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| xdriller | profile | all galleries >> Spain Journal | tree view | thumbnails | slideshow |
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Entering the cathedral one thing became quite obvious. Some architects are much better than others and it does not matter if the church was built in 1100 or in the 1500s like this one. Some are just better than others. I would not call it a disaster for us but $5 each was too much to pay to enter. I think that says it all. The cathedral is not kept clean and there was something not “lofty” in the scope of the space. I know I rant about excessive splendor and opulence in one cathedral then rant about lack of same in another. I guess I am just a complex individual – or one who likes to rant – you decide.
Leaving the cathedral, we went to an adjacent building which was the earlier Royal Chapel. It was commissioned by Queen Isabella, of Ferdinand and Isabella/Christopher Columbus fame, for their burial place. This was a magnificent, smaller structure which, I feel, outshines the cathedral. For this I was quite happy to shell out $5 each to see this.
Walking around the old town, we stopped for coffee, then walked a little more and stopped for lunch then walked around a little more and stopped for a beer for me and a sweet and coffee for Ann. We looked at our watch and it was almost 5:00 already. This would be the late in the day for Seattleites but more like the middle of the day for Spaniards. Dinner was still many, many hours away but lazing the day away on a fine sunny Saturday amid the weekend crowds of downtown seemed to be the thing to do - as most of the Granada folk were doing.
Back to the hotel on the bus we relaxed before dinner. At the bewitching hour of 8:00 we headed down to the dining room. In the dining room after ordering, in walked ol’ Ian and Elspeth. They are slightly older than us and quite erudite – great to talk with. Being Scots they can keep up their end of a conversation as can Ann. Yep, that leaves me.
They sat at the table next to us and we conversed over our respective dinners. When we finished our meals, I invited them to the bar upstairs for a wee dram of whisky, a single malt to be exact. Being a Scot it was, I believe, illegal for Ian to refuse a malt and he would be denied admittance back into Scotland upon his return. To save him this undesirable fate he accepted our invite, as did Elspeth who, I believe was “el jefe” – the boss.
In the bar upstairs there were only two single malts but both I had, amazingly, never tasted. I bought the first round; Ian bought the second. We talked, the four of us, for over two hours. At $9 a shot one would become destitute before inebriated. Ian even complained bitterly about the pour declaring it not to a fair measure. It was absolutely to no avail. We kicked over the table around midnight to the exchanging of email addresses and promises to stay in contact and visit. These poor folk do not know how blatant we are in this regard! Just ask Alistair and Judy Ross (and other friends we use for a free bed and breakfast).
To get to the apartment we had to drive on a narrow single lane path through the Gardens Murillo to the Plaza Santa Cruz. Perfect GPS I might add. There we parked our car in a tiny, tiny plaza with a barely enough room for a single car to pass around the even smaller plaza in the center. So parking involved just squeezing the car into a corner of the plaza so maybe other cars could pass. Fortunately, since this was a dead end plaza not many cars entered. This is the only way to “approach” the Apartments by car.
From there it was all walking as the “roads” were too narrow to allow cars. Up one lane we went, then right; down another, then left. Our apartment is on the “road” Reinoso which has the nickname of the kissing street. This is because our narrow 12” wide balcony and the one directly across the “road” are close enough to lean over and kiss your lover. I swear this is NOT an exaggeration! Amazing. Three people cannot walk abreast on the “road” Reinoso below.
Then it got difficult. We had emailed ahead to reserve a parking spot through the Hotel Murillo. The parking is in a subterranean public garage with a private floor for the hotels in the area. Out of the Plaza Santa Cruz we could make a right turn only. The garage was to the left a short distance – measured in yards. So we had to go down a half mile to a roundabout and swing back along the same street in the opposite direction. Then we went past the garage since we could not make a left turn. So we continued past the garage beyond a split in the road to make a left turn and another left back to the same road now going the original direction. Traveling at about 10 mph with our hazard blinkers on so as not to miss this garage entrance and be forced to start this little trip all over again, we found it, parked and walked back to the hotel.
Lunch was now on tap as we had eaten very little for breakfast in Granada. It was after 2:00. We sat down at a small outdoor taverna near the apartment and ordered beer, jamon croquettes (ham), a small bowl of gazpacho, and a ham omelet. And all was finally going so well. Until: Since not having enough money for our lunch in Cordoba, Ann had humorously decided to be the keeper of ALL of the money. I was not allowed to have any for my not having the funds to pay lunch there! This is so delightful to relate: Ann, who had ALL of our cash, did not have enough to cover the lunch bill and Visa was again not accepted. SHE SCREWED UP. Did you hear that? Let me say that again. SHE SCREWED UP!
I was sitting there with a cute little smirk on my face, if I do say so myself until I realized, to be fair, this time I had to scrounge up a cash machine. In the oppressive heat and humidity of an afternoon in Sevilla, I searched high and low for money. Finally dripping in sweat and almost ready to faint, I found a Bancomat and staggered back reeling right and left like a lit up wino. Ok it wasn’t really difficult in the beautiful 75F day and I did get directions first.
In the evening, we strolled the wee streets of the old Jewish Quarter where we are staying. The town was electric with people, noise and activity. Every tiny plaza around each corner of each tiny street was buzzing with the activity of waiters and groups of people sitting at outdoor tables enjoying wine, beer, tapas and ractiones (rations, or larger plates than tapas).
Each meal here is an adventure (not all adventures are necessarily great). Tapas with beer tonight included tiny plates of sliced chorizo, albondigas (meatballs, as every first day of Spanish class teacher will teach you) in a good but indescribable sauce, and stewed spinach with garbanzo beans with not a small amount of cumin. In addition, the basket of bread the waiter plops down and charges you for even if you don't eat any. All this again sitting at an outdoor cafe in the warm, dark Sevilla night.
Ann is truly one of the most amazing people I have ever met. Travelling with her is always enlightening. Her knowledge bandwidth is wide. She has a grasp of history, social issues, ethnics issues, politics and current events that never fails to amaze me. (To be fair, not so much in economics, though!) Ann absorbs information and creates knowledge. Scratch the surface of Ann and what you get is a rational mind that can converse in abstracts and facts with a depth of understanding that I only wish I could achieve. Her personal ethos seems to be if you cannot argue both sides of an argument effectively you have not researched the subject thoroughly enough to truly understand the black, white and many shades of gray. That certainly is not my personal creed, which is “my way or the highway”. Unfortunately, Ann is well aware of this tactic so I have not “won”’ an argument in over 15 years because of her, I hate to say, logic. I am proud that she has been my dear wife for over 39 years and counting.
To answer your next question: No, I have not been nipping at the cooking sherry. Sometimes, my feminine side shows through but fortunately now I am pumping up my testosterone again – to be a real man. But, to add the ying to the yang , as one would say in China, Ann is directionally challenged. She could not find her way out of a blind Alley if you pointed the way. Her first question would be, “Are you sure, Bob?”
On with the trip.
Today was a relaxing day. Somehow being in a one bedroom apartment for four days calms down even frantic Bob. I vacation at a more relaxed pace, which means Ann gets to vacation at a more relaxed pace, which certainly is to her liking. Everything does not have to be done and seen at once. The dear “little woman” even has time to shop of which she takes full advantage but buys little. What a chick.
In the morning, we leisurely walked to the Cathedral (and got kicked out) then enjoyed the Plaza Espana before lunch. After lunch and for the whole afternoon we enjoyed the Real Palacio built on top of the Muslim Alcazar. This was built by Spanish Christian kings beginning in 1100 after the vanquishing of the Moors. It is built in Mudejar style (Moorish style) by Muslim artisans – the best of this age. The palace included huge gardens which made somebody very happy.
If you are wondering about getting kicked out of the cathedral here is what happened. The cathedral did not open until 11:00. At 10:00 I walked in with Ann. There was a service going on but, what the heck, I am an American, right? I thought Ann was being really good and quiet but we were found and escorted out. I think that was the first time I have been literally kicked out of a church but I am not sure.
Lunch was tapas with cerveza. The tapas were: dates wrapped in bacon (really good), fried calamari, potatoes with hot sauce and a ham omelet (not so really as good). All came on tiny plates so that was a perfect meal size. Oh and tonight, I bought a $3.50 bottle of rose wine since it is popular here. I have now found the lower level of what should never be paid for a bottle of Spanish wine (of any color). We are drinking it, though, so as not to waste.
We parked at Arcos in front of a small café. Not sure if we could park there legally or if we needed to pay, Ann ask inside if parking was ok there. The owner came out looked around and said we could park there. Thanking her in the only way we could we went in and had coffee and toast. The toast came with a tomato type spread in olive oil and a touch of salt. This condiment was all included together in a little round single serving tin like marmalade on the table at Denny’s Restaurant. A very different breakfast toast, that is for sure. We walked the town, had lunch and drove the 70 minutes back to Sevilla.
As we entered suburban Sevilla it began to rain. Not Seattle rain but a Ft Lauderdale downpour. To make things easier for us I had booked to drop off the car at the train station in town rather than at the airport two days later since the airport office would not be open at the early hour of our shuttle to Barcelona. This also saves two days of rental and two days of parking as the car will not be used any longer. Getting to the airport will be in a taxi but still a major savings. Did you know I am rather interested in saving travel money?
So the adventure begins. Unable to find the entrance to the Atesa/National office (we rented through Nova Car in Ireland for an Alamo Spain car – I don’t get it) we drove around again. Remember it is pouring rain in a place we had never been before. Finding the little office with the rental cars parked around it on the second loop, we entered to find nobody in the little office. Remember it is a typhoon now. The note said to go to the office inside the train station. Through the rain across the street and into the station we went getting drenched. The lady said to go back out to the car and she will be there in 10 minutes. [Yea, right!]
In 14 minutes (!!) she arrived at the car, checked us out and we were off. Being the gallant gentleman as I am on rare occasions, I sprung for a taxi rather than walking through the hurricane to the bus stop, waiting and then walking a kilometer from the drop off to the apartment. $7 was never more well spent (Heck, the bus would have cost $4.50!).
Getting home we wanted some wine so I walked about 10 blocks each way to a tiny store. Ann, wanting the wine too, declined my invite to join me on the walk. Yes, through the monsoon I trudged getting drenched. Never before has cheap wine tasted so delicious.
Going out to dinner (through the rain) we got as far as the restaurant next door. In the doorway was a beautiful 20 year old senorita. When Ann looked at the outside menu the senorita said, “Hola”. Slowly, Ann asked if the restaurant was open yet, in Spanish. It was early, about 7:30 pm. In perfect American English she replied that yes they were open but it is dark inside so everyone thinks they are closed. We were blown away by the perfect English from this Sevilla seniorita. We ate there. She could answer any of the hundreds of questions Ann asks of a server at every restaurant. The senorita's answers were in understandable English. Her father is American, her mother is from Seville and she has lived in the US. Her parents own a restaurant behind the cathedral but she works here because she gets paid here - not at the family restaurant. The food was some of the best we have had in Spain.
Dinner was at Christina’s restaurant again. In the past several years the meals in Europe have been disappointing. I mean meals that were not cheap, unlike the kind it seems we are always having. This meal was the best I have had in Europe for a long time. The meat, giant pieces beef and pork with peppers and onion chunks, served on a vertical skewer was tender and succulent with two flavorful sauces, potatoes and rice. For $25 the value was there also. After dinner Christina took us to the adjoining hotel to show us the beautiful patio area courtyard.
I suggested to Ann that since I had no souvenirs from this trip perhaps I could bring my beautiful Sevilla senorita, Christina, home. I think the look really said more than words. I guess no souvenir for Bob.
About Spain:
I thoroughly enjoyed the time in Spain. Being a geek concerning medieval and early renaissance history of Europe, Spain was a new area for me that I knew very little about. Ferdinand and Isabella just scratch the surface. What I knew about the Phoenicians, Romans, then Visigoths and Moors and finally the Christian Kings, Franco and Spain’s new freedom in the EU was woefully lacking to the point of embarrassing. The vast knowledge I gained in this time frame of the history of Iberia made the trip wonderfully enlightening.
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