Sunday Morning Spirituality: Vejer de La Frontera

Vejer de la Frontera, Spain

Our second stop on our cruise from Barcelona to Dover was Cadiz, Spain. I had visited before so I wasn’t too psyched about going back. I typically don’t like to revisit places, especially ones I hadn’t loved to begin with. What I remembered of Cadiz was a port town, kind of dirty and getting driven by a 70 year old lunatic named Bartolomeo on the cruise ship pier against our will going 90 miles a hour. Needless to say, I didn’t want to relive that experience, but Cadiz surprised me. It was clean and lovely and not at all how I remembered it. They have done a lot in the eight years since I was there. I took a wonderful tour of Cadiz with a guy I met named Bob, and we had a great afternoon touring Cadiz. (That will be saved for another post.) Since it's Sunday, I want to talk about Vejer de la Frontera.

Vejer de la Frontera was once the border between the Christian and Moorish worlds. We arrived in early morning before the town was really awake. A few old men wandered the streets. One had a loaf of bread in his hand. Another man spoke to a woman above, who opened her window to lean out and chat.

Lady in the window chatting

Our guide walked us through the old town, so charming and beautiful and in harmony. It was chilly and so quiet as the town slept and we had the privilege of enjoying the morning without a mob of people, cars or buses.

Honestly I don’t remember much about what she said that day. I mostly remember how I felt … full of peace and serenity on a Sunday morning.

Cathedral in Vejer de la Frontera

my traveling feet

 I had thought I took the picture of my traveling feet in Barcelona, but actually it was here in Vejer de la Frontera. I love the cobblestones and the wad of paper on the ground.

Last but not least, I didn't notice until my husband pointed it out - that the photo above has graffiti that says, "My name is Bombe."