Órgiva Guidebook – Rejected

Entering the Órgiva valley is to invite a smorgasbord of new and authentic experiences. Even as one crosses the river over the historically maintained Seven Eye Bridge, one’s senses suddenly become alive. The eyes feast upon the scattered buildings where old and new co-exist in a melody of architectural styles and where even the electric company can express their creativity, unhampered by the oppressive planning regulations which blight modern cities.

The relaxed and other-worldly feeling which permeates this town is beautifully reflected in the flow and drift of the local traffic. If you have ever mused over the seemingly random and over-zealous regulations which control traffic in the rest of Europe, you can breathe easily in Orgiva, where the only rule is to keep out of everybody else’s way. Here one can relax whilst driving. Throw an arm out of the window in joyful abandonment as you enjoy your post-lunch-time drive and you will be greeted by the friendly waves of the locals as you meander aimlessly through town.
Of course, the finest way to enjoy the special nature of Orgiva is on foot. Parking in the town is a joy, as apart from three reserved places outside the Police Station, one can park anywhere, absolutely anywhere. Just stop your car next to where you want to be and leave it there.
As one wanders through the narrow streets one can easily entertain the idea that nothing much has changed for centuries. The dogs which run free could well be the descendants of those who accompanied the first Iberian tribes. They mingle freely with the townsfolk, sharing scraps of food with the human population as they have done since time immemorial. The smells which regale one’s nose remind us of much simpler times and one cannot help but marvel at the durability of Roman sewerage systems.
Like many towns, Orgiva has shops. There is a clothes shop, a chemist, twelve bakeries and a chainsaw shop. The supermarket is a delight for those who struggle with the problems of choices which overwhelm the average Waitrose customer. This supermarket has chosen to eschew the tasteless notion of infinite choice by only stocking one item of each category. With the exception of chicken nuggets where one can choose from thirty-eight different varieties. The only area where the notion of choice is truly represented is to which meditating ascetic one wishes to donate one’s returned trolley euro at the end of your visit. Choose carefully and you may well be rewarded with a personal meditation or a Namaste.
If one needs a little help, then there are plenty of tradesmen eager to oblige. If one needs an expert to attempt repairs to one’s computer, car or roof, then there is always somebody’s cousin ready to have a go. Often the same person as the locals seems to have dispensed with the archaic and restrictive notion of just being an expert in one area. It is refreshing to encounter a culture where enthusiasm and optimism counts for more than boring qualifications.
Come and enjoy a break from reality, visit Orgiva.