Arrival in Córdoba

So the arrival to Cordaba was pretty pleasant. It was around 5 in the afternoon. The sun was still high up in the sky. A man with tattos, an older man, but with a young energy gave us a ride. Used this app called BlaBla car. Most of the drive there, him and another man were speaking Spanish up front, while me and Sara sat in the back, a very comfortable back. Black leather seats, a fresh scent and lots of space. Through the window you could see the vast empty lands. There were point where trees would cover these lands, but the trees were of a dry kind. I think most were Olive trees. Those short ones with pale leaves. I enjoyed the views, it's always enjoyable to see something brand new, to see new lanscapes, to smell things that you haven’t smelt before, and to hear a language that you somewhat understand, but not fully.

We arrived at the Airbnb, it was five something now. 7 was the house number. We buzzed the door, "Hola, Kamil". The pushed past the door and up the marble steps. Up to the 4th floor, where a man of old age opened the door and let us in. He was a scrony old man, with oversized clothes, glasses that made him look like a librarian, but he had a joyful character. We spoke a bit, in Spanish of course, I tried to the best of my ability to understand, but some words just slipped by. "y donde esta el bano?" - he showed up the bathroom. "y podemos usar la cocina?" - he hesitated a bit, but then I added "para café or te?" - "si, claro claro!". The last host wasn't so open as to letting us use her kitchen, she sort of seemed a bit defensive about it. But this guy was alright.

After unpacking a bit, taking a shower, and searching google maps for places to visit, we decided to head out. The buildings weren't "oh so special". Mostly blocks with balconies. Along the way palm trees stood high, mandarin trees lined the streets on both sides. The mandarins were green as the leaves on the trees - maybe the season hasn't rippened them yet. The streets seemed empty for some reason. Maybe the Spanish were still asleep. What a weird culture? How could a culture be so relaxed?

As we madeo our way the scenery changed. The building were no longer tall and boxy, now they were small, white, conjoined together. It's like all of the sudden we entered into a maze. Narrow streets would lead you down more narrow streets. At times you'd come across small town squares when you least expected it. And the occasional church, which was built decades ago. It all had a certain feeling to it.

We were finally noticing people. More and more as we head deeper down towards the city center. Our destination was a bike shop. We eventually arrived there. A bald looking, short guy, wearing a gray shirt that had some greese on it was fixing a bike in the back on the shop. He look at me with a frustrated face. I could see he didn't want to be borthered right now - man was at work. We asked for two bikes and got them. Two yellow bikes of normal size. Paid 12 euros for the both. It always seems like a good idea to ride a bike through a city you don't know. Walking is fun, but for some reason it's too slow, too boring for me. I need a bit of adreneline pumping through me. And even though "it's just bike riding" it's more exciting in a way.