We could spot Frigiliana from afar; the village was perched on the side of a mountain and looked very white against the dark grey and green backdrop. We enjoyed lunch there at noon (surprisingly) and strolled through the streets briefly. Though most everything was closed, there were people out, mostly tourists bemoaning every step up the steep hill. The locals only started to emerge from their shelters once we were heading down to the car. I heard them before I could see them, especially the ladies’ clustered giggles as they walked past the breathless tourists.