‘Papa’ Hemingway, I understand your Ronda,Spain

Ronda,Spain

This is long before I woke up to the word Ronda on my map. I watched a movie called Zindagi na milegi dobara and that was the time in my life I was smitten by Spain and its beauty. This dates back to the time when I was in the clutches of time and work. I thought about money, assets, success and fame. Like the modern world which seems to be in this labyrinth called life and yet it doesn’t cease to gape at the wonder of beautiful quotes. I wrote this piece of poetry from the movie and decided that I would ponder on it when I get back from office. That day I never returned and only I went deeper into the cavernous world of livelihood.

In the movie the actor who is a jingle writer is in search of his father who left him years ago in search of life and art.The actor now on a road trip, knowingly and yet strangely their paths cross at his home in Grazalema, Cadiz Spain. On the way to Seville they cross the famous Puente Nuevo Bridge of Ronda. Just for fraction of seconds I paused, the beauty and enormity of this Moorish structure stuck to my brains.

If you carry impatience in your heart then you are alive
If you carry dreams in your eyes then you are alive
Learn to live like the free waves of wind
Learn to flow like the sea does as waves
Receive every moment in life with open arms
Every moment is a new beginning seeing with your eyes
If you carry surprise in your eyes then you are alive
If you carry impatience in your heart then you are alive – Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara!

I started reading voraciously about Ronda.Its history, the people and most importantly about Hemingway and his passion for Spain and adventure. Until then I knew him as a figure who screwed my literature with his old man and the sea fable. 🙂

Ernest Hemingway

The world knows him as a Noble and Pulitzer laureate with exceptional words and enriching literature and fiction. But behind every successful man there is a saga untold or unheard. Other than Hemingway’s enthusiast his life remains glossy. He was a man on adrenaline-rush, masculine, man of action, war fighter, journalist, passive bullfighter, Spanish enthusiast, fisherman, hunter, four times married and most importantly a gambler of words. But also a man bundled in his own complexities of life and childhood and family. A man who was always high on life,sadly ended his life with a double barrelled gun.

Romantic Ronda

One morning I took a bus from Seville to Ronda from the Bus Station El Prado de San Sebastián with no places to see but just tread on the footsteps of Ernest Hemingway and Orson Wells. The travel is a mountainous ride crossing green pastures, blue rivulets lining the way and many picturesque villages. Once it reached the Ronda Bus station I saw a row of apartments and swanky cars,certainly taken aback as I had come with notion of medieval era architecture in mind. 🙂 Being a hot day I wanted to refill my parched throat with some liquid. I went to a nearby bar while Mr .H has the cerveza, I gurgled down sangria.I had the most delicious olives in Ronda and patata brava for the cherub and a succulent beef burger for the man of the house. Hemingway once told a Spanish friend “You might say I cut my wisdom teeth nibbling on olives in the Chicote,”. Perhaps I did mine in Ronda. I started walking through the alleys and the high street praying desperately if Hemingway’s ghost came-by to say a ‘Hi’.

You slowly come to the town square,Plaza de Espana flanked by bric-a-brace, white garment, antiques and Spanish pottery shops.Tons of Gelato to drown the whole town and restaurants boasting of true Anduslasian dine-ins.To my right is the ancient bullring, Plaza de Toros and to my left is the El Tajo, the 300-foot deep canyon that splits the old and new pueblos. This is the point where Hemingway’s words from the book In Death in the Afternoon (1932) strike you:

There is one town that would be better than Aranjuez to see your first
bullfight in if you are only going to see one and that is Ronda. That is
where you should go if you ever go to Spain on a honeymoon or if you
ever bolt with anyone. The entire town and as far as you can see in any
direction is romantic background….

Ronda is the cradle to modern bullfighting. The modern matador standing on foot in the bullring rather than riding horse to confront the bull. You see the village of Ronda precariously hanging over a limestone cliff and the skyline dominated by more mountains. You see the pueblo blancos or white village of Ronda with winding cobbled alleys, white washed houses with flowers overhanging the balconies, ornate doors and patchwork architecture speaking poetry in my ears. I would love to stand with my beloved at the edge of the bridge and overlook the subdued romanticism which inspired many an artists and historians.The romans, moors and the Spanish crusadors have all left a mark on this glorious landscape.

Old Quarters 

Beyond the New bridge are the old parts of the evolving town where life is slow. I am prowling the author’s way and let my feet do the speaking while the mind danced to the trance. We decided to stay the night at Hotel San Gabriel which was a haunt of the author himself. Someone kept the faucet open, the church bell clanging, the other alley was a dead-end,a few poses on the antique doors, the boutique shops were sparse and that helps me buy a few postcards and souvenirs.

Books

Fiesta: The sun also rises(1926) : This is a romance based in the backdrop of the Spanish bullfight is like a virtual guide to Pamplona where the San Fermin festival is hosted.

Death in the Afternoon: This is like a visual guide to the art of bullfighting. A tribute to a sport he loved devotedly.

For Whom the Bell Tolls(1940): Many believed that the novel is based on the Spanish civil war and a series of events have been woven around Ronda like the fascist massacre over the .But I love how Hemingway argues back saying that a writer has “the obligation to invent truer than things can be true“.

The Dangerous Summer : Published Posthumously,describes the rivalry between two matadors.

On my way back

On my way back I peep down one last time into the canyon, I couldn’t descend the steps because I had the company of a young cherub 🙂 who is more precious to me than thousand such descends. They say the path is craggy with Andulasian vegetation of fauna & flora. The river Guadalevin over the centuries has cut this intricate gorge with shows natures finest carving into stone. For me the structure is solemn with years of oppression and conquest. Yet wondrous of the fact to see the skyline and believe that yes the sun also rises.I borrowed the El Tajo click from a fellow traveller to preserve the magnanimity of the moment which I  missed.

I went looking for the Arab baths but somehow I lost my way. Yes you can sometimes lose way in the smallest of towns. I have no regrets because I came here to understand the Ronda of Ernest Hemingway and let my heart preside over the touristy brain.

Bull-Fighting

I hesitated to write about this and feared that my admiration for this man shouldn’t be marred by my opinion of this sport or art as he perceived it. I am scared to write as it plays with the subject of death and bloodshed.The carnality of the red muleta raging the bull or frugality of the cut ear to celebrate victory doesn’t agree with my soul. Hemingway’s on the other hand with his masculine style of writing made love with death on the bullring. He connected with bull fighting at the spiritual level and endorsed the bravery of the matador or the bull being reduced to blood and sand. I on the other side of mortals find spirituality in fear. Though there is uncertainty either ways. But I have taken solace in ignorance while he is a true story-teller who believes “All stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that from you.” – Hemingway’s words.

Photography

I never intended to photograph Ronda. I wanted to be a causal writer more than a photographer. These are random clicks juxtaposed to fit into the travel story. When I sat down for editing the usual self would have bumped up the saturation and contrast. But I reserved the colour palette for the cooler tones (blue channel). I did not wish to garner any attention towards photography but more on the writers thoughts.