sun shines it is more than pretty; it is delicate and tough and very beautiful.
Even in rotten weather the Serrania is dramatic,a country for stone giants and ogres. Massive rocks jut out of the cliffsides above the roads while cacti flower on the verges; mares and foals roam the land, deep caverns supply neolithic graffiti(http://www.cuevadelapileta.org/textos_archivos/pileta_2.html) and in the fields every goat seeks goaty empire, a rock of its own from which to bleat at non rock possessors. Most goats are successful, for the land lacks no rocks.
Not that the driver will see much of this, because beyond each kerb lies the potential to pass eagles and vultures on your way down. The roads are challenging enough due to narrowness and ill-kept condition; add rain and wind, mountain ledges and mist creeping low towards you, and the resulting effect could drive you to the Yorkshire moors for balm and comfort.
We weren't dressed for it, but more, we weren't mentally prepared for anything so like hassle. By the time our clothes were drying out and the sierra smiled on us with blue skies and great goldgreen crags,
larians was like a suitor exasperated by his moody mistress; disenchanted, he suggested Tangiers and I leapt upon his suggestion in smiling despair. Then the holiday changed. But more of this in my next post...* Now gone up to £100.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}