Cabra, Spain isn’t the sort of place you’d visit unless you had a reason. Brian and I are here because we have a friend who lives in Cabra teaching English. She has a two-bedroom apartment that she graciously opened up to us for a few days.
Cabra is an hour and a half drive from the nearest large town of Malaga. The people here are no-frills. They stare open-mouthed and unabashedly at this foreigner in florescent shoes because, even with a population of 20,000, everybody knows everybody in Cabra.
The residents of this small town are deeply committed to their siesta and it feels post-apocalyptic here between the hours of noon and three. But that’s why I like Cabra. It’s a proper Spanish town.
Runners and bikers are everywhere in Spain, in the big cities and small villages alike. From what I’ve witnessed the Spanish like to run between 8pm and 10pm– in the hours after work and before dinner. I’m still used to my morning running routine so I often have the sidewalks and bike paths all to my lonesome.
Why don’t you come along with me on my run through Cabra, Spain this morning?
I lace up the brand new running shoes that I purchased in Granada. Unfortunately the only color available in my size was day-glow yellow.
And then I step outside of the apartment doors and onto one of Cabra’s skinny streets.
I turn left through the main square where groups of elderly men and women gossip on benches,
and run down the main shopping corridor where women push baby carriages and school kids kick soccer balls off of the exterior walls of the church.
At the edge of town I turn left through the park lined with chairs and outdoor cafes.
I run down the street that leads out of town and past this tiny dog that has been guarding this corner each day since I arrived in Cabra.
One mile later I’ve arrived at the entrance of Cabra’s Fuente Del Rio park.
I run through the park and up this small hill
and onto this path that is popular with Spain’s many cyclists and runners.
I follow the path as it stretches it’s way past olive trees and out of town
and then I stop to stretch because, ahem, it’s been quite awhile since I’ve been running.
The view up here overlooks all of Cabra. It’s beautiful.
See what I mean?
But I can’t stay here forever. So I turn around and head back down the path towards Cabra.
I run out of the park and through one of Spain’s beloved round-abouts. Brian’s favorite new road trip phrase is, “when in doubt, round-about!”
Then I run back down the street and past the little dog still guarding her corner.
Then I turn down the street that the local Dia grocery store is on.
I stop to consider picking up some bread and avocado.
But decide to do my grocery shopping later. So I run back through the town square and down the street that leads to the apartment.
An hour later I’m showered and seated at an outdoor cafe imbibing my daily dose of cafe con leche.
I love starting my day with a run.
Thanks for coming along with me.
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