Old is always a good idea
There is something about Vejer that grabs you from the inside. That makes you know, from the very first moment you set foot in its streets, that you will return. Sooner or later, you will come back.
Because Vejer gives off that aura of lived places. Inhabited in time by stories that happened a long time ago in its alleys, the same ones that the Arabs already took care of shaping as only they knew how to do it: from almost impossible cobblestones, narrow slopes and narrower alleys.
Of ups and downs whose secluded corners loudly claim their past, their ties with what lies beyond the Strait, so as not to be forgotten.
There is something in Vejer that catches, yes, and you won't know what it is.
There is something about Vejer that grabs you inside
An everything and a nothing that more than understanding each other, they feel. Especially in those moments when the sea breeze flies high and reaches its eternal viewpoints, slips through its convoluted labyrinths of houses and patios and flowers and corners, enters through that half-open window at siesta time and makes your skin crawl, toasted by the morning sun.
It's those moments that make you understand that summer is to return to Vejer. To make it loop. That what is just and necessary is to return to to feel again that everything is magic in this little white town which does not need a beach because it already has everything you could want.
And, with everything and with that, he has it: just 14 kilometers away are the infinite sands of El Palmar.
If you have to find the excuse to return to Vejer, they come to mind the joyous walks in which you get lost on purpose through its old town until you end up in the Corredera.
For that jumble of streets that you conscientiously avoid memorizing so that, when you return the next time, confusion gives you once again the experience of discovering them.
El Palmar
You come back to Vejer for listen to that Cadiz touch that makes everything so pure. To reconnect with moments and people, with situations and experiences already lived that you want to continue living forever.
And the fact is that Vejer is always there, ready to open his arms to you. To welcome you as if it were the last time. It reserves for you that space next to a barrel from La Casa del Vino that you have been dreaming about for, you don't even know since when, where you sip that first drink while you contemplate the comings and goings of the most everyday scenes. The simplest—and happiest—of lives is this.
Vejer is in charge of guiding you, of making you dive into the essence of the south. He makes sure that you get drunk on the art that you breathe here more than anywhere else, also in the endless nights in which the moon shines high and flamenco resonates between drinks, laughter and longed-for hugs in any of its wineries.
Back to Vejer
It takes care of pampering you while you savor that almadraba tuna that you already smell even before entering what is its temple, a Viña y Mar where everything from Cadiz is venerated.
When you take the first bite the perfect slice of ham that serve like nowhere else, no matter how hard you look, where the Little bunny . When you travel to the origins in The Garden of the Caliph . When you close your eyes and die of pleasure in another cathedral of gastronomy: in castle.
Vejer pushes you to live it with intensity when the lift gives life to the curtains and closes the doors of the coast. “Play that divine game; of being wind that is his being” , as claimed in some tiles that poem by Jose Maria Peman.
He takes you to the shelters anchored next to the old arches to reveal the secrets of the vejeriegas and their cloaks, those intriguing clothes that claim their Castilian origin, but also the Muslim.
He drives you to his limits so that you choke with excitement at the sights of its roof terraces, where the antennas and hanging clothes match the beauty of the landscapes of La Janda.
He returns to Vejer, yes. Even though he tries to startle you awake with the screams of the seller who advertises a kilo of tomatoes for a euro and a half next to your window.
He turns to enjoy, and see how others enjoy, of those afternoons in the cool and between talks at the doors of their homes. Doors from which, when the morning comes, the day's bread hangs: here the traditions, traditions are.
Vejer makes you come back to feel the roots to the town as something yours. To wander through its hidden courtyards and tour its ancient walls, rediscover its old mills and reach its castle.
For you to photograph yourself, once again, with messy hair and salty skin next to those colored pots that so much and so many like.
It is that timeless beauty, the one that Vejer emanates, the one that grabs you inside. It is that feeling of fullness, that nothing can go wrong there, that makes you come back.
And you will, ** make no mistake about it. **
We will return to Vejer!