They don’t really do our coffee in Spain. You seem to have to choose between cafe con leche (nothing like a latte – a bit yuck actually), cappucino (a small cafe con leche with a big dollop of cream) and a cortado (a short black with a small shot of milk) – probably the best choice!

So, in the morning one checks the weather from the balcony:

and heads out for the first cortado of the day:

before heading into one of the local ancient attractions:

 One can have too much of Moorish tiles, so after a while one can wander into the gardens, where the fountains bear strange decorations:

All that clearly calls for another cortado – and all that walking and the scent of the orange trees has thrown one off balance (or is the fountain really like that?):

The scent of these oranges is everywhere in the old city – but they are quite inedible, the raw taste being extraordinarily bitter. But they are apparently excellent for use in marmalade.

But back indo0rs – the old hospital for the care of the sick elderly, now houses a great little Velasquez collection,  and a marvelously decorated church. We caught it just as the organist was doing some practice for Holy Week:

After which, of course, another cortado:

Evening – so flamenco. Not allowed to photograph during performances, which are often on tiny stages. This is a really small one:

 

And after the performance – a cortado!

A bit bustly in the evenings! So at last one creeps home through  the courtyard gate:

 

Err..  hmm.. but who can resist a last cortado? Caffeine? Who sleeps here anyway?