I’m not terribly fond of snapping photos of myself. I’m not precisely sure of the cause. I’m not photogenic for one thing.
For another, I’m usually compulsively taking pictures of the beautiful buildings or landscapes around me. I mean just look at my iPhone photo of Nerja below. I’m thankful there are no people in it.
But travel bloggers are apparently supposed to “prove” they’ve been in a place. There are endless streams of articles devoted to mastering the art of selfies.
Perhaps I should read one. I just usually devote my spare reading time articles about my next geographical cure.
And I don’t obsess overly much about social approval or my social media feed. I confess I am nonetheless prone to obsession. I just direct my obsessive tendencies elsewhere.
I don’t book trips for selfies and Instagram. I don’t envision having an “Instagram Butler” to help me conduct photo shoots.
Despite all this, on my solo trip to Spain in February, I finally resolved to attempt a few selfies for my blog posts. Mostly, this undertaking was an abject failure. It didn’t embolden me to try to become an expert.
For example, here’s an utterly awful selfie I took at the Alhambra. I was having a relatively good hair day on a gusty day, I suppose.
But, as you can see, not only is the photo quality poor, but I have lipstick on my teeth. Perhaps with some expertise at photoshop, I could eliminate the telltale lipstick.
But I haven’t mastered photoshop yet. I’m too busy writing blog content and trying to master the minutiae of Pinterest and other unpleasantries of blog promotion. And parenting, a time consuming and sometimes soul sucking affair. Photoshop seems to be in the distant future.
Anyway, one day I ventured forth from Granada on a day trip to Frigiliana and Nerja. It was February, but I still wanted to see and sniff the sea, which always has a calming and therapeutic effect on me.
And Nerja is lovely. Here are some more photos without people in them:
The heart of Nerja is its beautiful Balcón de Europa, a palm-lined promontory built on the foundations of an old fort.
The Balcony of Europe juts out like a natural pier and offers panoramic views of the cobalt blue sea and honey colored coast. The only downside is that it’s usually quite crowded. But not so much in February.
Legend holds that the balcony got its moniker from King Alfonso XII. He apparently stood upon the site and, stunned by its beauty, proclaimed: “This is the balcony of Europe.”
This is no doubt apocryphal, but makes for good storytelling. And far be it from me to ruin a good story with the truth.
For some strange reason, I was moved to take a selfie on the balcony. I hadn’t considered the gale force winds. Logic would dictate that I try another location.
But, despite being a lawyer, I’m not alway logical. I’m illogically obsessive. And I wanted the gorgeous Mediterranean in the background of my selfie. It somehow seemed very essential at the time.
And so I persevered. Here, you can see the product of my foolishness. Perhaps a hair tie might have helped. At least I passed on lipstick, perhaps subconsciously.
Or one with your hair at a vertical angle. I’m trying to figure out what my hair resembles. Medusa perhaps?
Or a snap with your hair smashed on your head like a lopsided pie or bird’s nest. Come to think of it, I was lucky no pigeons settled in there.
The one below wasn’t utterly dreadful. I have low standards, I guess.
If you ever feel bad about your selfie taking abilities, you can comfort yourself with the fact that I’m far worse. I win top prize for bad selfies.
There was this rather attractive bronze statute on the balcony. Fortunately, King Alfonso XII was mute and couldn’t comment on my runaway tresses.
Despite my photographic inadequacies, I had a lovely few hours in Nerja.
After meandering its quaint lanes and having some tasty seafood for lunch, I moved on to Frigiliana.
Frigiliana just might be the prettiest village in Spain. It’s a spotless, secluded, perfectly coifed cliff town dressed in blue and white with flowing orange and purple vines and potted blood red geraniums.
I was so entranced with the place that all notions of selfies slipped my mind. And that’s probably all for the good. Frigiliana doesn’t need me defouling its captivating landscapes.