Does Ronda really attract solitary men?

This was my third visit to Ronda.
But this time, we stayed overnight.

Hemingway himself had stayed somewhere nearby once, and that made me wonder. Why would he travel so far to come here? Why Ronda, and not Granada or Córdoba? Why not Arles, like Van Gogh?

And then I realized that it wasn’t about geography. It was about temperament.

Hemingway was not a Van Gogh!
Yes, both were artists, but very different ones.

Van Gogh took in the world with all its colors and feelings. His paintings were his way of breathing out his heart. Arles with its golden light, its sunflowers, its sensitive soul was a perfect place for him. He wanted to be held by the landscape.

Hemingway was the opposite. He didn’t want to be held. He wanted to confront life. To stand face to face with the world. To see its cruelty and its strength. Spain gave him that. Not soft fields, but sharp edges. Not the beauty of survival, but the beauty of dying well.

Arles is yellow and dreamy.
Ronda is stone and cliffs.
Arles lets you dream.
Ronda dares you to jump.

So maybe it’s simple:
Van Gogh needed tenderness.
Hemingway needed a fight.

Does Ronda really attract solitary men?

Hemingway’s Ronda

Hemingway came here in the late 1920s. He found history, bullfighting, wine, love, silence ... and himself. He wrote about Ronda in Death in the Afternoon, his book on bullfighting. He admired the old bullring here, one of the oldest in Spain. He said:

“There is one town that would be better than anything. It is Ronda... and you should see it.”

And when you stand on the cliffs and look into the gorge, you understand what he meant.

My Evening in Ronda

We had arrived after a long day - driving through the hills from Zahara de la Sierra, climbing to Puerto de las Palomas at 1,308 meters. The air there was thin, sharp, and clean. By the time we checked in, we were tired in the best way.

In the evening, we joined a wine tasting. A few couples sat around us, ready for conversation. But what caught my eye were two men, each sitting alone.

They weren’t lonely, not withdrawn. They were simply… at ease. One was from Porto, the other from London. Each with a glass of wine, observing the room with quiet curiosity.

And then I noticed others too: a man at the hotel, one in the restaurant, another in the street.

And the thought came: why does Ronda attract men who travel alone?

Vertical Drama

I found the answer in the land itself. Ronda is full of what I call vertical drama.

Ronda is carved from cliffs. You turn a narrow street and suddenly the ground disappears. A gorge, 120 meters deep, opens beneath you.

It doesn’t rush you forward. It drops you down.
Into memory. Into silence. Into the thought of death.

I call it vertical drama. It is about standing still, and feeling the weight of life.

Maybe that’s why men come here alone. Because Ronda doesn’t distract. It doesn’t tell you what to do. It just lets you sit with yourself.

Some places make you talk.
Ronda makes you listen.

Why Men Travel Alone

This city seems to mirror the inner landscape of certain men - those who aren’t trying to impress, who aren’t running away, but who are wandering toward something undefined.

Not tourists, but seekers.
Men carrying grief without shape.
A decision not yet made.
A life at a turning point.

For many men, raised to hide their feelings, traveling alone is a way to feel without explaining. Ronda gives permission for that. Its gorge splits the city in two - just as many lives are split between what has been lived and what is still longed for.

Some cross the bridge.
Some stay at the edge.
Some just sit, notebooks unopened, wine untouched, letting time go by.

My Reflection

Of course, there’s no proof that Ronda attracts solitary men. Its long history, from Neolithic times to Moors and Romans, draws all kinds of visitors. Its bullring, its Puente Nuevo, its streets can be loved by anyone.

But still… I can’t forget what I saw.

Perhaps it’s the silence. Perhaps it’s the vertical drama. Perhaps it’s the way Ronda refuses to explain itself. But I believe the city speaks to those who need to listen inwardly. That evening, watching those men, I felt I understood something not only about Hemingway, but about myself too.

Because Ronda is not only a place you visit.
It’s a place that visits you.