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| xdriller | profile | all galleries >> Galleries >> Spain Journal | tree view | thumbnails | slideshow |
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The flight was delightful even if it was on US Airways. I swear they use old Boeing 757s and 767s that no other airlines want any longer. What happens to old planes? They go to US Air! In any case, two events took this plane ride over the top. First, although we had window/aisle seats, there was no one on the interior three seats across the aisle. I quickly left Ann and moved across the aisle to hold dominion over those three seats. I was able to lay flat making a bed – a cramped 4 foot bed but a bed, when sleep time came. But no, my record is intact. I have never slept one minute on an airplane.
Second, much to Ann’s amazement, I had ordered a kosher meal for myself when I purchased the airline tickets online. Mostly it was done as a lark since my brother-in-law, Allan, had suggested I try this to get better airplane meals. Well, SCORE, Allan. My meal was delicious. I was stuffed after eating the perfect chicken Florentine with many delightful side dishes. The tray came wrapped in imprinted film with a note from KoshAir Cuisine inside saying the meal was made under “…strict constant supervision of the KashRuth Department of the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America” and “… dairy meals are not Cholov Yisroel” and the meat was “…Giatt Kosher”. Wow!
When the meal came, it came on two trays. Since I had three tray tables to deploy I had no lack of space for this meal. I soon realized, though, that since this was a strict kosher meal, meat cannot be mixed or on the same plate as dairy. After coming to grips with this I was terrified so as not to mix together these trays. Being six miles up in the air over the cold north Atlantic, I felt it was not wise to irritate any God: Jewish, Christian, Catholic or Muslim – even if they are the identical God. I guess I did not screw up the meal. We made it to Barcelona.
As for the jet lag, we did nothing as it turned out to help with that problem - mostly because we ended up doing nothing beneficial, i.e. un-hydrated.
We arrived earlier than projected at the Barcelona airport. We were through customs, had our luggage, used the airport shuttle to the center of town, hailed a taxi and were at the hotel by 9:30 am. Although the check-in was after 2:00pm, they had a room available for us. We got a room on the 11th floor overlooking the city with full floor to ceiling windows across the entire room. It is perfect (and relatively cheap).
Because of the excitement of finally arriving, we showered, changed clothes, brushed teeth and were on the metro to catch the tacky on-off Touristic Bus. This works well for ”jet lag day” since little effort is required to ride a bus. Unfortunately, we could only make it until about 4:00 before we hit the wall. I guess it is hard riding a bus. The fatigue was so bad we took a taxi back to the hotel, went across the street to a market to get bread, cheese and wine for dinner in the room. It is 7:30pm here, we have been up for 27 ½ hours and I am now so tired I can hardly mke t to rite mor werd Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Then back on the metro to Barri Gotic, the Gothic area of the old town. Listening to the speaker on the metro inform of the next stops, I realized that in Spanish (and Catalan, the language of Catalunya – the region of Barcelona) every vowel in a word is used. In English we tend to throw out vowels in a word. We even use diphthongs regularly – no, it is not a thong for taking a dip in the ocean. Don’t you remember seventh grade English? Every vowel here is pronounced separately. “Tetuan” (a metro station) is pronounced: tay- two-wan. I suppose we would say tet-twan, slurring the “au” into a single sound – a diphthong. If you took first year Spanish, you know this. I took German and Latin. Latin has been a big help on our trips to Europe. My Latin teacher in high school told us that Latin pronunciation is unimportant unless you are Catholic since the only people you will likely talk to are very dead. I digress.
Next was the Picasso Museum. Imagine a Gaudi designed building and you can visualize Picasso’s painting style! The museum was interesting in that the paintings were in chronological order, taking us though each period in his life with the different styles. His early work is enjoyable but as he progressed into the early 1900s something clicked in his vision of art that certainly has not clicked in my brain as yet – my same feeling as with Gaudi. That these two shared a time in history in the same location is not surprising.
For lunch I had a Spanish pizza (well, a pizza made in Spain, more correctly). I have had Italian pizzas with the thin almost cracker-like dough in previous years. This was not an Italian pizza. This so far eclipsed those as to be in a different league – and I really liked the pizza in Italy. I ordered this little gem without anchovies even though the menu showed that they came with the one I wanted. I am questionable with fish. Even Chicken of the Sea tuna packed in water is questionable for me. Anchovies make me gag even saying the word. Even thought I asked for no anchovy, of course it came with four little fillets of salty, fishy cat food. Now this restaurant is in a tourist area of Barcelona. I will not return to that restaurant but only because I will leave soon. I got a gratis second glass of wine due to the error. That was true act of class by that waiter.
My first impression of Spain is completely different from what I had thought. Catalan people here are friendly but also infinitely polite. They will not cross a street on red, folks will patiently wait out of the way as others get off the metro or elevators, cars will get out of the way for emergency vehicles, and a scooter will honk at someone not in a crosswalk crossing the street (OK, that was personal, you scooter idiot – I am an American! I jaywalk.)
We are back in the hotel relaxing after another 80F day with humidity. My Northwest body, which is obviously no longer a Bakersfield body, is not accustomed to this torturous heat and oppressive humidity! Ok that was an exaggeration. Tomorrow we pick up our car four blocks from our hotel and head north for the day. But now I am popping the cork on a nice bottle of Catalunya wine - $3.75. Salud.
Ann and I spend hours and days prior to our trips reading books and pressing our noses against computer laptop screens to plan our days away from home. Together we decide what country and cities to see. I work out the nuts and bolts of getting from one place to another, the hotels and anything itinerary related. Ann works on what we do when we are there, i.e. what to see and logistics of getting the most out of sights and events. It works to perfection. Well, not so much today.
[One nice event each morning in Barcelona is the coffee. A simple café con leche (coffee and milk) is a work of art, making a latte or cappuccino seem like sloshing coffee in a cup. What a delightful and beautiful way to deliver my drug of choice for the morning wakeup]
This day started off simply enough walking the five blocks to the car rental office in Poblenou, the district we were staying in. No, there was not a problem getting the car since it was there waiting for us. We were the only people there. Oddly, the car pick up was at a Citroen dealership. Needless to say that was a deserted place due to the economy! First off he wanted my driver’s license AND passport. We had both neglected to bring them with us. So back to the hotel I went, up to the eleventh floor and back down. I went up in the elevator with a man rubbing his eyes, blowing his nose and coughing. When he got off I got off too and took another elevator to my floor - leaving the other elevator teeming with Swine Flu virus, I am sure. Then I walked the five blocks back again. So much for us getting out of town before the morning traffic.
Getting out of town to the north was supposed to be a piece of cake. Never say that when on vacation. It just invites disaster. We did not seem to be able to leave Barcelona. With the one way streets and no left turn intersections we never could get where we wanted. Wishing to get out of town by 8:00 we finally escaped at 10:00. This all would seem reasonable except we had GPS. Apparently this GPS was not a fully capable GPS. Just like smart and dumb children there are smart and dumb GPS units. We got a GPS that rode the short bus to school. I will not say that this is a Microsoft product that Ann received for testing software on the MS campus – Sorry, Johnny B!
We headed north of town to Girona, slightly inland from the Mediterranean. Parking was ridiculous. The first free lot we found had no places after quite a search. We gave up and went into a subterranean parking garage that charged 3 euro cents a minute!!! Actually, that is only $2.70 an hour. I only wish Seattle charged so little. Lunch was al fresco (or whatever al fresco translates to in Catalan) in the old part of Girona. Our big meal of the day was three courses for 10 euro ($15) per person. It was quite good and the weather was perfect. The half liter of house wine washed it down delightfully. We walked the 90 steps up to the cathedral only to find there was a fee ($7.50 pp) for entering and immediately walked down the 90 steps.
Tossa de Mar was next (a sleazy seaside town which is considered the least sleazy of the tiny Spanish seaside towns). I was not impressed. 15 miles of switchbacks along the cliffs of the Mediterranean coast to get there at 25-30mph made for a longer trip than imagined. The weather was hazy, low clouds and generally not sparkling as we had anticipated.
In both of the cities today we drove to the center of town. Several years ago in Italy we drove to the center of the town we stayed in for a month and were stopped by an angry policeman ready to send us to prison for being in the “centro storico”, old town, where no cars were allowed. In these cities today, one with Ann driving and one with me, we drove into the center, streets getting narrower and narrower until the tiny car could barely get through between the buildings, people walking literally against our car. At some point we felt we would have to back up to get out, a daunting thought indeed. Both times we escaped having seen the old town by car.
Arriving back at the hotel with our newly rented car we needed to park it. Parking is absolutely impossible in Barcelona and parking on the street more impossible. The hotel has parking available across the street. Simple enough, right? Oh, how wrong you can be. To get to the parking garage (I could see it from the lobby) it was so complicated that the young gentleman behind the hotel counter came with us in the car to get us to the garage. I would have been embarrassed except I had read online this was difficult. In addition I truthfully think I would have not been able to do it myself without very detailed directions.
Dinner was cheese and a baguette in our room with wine, of course. To bed went hoping for a better day tomorrow.
Second, we drove to Zaragoza, a town we were merely using as a stopoff beween Barcelona and Madrid. The 300 km went by quickly. We could not miss the similarity between this area and the Central Valley of California. It was not a view to fly halfway around the world to see but we knew Spain was not Switzerland or Austria.
Our hotel is out of town near the airport since we had no reason to stay in town. This is a brand new hotel with FREE parking for the night. Overnight parking fees are a killer and when added to the price of the room no hotel seems to be a bargain. I think there are about seven rooms booked tonight. This is not where the cool people stay. Construction and commercial building pads abound. I figure this is a new airport and new hotel so nobody is staying here yet. Possibly this is the reason for the $71 rate at a beautiful ultra modernly furnished hotel. It is so impressive Ann took a picture of the sink, basins, toilet and bidet. That is proof of nice furnishings.
We drove into town and parked in the parking garage under the huge main plaza with the Basilica above us. We took the elevator up and emerged in the square. How cool is that? Entering the gigantic Basilica certainly impressed us. I was in shorts and sandals and felt a little underdressed but for some reason felt dressed fine at the Monastery earlier in the day. The town was a delight – even with that thunderous downpour which suddenly occurred while we were walking in the middle of a bridge over the Ebro River. By the time we found cover we were soaked.
Temperatures in the 70s made this fun and not a disaster. It was time to eat, the sun was down and people came from everywhere to stroll on the plaza, walk streets and have tapas and drinks. We became part of this scene even though Ann told me this morning that I look very much like an American, wearing shorts, sandals and a red golf shirt. Well, I am an American.
Time for a rant: the Microsoft GPS and map that I use with my laptop for directions was a bit of a problem. This is for John Brennan: Tell Steve that as president of Microsoft he needs to change the off ramp from Zaragoza to Madrid to read “Take exit 4a” and NOT “Take exit 4b” off the A2 onto the M30 to our hotel. Since this was the Friday of a three day Spanish national holiday, through Monday, celebrating Spanish heritage (feria de hispanidad), the freeways were packed at 2:00 pm. Even the slightest error in directions (LIKE GOING THE OPPOSITE WAY ON THE FREEWAY) resulted in terrible pain and suffering for the poor driver – Ann – and not to mention an added hour to the already long trip. My golf GPS locates my position within the width of a yardstick locking onto as many as 5 satellites. This unit locks onto one “satellite” dangling beneath a hot air balloon 150 feet in the air somewhere over northwestern Bulgaria. Heck, John, complain to Bill, too. You too, Larry! Actually, I hear no GPS works that well in the tiny streets of European town centers. Mine doesn’t work well on Spanish “interstate” highways.
Another micro rant. Gmail sucks. After writing and formatting the last emails, I found out that the formatting is lost when transferred from Word to Gmail. I dislike Gmail anyway and only use it for travelling and then only as a last resort.
Ah Madrid. The Hotel is another winner albeit a tad expensive. It is a holiday weekend and that has a lot to do with it. We are a short walk to the city center and adjacent to the museum district. After checking in we headed out to explore the Plaza Mayor area.
Our main meal, lunch, was at the very fashionable hour of 3:30 and consisted, in part, with a dish of potatoes in hot sauce. This dish is tiny white potatoes roasted, cut and drizzled freely with a hot sauce like Tabasco: Fiery, hot and delicious. We screwed up and ordered a bottle of wine rather than a half liter carafe for the two of us. Ann asked for a Rioja rather than rojo. Rioja is arguably the best area for Spanish wine. We got a bottle of some wonderfully fruity, complex and balanced 100% tempranillo wine. It was well worth the $30 cost but what we wanted was a half carafe for about $5. Half-lit from the bottle of wine we attacked Madrid for what was left of the day. It was just a walking around, getting acquainted stroll (stagger?).
Watching CNN: Obama won the Noble peace prize? Give me a break. Let’s have some history behind him rather than mere optimistic thinking. He has done nothing substantive yet. There is much questioning of the sense of that decision here in Europe. I am not against him and did vote for him but really…
Off we headed to the Royal Palace and Cathedral. The Metro is across the street from the hotel. We walk half a block and cross at McDonalds golden arches. Ah just like home. Three stops and a transfer then one stop and we were there but we knew not where. This was our stop but we could see neither the Palace nor Cathedral. The Spaniards who we ask for directions on the street are all so polite, kind and patient with us. We got to the Palacio Real but unfortunately the line to get in was obscene. Due to the holiday weekend the Palace will be closed after 2:00 today until Tuesday morning. EVERYONE in Madrid for the weekend had to see the Palace this Saturday morning or not at all. We fit that category. Oh well, that one was not in the travel books! Over 45 minutes later and having become great friends with the three women from Northern Ireland who were behind us, we entered.
Ann being Ann found out the senior discount was for 65+ and Europeans only. Sweet talking the young man taking our money, she got us in for the discounted $15 rather than full $24. I am sure few women lie about their age to be older (after 21 years, of course) and to be considered a European! My dear bride did that unabashedly.
The Palacio Real was a palace like many of Europe and having no great distinctive features to make it memorable. The Cathedral, on the other hand, was quite interesting. Begun in 1880 it took over 100 years to complete. This is a neo-classical church with a modern look in a classic medieval frame. Unique.
Lunch was at Casa Botin just off the Plaza Major. This is the restaurant where Ernest Hemingway finished the manuscript for The Sun Also Rises. It is very expensive but when does one get a chance to dine with the ghost of Ernest Hemingway? Well not us. I lied. We ate across the lane at a more reasonably priced restaurant sitting at the tables outside enjoying the perfect temperatures and people watching. But I bet Ernie’s ghost walked past us on the way to the Case Botin. That is good enough for me.
Traveling with Ann is interesting to say the least. Her idea of a grand hour or so is to go the Corte Ingles department store. In the basement was the huge supermarket. Ann went in under the guise of looking for smoked paprika (Thanks for that Marian). She never found any but perused all manner of food we do not have at Safeway. I spent the time in the upscale gourmet wine and food shop looking at rather expensive wine. Each bottle had one of those white plastic things that prevent stealing – like on leather coats and such. A bottle of 2004 Chateau Petrus from the Pomerol in the Bordeaux area could be had for a mere 2500 euro. I passed and bought a 3 euro Rioja in the poor folk’s grocery store figuratively pocketing the 2497 euro I did not spend on wine. Wow, this vacation is almost free!
Now, after our mini-siesta, we are headed across the street to get some culture and larnin’ at the Reina Sofia Museum – which is free this evening. In the museum I am excited to be able to view Picasso’s Guernica. That is the painting showing the horror of the Nazi bombing (with Franco’s blessing) of the Basque village of Guernica, leveling it and killing untold thousands during the Spanish Civil War. It is a startling piece of art when viewed in a book. I can only imagine it in person…
…Well, that was even better than I had anticipated. There it was in person 40’ or so wide 10’ high. In addition were all of his preparatory drawings of detail and sketches of the scene to be. What a disturbing memorial to the horror of war rained down upon innocent civilians.
Again I awoke to the young Dracula’s ending their night of bacchanalian excess (oh gosh I sound old) and heading back into their coffins but this time I went back to sleep and slept until 10:00 am. Off we went to Starbucks. Oh yes, Starbucks. One can only stand so much frou-frou coffee with milk in it before it can no longer be taken. Finding this Starbucks less than a block for our hotel last evening prompted Ann to ask why I had not told her it was there. Never having been in this city or area before, my only answer was, “Sorry Ann”, which calmed her immeasurably. I HAVE learned something in 39 years of marriage. A grande black drip made me happy in a very caffeinated way.
Being Sunday morning we went to the Prado Museum, the jewel of Madrid by walking up the Passo del Prado, strolling along the tree-lined, wide avenue to get there. It is free on Sunday as Ann had researched. We waited in another horrendous line but fortunately it moved much faster than yesterday at the Royal Palace. When we arrived at the ticket window they wanted $9 each for us to enter. It is free after five o’clock in the afternoon. Rats.
When I was in Copenhagen for a semester at college in 1968, I took the course “European Art and Architecture of the Renaissance”. I enjoyed the class (which included field trips to the Louvre and the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam) but now realize how thankful I am that I took it. Looking at Raphael, Fra Angelico, Titian, Velazquez, Tintoretto, Bosch and Ruebens, stirred a latent interest in renaissance art. By far the most interesting was El Greco, certainly my favorite artist of the time. Two hours there allowed us to selectively see everything we wished. It was a wonderful experience. The Goya paintings were a new experience for me and quite interesting since some related to the Spanish War of Independence.
Culture out of the way we headed for some fun in the sun at the Plaza Santa Ana for tapas and beer. The entire plaza was a mass of tables and chairs - unfortunately all previously filled with people showing no interest in leaving in the near future. BUT, we found a table, in the shade to boot. This guy at the adjacent table said it was occupied. Yea right - it was empty, wasn’t it? I was angry. The table next to it was empty too but in the blazing sun. We took it anyway then soon were able to move to a table in the shade next to “that man”. To make a long story short we became best of friends with the six of them, three men and three women – from Norway. “That man” and Ann , along with the rest of us, talked for two hours through drinking and tapas. I don’t even think Ann realized she had two large beers. Exchanging cards with these real estate agents from south of Oslo, I think Ann worked out an exchange deal with them for next year. I will wait and see about that! That was a classic Sunday afternoon in Madrid. We were Madrilenos for a day.
After a short rest we headed out again to the metro. A greater mass of humanity I have rarely seen. People were everywhere; cars were in total gridlock on the gigantic roundabout Carlos V. What is going on? This is the big celebration of Spanish heritage parade with blasting music and a parade of each Spanish country in the world. Up the Paseo del Prado the parade continued seemingly forever. Members of the parade were in their colorful national dress whirling in national dances. What a celebration into the night.
Today we left the big city of Madrid at 9: 15 and headed into the teeth of, well, no traffic at all. Due to the national holiday all was quiet on the Madrid front. Ann was able to sail out of town as fast or slow as she wished. The roads were hers for the morning. Ann is the designated driver within cities and I drive out of cities since I give better directions and she does not get as angry at other drivers. Years (and years) of trial and error allowed this to evolve.
About an hour north of Madrid is the town of Segovia. This is a city on a hill with a wall around it, a gigantic Roman aqueduct, a cathedral and an Alcazar. We did the obligatory touristy things then sat down at a table on the Plaza Mayor facing the cathedral and had lunch. Two beers, a small plate of paella to share, a potato tortilla (like a cold Spanish omelet) and bocadillo of Iberian ham and rubbed tomato (It’s a small sandwich thingy). All for $16 - The best deal yet in Spain. We had no idea how much anything was going to cost since there were no prices. You point at what you wish to have at the counter and the waitress brings it out to the table. At least that is how Spanish language challenged Americans do it! We paid the bill and got a non-itemized receipt. We still have no idea how much anything cost individually but the price was right.
Lounging in the plaza taking our main meal of the day, we enjoyed the sun and people. That made the next stop, Avila, questionable since we had to get to Toledo for the night. Toledo was still a couple of hours away and the afternoon was fading.
Out of Segovia we sped to Avila, a town completely surrounded by a medieval wall with 80 towers within the walls. Arriving, it was obvious that the walls were so perfectly restored as to have used Disneyland construction workers. It all looked too beautiful. We passed on entering the city and headed to Toledo.
Our hotel in Toledo is located in the center of town within the walls and difficult to get to with a car. Out came my “trusty” computer and GPS when we were 20 km from town. The computer had very little power. That was a problem – the directions were in the computer also. The GPS worked perfectly; we made it to the hotel easily and the computer died as we drove up to the hotel. I am now happy again with Microsoft.
After settling into the hotel we left for dinner. What a disaster that was. Our food at a questionable outdoor patio restaurant was flavorless. The wine was a day or so old and right out of the refrigerator - almost undrinkable but not so bad as to complain. It was same with the food – bland, unimaginative but not poor enough to complain - $45 mistake. It was the Monday night of a holiday weekend and not much else was open. Let’s hope Toledo impresses tomorrow – It didn’t today but then we have only been here a few hours
Today, nothing of a unique or humorous nature occurred. We went to the Cathedral, the Alcazar and the church of Santo Tome. At this church, Santo Tome, was another El Greco, the burial of Count Orgaz, one of his most important works, on the wall inside a room of the church. To see his work, we paid $7 total to walk into the one darkly lit room, look at the huge El Greco and walk out. We were not even allowed to see the church which is open only for mass. Stupid tourist. Stupid tourist.
The Cathedral of Toledo was one of the most amazing I have seen in England, France, Austria, Italy or Spain. The amount of labor, the precious materials: gold, silver, rubies, emeralds, etc, etc, was over the top. The scale was beyond cathedral. Only Spain could create such a “busy” volume within that immense space. The church was liberally adorned with the gold and silver plundered from the Americas in the 1500’s Age of Exploration. Here I usually begin my rant about the reverse money pit that a catholic cathedral is. Why so much wealth “stored” within the walls? Could the value of the ornaments not be used better than to sit in cases to be looked at? Why do I pay $11 to enter a church filled with many multiples of millions of dollars of just “stuff” sitting around or decorating the walls? How much is too much? Ok so it was a rant.
Toledo is a delightful city on a high rise above a 270 degree curve of the rio Tajo. The city, within the medieval walls, is characterized by narrow, winding streets. The one full day is enough but well worth the time here. The hotel we stayed at was next to the El Greco Museum. I was so happy to book this place. You guessed it. The museum is closed and all of the El Greco work is on temporary exhibit in Mexico. Wonderful.
After the huge breakfast and quite substantial lunch we passed on dinner and even passed on wine.
An hour out of Toledo is Consuegra. On a high ridge 700 feet above the valley floor of La Mancha stands a derelict castle (being restored) and 10 white, stucco and wood windmills. Think Don Quixote tilting at these huge white structures while his man Sancho Panza looks on – all so 17 th century. Below is a wide flat land – La Mancha. We drove up to the windmills and felt the wind that made them so valuable at the time. I feel like I am really in Southern Spain now. So, on to the Provence of Andalucía .
Córdoba, from all the blogs, journals and reviews I had read before the trip, is singularly the most impossible city to get into with a car, GPS or not. Oh you internet travel blog rookies. I can do this blindfolded. It cannot be that difficult.
This town makes other cities in Europe seem like getting into Yakima by comparison. Tiny streets, construction, one way streets, no street straight for more than a block, no street signs and, as we found, loops ten or so blocks long making us return to the same place with no turns out of it possible. In addition a new torment in the city was created by the Córdoban elders (undoubtedly devised by direct lineal descendants of the Spanish Inquisition torturers). It is best described as a roundabout with streets also going straight through the center. Signal lights are everywhere at different angles making spotting them nearly impossible. Try to imagine making a left turn by going right and you are getting the idea. I will not even begin to describe the many ways one can screw up this kind of intersection. Let it be said that, I think, we tried every combination of screw up possible with excellent poor results each time.
Exactly one hour after being within two kilometers (less than one mile) of our hotel, we made it to within two blocks (wrong way on a one way street). That really was 63 minutes, not a ‘BobExaggeration’. We could see our hotel. Ann Jumped out to get directions from the hotel staff. Now to make matters worse, our hotel is adjacent to the gigantic Mezquita, the great mosque of Cordoba dating from the 700s and sits two blocks long by two blocks directly in front our room in the hotel. So our hotel is really in the center of the central historical center, ground zero, as it were. Our little balcony allows us to almost touch it. Again, another amazing hotel! I am on a roll. And it is reasonable, clean and roomy – the Hotel Maimonides.
After getting the car into the subterranean garage space with a shoehorn and 17 “Y” turns, we ran out to get some food – It was now 3:00 and almost every restaurant was closing for the post siesta time. Found a nice one and had a truly delicious lunch of several small plates and beer. Ok I had two beers. The second, the waiter failed to include on the bill. I mentioned it to him; he shrugged and said that is ok. He got a two euro tip for the ”free” two euro beer he forgot. Unbelievably this is a well respected restaurant in the travel guides as we found out later – not our usual style. We had Córdoban gazpacho, fried cuttlefish and mushrooms marinated in a sherry type wine.
The town is hot and humid but after the sun sets the temps are perfect. Travelling along the tiny winding streets is a delight if not in a car. Streets too narrow for cars are easily maneuvered with only scooters, bicycles and strollers as obstacles. Narrow streets wide enough for one car are more problematic in avoiding side mirrors ready to take off an arm but more interesting to traverse.
Everyone is out for the evening stroll, the paseo, tonight. The sound of a viola is heard under our window as she sits on the stone block steps of the Mesquita. It is all just perfect here. In addition, after Ann asked the guard at the Mezquita if she could get a senior citizen discount tomorrow. He showed her that it is free tomorrow before the tour busses arrive at 10:00. Bonus – a $24 bonus!
Tonight the bottle of wine we are having in the room is a Cencibel grape and Crianza (Crianza is the amount of time the wine is aged). Yep, Crianza is one year in oak and the cheapest – this bottle was $6. Then comes reserva and then gran reserva (both much too exotic for my wallet but not my taste). Some of those reserva bottles even cost double digits in price. The horror! The Cencibel grape is what we call tempranillo. Enough Spanish oenology for one night.
I like Cordoba.
Into the Mezquita we went. It was free as promised. It seemed like there was Ann and me and about ten other people in this gigantic building. Although the sign said no cameras the other handful of people were taking flash pictures (it was very dimly lit) even in front of the several guards present. Apparently it was not their job to hassle the tourists. That station was occupied by an English lady tourist who took it upon herself to tell me that the guard was watching me and we cannot take pictures here. I cannot tell you what little difference that made to me!
I was, to use the sixties term, “blown away” by the Mezquita. A Muslim mosque built in the 700s over a Visigoth Christian church of the 400s which in turn was converted to a Christian place of worship with a cathedral built within the walls after the expulsion of the Moors in 1492. What a history this building has seen in the past 1600 years - just awesome and awe inspiring.
After about 90 minutes wandering the Mezquita, we were off to the Alcazar, a Muslim palace/ fortress also along the river. Why did we visit? Well, there were gardens and I am married to Ann. The gardens were beautiful in an Arab world way – fountains and much moving water. A real Garden of Eden. Boring of that activity, I suggested we move on and my spouse reluctantly agreed.
Lunch was fantastic. We had scouted this place earlier in the day in a plaza somewhere in the old town area and Ann had talked to the waiter, liking him immediately. So we returned at lunchtime. Our lunch this day consisted of eight tapas (tiny plates of food) and the obligatory cervezas at a table on the plaza. The weather was again absolutely perfect – 75F and clear blue skies. What made the meal memorable was the lack of funds in our pockets. Putting together all the dinero we had, the best we could do was 23 euro – about four short. Asked about Visa, the nice waiter merely said, “No”. I have to admit that was very unusual. But then again he told one table he had no coffee and then served coffee to another table. This was not a man to question.
I still had beer to finish so Ann went off pan handling or looking for a cash machine whichever came first. She did return although she said she might not. Finally paying the bill we headed home for siesta time after a lunch of almost two hours. We are really getting into this Andalucían schedule of life.
After touring the Jewish area behind the Mezquita, we rested then went out after the sun set for tapas hopping. Visiting several bars and tavernas we had a drink and two tapas at each place. That was a nice way to end the day.
Now I REALLY like Cordoba.
Ann drove all the way from Cordoba to Granada, about 2+ hours. Needing gas we stopped at a station in a tiny wide spot in on the road in the rolling hills of Andalucía. We need diesel and have always gotten the product called “diesel” but this station did not have “diesel”. The non-English speaking attendant assured us that “Gasiolio A” worked. Fortunately the car was still running properly when we arrived in Granada. It was, in fact, diesel that we got.
Our hotel is a six story ultra modern new hotel three minutes down the hill from the Alhambra. This is a great hotel for $71 a night and we are parking for free on the street. That means a splurge for dinner at the hotel tonight.
After a quick lunch at the hotel we headed to the Alhambra, a fortified palace on the hill above Granada. The Alhambra was the center of the caliphate during the last days before the completion of the Spanish reconquista – throwing the Moors out (late 1400s). It is the most visited site in the Spain. It cost us $20 each getting a ticket online yesterday for the time of 4:00. We had to enter the Nastrid Palace in the Alhambra between 4:00 and 4:30 or it is ”Sorry Charlie”. We were there for five hours running up a $13 parking fee. It is a magnificent site that needed be seen sometime before we retired from traveling.
I think we hit the wall about 5:00 at the Alhambra. I was spent. Tonight, fortunately, we came back to our hotel and relaxed like we seldom do. For us that means taking a nap! Which we did waiting for the magic hour of 8:00 when the doors open for dinner. Then bed. Glorious bed.
We got our second wind and headed for dinner downstairs at 8:30. The dining room filled up as we ate. As we ate Ian and Elspeth came in with another couple. I will go back in time to make sense of these people. At the Alhambra we stumbled upon this couple from St Andrews in Scotland. Ian laughed at my pronunciation of “Andalucía” in one of the palaces there. What the heck he is a Scot. What does he know about pronunciation in English much less Spanish? That started a conversation with this quite sarcastic couple. What a hoot they were. So when we finished our dinner we went over to their table and had another laugh with them. Table hopping in Granada. Quite the jet set coupe we are, if I do say so. The dinner was wonderful with a bottle of Tempranillo which was had for a mere $14. Think about that, a bottle of wine at a fine restaurant for $14. How crazy is that. And it was superb. Finishing off that bottle finished us off for the day.
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