patioed out

In Andalusia, houses tend to arrange themselves around little courtyards, rather than next to a garden. These patios/courtyards were open to the sky, provided light wells and ventilation and insulated the inhabitants from the heat, noise and dust of the street. In the Arab tradition, it also allowed domesticity to remain private.

In one day we visited over twenty patios. In the morning we took part in an open patios scheme where a single ticket admitted us to the houses of eight people, and, accidentally, one man who wasn't part of the scheme but said we could take a look anyway. 

Each patio would contain a well and a large trough with washboard for doing the laundry. And every inch of wall was filled with pots of geraniums, clivia, herbs and ferns.

In the afternoon we promenaded the twelve patios of the Palacio Viana.  Geometric and ornate, these were parterres centred on fountains and framed by topiary.

Both kinds of patio filled us with admiration, each in their own way.

But then Tamara sent a pic of our own patio at home, heavy rain pinging off pots of herbs which had barely started to grow yet.

And even despite the contrast, it made me feel a little homesick.  Which is probably a good thing.