Granada, home of the Alhambra

Granada, Home of the Alhambra               January 31, 2014

Granada, the Alhambra: such exotic names, conjuring up images of hidden gardens and Arabic palaces.  It was hard to believe that they are real places where people live real lives in a modern world - until we arrived and discovered that Granada is a lively Spanish city.   The smallest and most easterly of the three major cities in Andalusia, it's the most southerly, as well, though not the warmest, due to its location close to the mountain range known as the Sierra Nevada.   Snow on those mountains was a reminder that winter is not far away, after all.

Our AirBnB this time was the modern, spacious apartment of a lovely woman, her two sons - ages 11 & 14 - and their dog, Lucy. We had a bedroom and adjoining private bath - and delicious breakfasts every day, prepared by Rosa.  She was a delightful host, helping us with questions of train tickets, local bus travel, and admission to Alhambra, as well as broadening our ever-evolving understanding of modern Spain.  On our first day there, she had to run off to attend a futball (soccer) game of one son - and then do the same for the other son the day after.  She's divorced and does marketing work from home, but her ex-husband lives nearby and is very involved with their sons.  She could be a Gorham soccer mom. 

 

                       our room in Rosa's modern apartment

Bruce had ordered tickets for the Alhambra even before we arrived in town, as had been advised, and our appointed time was 2pm the next day.  A bus took us from bustling downtown Granada up the steep hill to where the red brick palace-fortress complex stretches out along a high ridge.

 some of the Alhambra walls with snowy mountains in the distance

Visiting in January saved us from the crushing crowds that throng this world-famous site in warmer months.  Even so, the entrance line was pretty long, most of whom were tourists from Spain.  Once we got inside, there was enough space for everyone to spread out and enjoy being drawn into the last bastion of Islamist power in Spain.  After Seville and Cordoba had fallen into the hands of the Christians, the Muslims of these cities flocked to Granada, which managed to hold onto power for another 250 years.  The arts, sciences, and humanities flourished during this time, and Granada became one of the richest cities in Europe.  The grandeur of the Alhambra speaks to this status.  Everywhere one looks, there is beauty:  intricate, dainty stucco work on the walls;  detailed, geometric carved wooden doors and ceilings; horseshoe-arch openings, dripping with lacy hangings; lush, colorful gardens, and everywhere the gorgeous tiles.  Light played on the shiny marble floors, and stately columns created shadows. And the magic of water is everywhere, with its coolness and its soft, burbling sounds and its graceful reflective quality.  It was all very sensual and other-worldly and reminded us of the uplifting power of beauty.

                                      beautiful tiles

A couple of my favorites were the Patio of Lions, where 12 stone lions surround a fountain, each spouting water out of its mouth.  Very fun. Just off to the side of this patio is a room with an amazingly beautiful ceiling, octagonal in shape and embellished with lacy stucco work.  And outside, in another area, is a simple invention that would be so great on a hot, hot day:  a channel of running water that courses down an outdoor stairway - at waist-height so that one's hand can dribble in it while climbing the stairs!

                              Patio de los Liones

       amazing octagonal ceiling with light and stucco work

The water comes rushing down at just the right height to dribble one's hand in it while climbing the stairs.

                             one of the lovely patios

We stayed as long as we could, discovering one lovely pool or garden after another in this magical place, until our stomachs were growling for food and we tore ourselves away, down the hill to the real world and a tapas bar.

Cordoba

Cordoba January 25, 2014

Can it be only 2 1/2 weeks since we left home?  Boy, it seems so much longer!  So many new experiences, so much new information to absorb, such a different culture (though, I guess, not THAT different, since it’s still western world).  

Andalusia, the southern part of Spain where we will spend most of the winter, has several key cities:  Sevilla, Cordoba, and Granada.  There’s Malaga, too, and the small town of Ronda.  Before we’re finished, we hope to have visited all of them, in addition to the village of Alozaina, where we will rent a small vacation home for the month of February.  Last week we were in Sevilla; this week it’s been Cordoba.  We had considered not hitting Cordoba, but I’m so glad that we decided not to skip it. While also on the list of World Heritage Sites, it’s less toney, less polished, half the size, a bit rougher than Sevilla - finding its way in these difficult economic times, with an amazing heritage and friendly people.   

The comparison of the two cities parallels our living experiences in each one.  In Sevilla, we stayed in the beautiful apartment of a nice lawyer and his family.  There was lovely art work on the walls and yummy treats put out for us to eat in the morning, as well as a belle epoque elevator to whisk us up to the third floor.  

Here in Cordoba, we’re staying on the third floor again, but this is a 10th century home (imagine!!), in the process of being restored and made into accommodations for travelers.  The building is owned by a transplanted German woman, very thoughtful and intelligent and worldly, and her place is definitely a work in progress.  It's amazing how she has made our little slice of heaven into an efficient space, with a bed, 2 comfy chairs, a tiny kitchen space, and a place to hang up our clothes, as well as a miniscule bathroom - all in the space that is about the size of our family room sitting area at home, or less. On our arrival last Monday, we entered a pretty, outdoor, enclosed patio with a non-functioning fountain in the middle, surrounded by lots of plants and some outdoor furniture. This is the only area where "weefee" works.  

Our Cordoba patio

We then lugged our bulging bags up two flights through a narrow, dark stairway.  We had been spoiled in our Sevilla spot with our elevator and our Wifi in our room.  But we love the ambiance, Carola's kindness, and the location right in the middle of the old city, not far from the world famous Mezquita.  There are homey little tapas bars all around, where we can take our laptop or our books and just hang out with a plate of fried sardines (boquerones, we could live on these - YUM) and a medio (glass of Cordoba white wine). There is so much antiquity to explore and absorb, just outside the gates of the house.

the old arch leading into our calle

The major draw in Cordoba is the Mezquita, the ancient 8th century mosque (turned Cathedral). Lonely Planet calls it "Andalucia's most spectacular structure" and "impossible to overestimate its beauty". I must say that I, too, was stopped dead in my tracks upon entering the "forest" of red and white arches in a space that holds a spiritual feel like a filmy scarf over all. It evoked a sense of exotic awe and joy, like nothing I've seen. Apparently, the goal of the architects all those centuries ago was to create a feeling of spaciousness and airiness, leading the eye heavenward. It was one of the largest mosques in the world, rivaling only the mosque in Baghdad. After Al-Andalus (the province of Andalucia) was lost to the "Catholic monarchs" during the Reconquista, the conquerors plunked a 16th century cathedral right into the middle of the arches! So, it's a fascinating historical creation, with a Christian church surrounded by an Islamic mosque. The two are totally different in style, of course, considering that they were built nearly a thousand years apart - and for two different religious faiths. I have never seen a marble bull and eagle in a sanctuary - or a lion, for that matter. Nor have I seen a sculpture of an angel wearing knee-length boots and showing bare leg! Anyone who can shed light on these phenomena, please let us know.

             the amazing arches in the Islamic part of the Mezquita

                                      superhero angel

bull and eagle in the Catholic Cathedral part of the Mezquita

Another interesting destination in the old city of Cordoba was the Casa de la Serafad, a house devoted to the Sephardic Spanish experience, with special focus on Maimonides, the great Jewish philosopher, organizer of the Torah rules, and medical expert. He was a native of Cordoba, but had to flee with his family during the time of the Inquisition, ending up in Cairo.

Sephardic pottery and statue of Maimonides in the old Jewish quarter

One of the characteristics of Islamist architecture, apparently, was privacy for the home. The Spaniards seem to have picked up on this concept, too, as inner patios are common. We had seen this in Guatemala, but here the patios are more often open for a peek from passers-by, while still offering protection with a lovely iron gate, designed in scrollwork. Recently, Cordoba has developed a patio competition, I read, where owners decorate their patios with plants, etc. and then open them to the public at certain times (not in the winter). We were able to get a few glimpses, even in January.

Cordoba has a beautiful new pedestrian walkway along the Quadalquivir River (same river as in Seville). In the evening, with the sun setting, it was lovely to join others who were strolling, jogging, biking, etc. Even after dark, energetic exercisers ran over its smooth surface.

The Mezquita and the walkway which runs along the river.

Flamenco: OH-lay, oh yes!

Flamenco: OH-lay, oh yes!  January 22, 2014

On our last day in Seville, Sunday, the 19th, my one goal was to see a flamenco performance.  After all, Andalusia is the home of flamenco.  In Sevilla, the gypsies - who originated this art form - were confined to the town of Triana, across the river from Seville.  It was there that they had expressed their sorrows and frustrations through this ancient tradition of song, guitar-playing, and dance.  Modern flamenco shows, geared toward tourists, can be quite expensive.   We had been steered by Pablo, the young adult son of our hosts, toward La Carboneria, a nearby flamenco bar where the only expense is for the drinks and food that you consume.  The one catch is that they don’t always present flamenco performances.  We decided to take our chances here, rather than in a more pricey alternative.  

So, at about 8:30 pm, we wended our way through a dark, narrow, empty, twisty street of the old Jewish quarter, Santa Cruz, feeling a little unsafe until we heard the sound of a child’s laughter coming from one of the houses.  A bit tentatively, we entered La Carboneria through an old, old door, freshly painted bright red.  We were met by two old men, one softly playing a clarinet, the other - even older, with a big dowager’s hump, wearing a long black coat and large flat-brimmed hat - crouched next to a tall white fireplace.  Its glowing log sent out a welcome warmth on this chilly evening.   The men assured us that a flamenco performance would take place there at 9:30 pm.  

Door to Carboneria

We entered a large, no-nonsense room, furnished with long tables and benches surrounding a plain stage, that held 3 wooden chairs against the back wall.   Along one side of the room was a bar serving all manner of alcoholic beverages - with a few tapas offerings as an afterthought. Overhead, a corrugated steel roof covered everything.  There were very few folks there at this point, so we had our choice of places to sit and selected a spot right in front of the stage.  With an hour to wait and no books on hand to read (we don’t usually leave home without a couple), we resorted to quizzing each other on Spanish vocabulary.  

Right on schedule, the trio of performers took their places on stage.   They were all in their 30’s, I would guess.  To me, the female dancer and the male guitar player looked like sibs.  She was extremely thin, dressed in a tight red dress, with traditional ruffles along the hem, and black dancing shoes.  Her black hair was pulled back into a traditional chignon at the neck, her eyes outlined definitively in black eye-liner.  He was casually dressed and seemed comfortable cradling his guitar.  Between the two of them sat a female singer, dressed in normal street clothes.  

i

Never having experienced flamenco, we were mesmerized and at the same time intrigued by the unexpected lack of melody in the singing.  There was a wailing aspect to it, ranging from low and slow to loud and fast, which gives it such a deeply felt emotional tone.   It reminded me of opera in the depth of emotion being expressed.  Of course, it was sung in Spanish and we had no clue as to the lyrics.  Several songs were performed with just the singer and guitarist.  The dancer kept her attention soberly on the floor in front of her, joining the singer in occasionally clapping the rhythm.  Off to the side of the stage, the old man in the long black coat danced a little bit, almost in spite of himself.  

Finally there was a number that involved the dancer, who took to the front of the stage, her torso stretched out tall, her arms and hands in graceful, taut poses, soon whirling in staccato fashion, her feet striking the floor decisively to accompany the guitarist in creating rhythm.  It was beautiful! 

They performed for ½ hour and then left the stage.  We didn’t know if that was the end or just a break.  We sat for a bit and then decided that we’d had our flamenco experience for that day.  As we departed through the warm outer room with the fireplace and the high walls covered in posters and paintings of dancers and guitarists, it seemed that we had been in some sort of temple to flamenco.  

As pleased as we were with this experience, little did we realize that the very next evening, in the city of Cordoba, we would stumble onto an even more inspiring flamenco gathering.  By then we had moved out of the lovely apartment in Seville, taken a train to Cordoba, and moved into another AirBnB accommodation.  That evening we were walking around the old part of the city, trying to get our bearings (and to get warm by moving around), when we heard flamenco singing coming from a tapas restaurant.  It was about 8:30 pm,  and we decided to stop for a bite to eat and to listen.  In the fairly large dining room, there were 4 people sitting at the end of a long table.  The young male singer’s plaintive song filled the room, accompanied by the skillful guitar playing of a middle-aged man.   We quietly ordered a tapas and began to listen.  Soon the small group was joined by others, mostly older gentlemen, who greeted each other warmly and took a place at the table or nearby.  The room began to fill, all respectfully paying careful attention.  Then an attractive woman shyly but resolutely began to sing in a vocal dance with the music of the guitar.  There were no actual dancers.  

the female singer and the guitarist (note the Montilla-Moriles wine on the table)

a debonair Spanish gentleman in traditional attire

When one singer finished, the guitarist would pause and then continue playing, while another guest would pipe up with a song, ending to shouts of OH-lay and appreciative clapping from everyone.  Before long, the room was filled with about 50 admirers crowded into the space, all ordering a beer or the typical Cordoba white wine, Montilla-Moriles.  We learned from someone sitting near us that these were all amateurs, who gather once a week to sing the traditional flamenco songs.  This gathering seemed to me to be a bit like a Spanish style ceilidh, with no “play set” and various people making their musical offering to the group in a spontaneous way.  It was obvious that they were passionate about this art form.  There seemed to be enough young folks so that there is no danger of it dying out in this region.  I’m sure that we were the only strangers in the room that night - and we felt privileged to be there.  

Italica: a Roman Town in Andalusia, January 22, 2014

Italica, a Roman Town in Andalusia January 22, 2014

Thanks to a PBS series on Rome a few years ago, Bruce has been intrigued by the Roman culture for some time.   When he saw that the largest Roman ruins in Spain were near Sevilla, he wanted to visit them.  After several damp, sometimes rainy days, Saturday, the 18th, looked promising, with blue skies when we awoke.   The plan was put into action:  catch a bus from the local station to nearby Santiponce, where Italica is located.  Off we went, surviving the Spanish-only directions from the information guy in the bus station and setting off in the first motorized transport that we’d used in a whole week.  Black clouds gathered as we rode out of town, and it was drizzling by the time that we arrived in Italica.  Oh, well.  As Alex, my colleague at Breakwater used to say, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing”.  Unfortunately, we were dressed in bad clothing!  The good news was that there was no entrance fee.  And before long, the rain stopped.  

Italica was begun by the Romans in the year 206 BC.  So, it’s more than 2000 years old! Hard to imagine.  It was a city of 10,000 people, the most important city outside of the Italian peninsula - and the birthplace of Trajan, the first Roman emperor born “in the provinces”.  Trajan was the father of Hadrian, who built the wall in England.  

The first impressive site at Italica was the huge amphitheater with an estimated capacity of 20,000 spectators!  It has an oval shape - similar in shape to present-day bullrings - with a similar covered “gallery” under the viewing stadium.  The tunnel-like gallery  encircling the amphitheater is intact and can be explored.  

The Roman amphitheater

The gallery surrounding the amphitheater

Bruce is standing in the amphitheater

The other fascinating area at Italica was the neighborhood of houses, accessed by intact streets, with many of the smoothly worn paving stones still in place so that you could see how this part of the town was laid out.  The houses themselves are gone, their cut stones having been recycled over the centuries and used for subsequent buildings.  But the amazing thing is that lots of their mosaic floors have survived and are in great shape!  One of the floors depicts more than 30 birds in mosaic!  Another house mosaic features the seven Roman gods whose names are related to the days of the week.  Considering the antiquity of these creations, their exposure to 2000 years of weather, as well as to marauders over the centuries, they are in unbelievably fantastic condition.   We had actually visited a “palace/museum” in Seville in which many of the artifacts, including beautiful floor mosaics, had been taken from Italica by an archeologist in the early 1900’s - when presumably there were no laws prohibiting such a thing.  

The floor tiles of a Roman home, depicting Roman gods

             

                          close up of the mosaic of Jupiter

All of Andalusia (from Al-Andalus, the Muslim word for this region) has such a many-layered history, with the Romans, the Visigoths, the Jews, the Muslims, the Christians - and probably others - having left their legacies.  There is so much to learn about here!  

Nice Roman buns!

Sevilla (Say-VEE-ya), January 17, 2014

Sevilla (Say-VEE-ya)                    January 17, 2014

It's hard to believe that it's been just over a week since we left Maine. As always, when you are dropped into a new culture, it seems like we've been away for ages!  We are slowly adjusting to the rhythm of life here, though it is still weird to wake up at 8am and have it be dark outside.  I guess we make up for it on the other end of the day, when darkness descends again around 6:30pm.   I can't say that there has been much sun this past week.  Mostly cloudy & gray with some real rain today. Temp's are in the 60's.  Actually the temperature is pretty good for walking around (and I'm not complaining, mind you :)  The Sevilla folks continue to eat outdoors at restaurants with sidewalk tables, sometimes with heaters in the evenings.

                "the mushoom", huge outdoor construction

Seville is a university city, and there are lots of students around. They cluster at popular tapas bars in the evening, filling the tiny inside space and overflowing to tables outside.  Lots of smoking going on - by all ages.  This is Europe, after all.  But nary an overweight person.  Again, it's Europe!   One thing that surprises me is the lack of Africans, either blacks or Muslim Africans, as we would see in Portland, which has about 1/7 the population of Seville.  With the proximity to Africa, I expected to see many more.  Perhaps the "crisis" keeps them away.  Or perhaps they live in other neighborhoods.  Lots of Asians here, though, both students and great groups of tourists, all walking dutifully in line behind their guides.

Tapas are the mainstay of our diet here.  Much ham (mostly Iberico, which is very thinly sliced and includes the fat.  Angel told us that THIS fat is actually good for us :).   We've had some lovely, creative tapas offerings, too.  We may have to do another tapas dinner with our cooking group in April when we return.  Three or four little dishes, shared between the two of us, with a glass of tinto (red wine) for me and a cervesa (beer) for Bruce - and we're good to go.  

                        Our favorite tapas bar - the Europa

Our week in Sevilla is going by quickly.  So far, in addition to the Alcazar, the exotic World Heritage Site complex that I wrote about in our last blog, we have visited the massive Cathedral - the largest in the world (and they have the framed Guinness Book of World Records certificate proudly displayed to prove it!).  Large enough for Bruce and I to easily become lost from each other as we explored it.  In one area, hoisted aloft by four oversize wooden colonial figures, is the coffin that supposedly holds the body of Christopher Columbus.   Adjoining the cathedral is the Giralda, a huge minaret from Muslim days, now a bell tower and a symbol of Sevilla.  It rises high into the sky and is accessed by a long, four foot wide enclosed brick ramp.  The ramp apparently was used in the old days so that guards could reach the top by riding in a horse-drawn cart.  We modern folks troop up there under our own power!

the Giralda, the former minaret/current bell tower of the cathedral

Yesterday we upped our sight-seeing productivity a bit and actually visited a number of sites, a couple of which had been suggested by Pepe, our fluent English-speaking host, who reads the New Yorker every week!  He's a practicing lawyer and doesn't have much time to chat, but we've had a few interesting moments to share with him in this "AirBnB".  He had suggested visiting a nearby luxury hotel, the Alphonso XIII, built in 1928 for the World Expo held in Sevilla at that time.  It's very ornate, with lots of tile work, an interior garden where guests can take afternoon tea, an original piece of art work by Juan Miro for sale in one of its galleries (!), uniformed wait staff that quietly appear to bring you a coffee - at a pretty reasonable price, given the surroundings.  You get the picture.  Pepe remembers going there to meet with Orson Wells, who frequented this hotel each winter.  Apparently Pepe and a few friends were fans, and they had a chance to meet with him and talk about film.

The Jewish Museum was another destination.  It's fairly new, staffed by enthusiastic young folks, and it offers a very interesting history of the Sephardic experience over the centuries in Spain.  A sad one, but fascinating to read the brief biographies of influential Jewish citizens.  We were astonished to read that the laws governing the Inquisition (1400's) did not all get overturned until 1865!  And that the treatment of Jews by the rulers during the heyday of the Inquisition paralleled that of the Nazis five hundred years later, with a special identifying mark required on clothes and confiscation of property.  One room in the museum held old house keys, hanging from the ceiling.  We were told that the keys were passed down by families for generations, in hopes that they would one day return to their homes in Spain.

Today we visited the Plaza del Toros de la Real (Royal) Maestranza - Seville's bullring.  It's reportedly the oldest bullring in Spain - and the tour was more interesting than we had anticipated.  In fact, Bruce would now like to see a bullfight!  Unfortunately, the season doesn't begin until April.  Maybe we can squeeze it in before we return home.  The traditions, national passion, and honor of this sport, so closely associated with Spain (though it's carried out in most Latin American nations, as well as southern France) make it a bit compelling.

                Sevilla's bullring - it holds 12,000 spectators

                         proud bullfighter outside the ring

So, that's what the Webb's have been up to this week in Seville. We haven't heard the "soul ripping sound of flamenco" yet, but it's definitely on my must-hear list!  Time's running out.  Maybe tonight!

Hasta luega!

Adios, Madrid; Hola, Seville! January 14, 2014

Adios, Madrid; Hola, Sevilla!      January 14, 2014

The next two days in Madrid were filled with more exploration, more good food, and lots more conversation.  We learned about the desire of the Catalonians (the area where Barcelona is located) to become independent, which frustrates the rest of the Spaniards.  In fact, it seems that all of the northern regions are more prosperous than the south and somewhat resistant to sending their revenues to support that area.  

We learned about high unemployment and the outpouring of young Spaniards to places like England and Ireland. (I'd also heard about this on National Public Radio at home.)  We attended a gallery show in the Matadero, featuring amazing new ideas from all of the Latin American countries, as well as Spain.  Lots of creativity out there for solving the world's problems.

Angel brought tourist brochures that he had collected, describing the lesser known (to us, anyway) areas of Galicia, Asturias, and the Basque area along the northern coast, west of the Pyrenees.  He is a great promoter of Spain, and it's obvious that he's passionate about his country.  He also helped Bruce get up to speed on using our new smart phone.  (Still having trouble with pix on this blog, though.  We've got a couple but not the ones I want or where I want them!).

On Saturday evening, after B & I had been out visiting a home where Cervantes had worked and other Madrid sights, Angel took the lead in cooking his grandmother's recipe for potato tortilla (omelette).  These had an added touch of long, green sweet peppers which had been cooked in oil and laid over the top.  Yum!  The next day, Andrea led us on a grocery store tour where we picked up ingredients for a paella, including a bare baby bunny, which the butcher chopped into pieces for us.  Our meal began with large shrimp (langoustines), then the delicious moist & flavorful vegetable-rabbit paella.  Dessert was a special fresh strawberry/balsamic vinegar dish that Andrea had learned as a teenager in Venezuela. Oh, my, did we eat well in Madrid!  We certainly enjoyed our time there so much.

                      Tile detail from the Alcazar in Seville

All good things must come to an end.  It was time for Andrea and Angel to reclaim their lives and their living space.  We departed on Monday morning on the train for Seville.  It was a 2.5 hour trip through mostly flat terrain, past olive groves (Spain produces an enormous amount of olive oil) and past sheep and cattle farms. 

                             Pool in the Alcazar in Seville

We walked from the train station to our airbnb (their first guests ever to walk!).  We're staying with a nice family in a beautiful second floor apartment near the Alcazar, the ancient (and current) home of Spain's royal family.  Our roomy bedroom looks out through tall French doors onto a quiet street.  The weather has been rather cloudy for the past day but the temp is about 60 degrees.  Palm trees and parrots add an exotic touch.  Last night we sampled bulls tail, a Spanish specialty, at a tapas restaurant.  Kinda bony.  I wouldn't recommend it.  The pork stew was much better.

Today we toured the Alcazar, an impressive, large complex of palaces and gardens dating back to the 1200's.  They are very Moorish in appearance with lacy filigree arches and lots of tile work, geometric designs, and fountains.  That burbling sound of flowing water must be so appealing in Seville's scorching summers!  One could easily be transported to an ancient mystical time.  As we walked the garden paths, we turned around to see a peacock ambling down a path with his friend, a lame mallard duck, following in his footsteps!  They responded to Bruce's whistle while I took a picture (of course), then continued on their way.

We are still way off on our eating/sleeping regime.  Just when I thought that we had it, we seem to be missing meals and then getting hungry when we're not supposed to!  Bedtime seems to be around midnight, with wake-up around 9 am.  Breakfast right away, a big mid-day meal around 2 pm (?), then a nap, and a lighter meal late in the evening.  Give us a couple of more weeks.  Maybe we'll get into the rhythm.  

Bienvenidos, January 10, 2014

After a lovely overnight with Jane Andrews and Don Bouchard in Gorham, during which we could re-think our packing and make adjustments, we headed to the airport for our 3:30 pm flight to Philadelphia on Wednesday, January 8.   We encountered several delays in leaving first Portland, then Philadelphia, finally lifting out of USA on our way to Madrid at about 8pm.  The pilot promised to try to make up for lost time, and that he did, landing us smoothly on Spanish soil at about 8:30 am on Thursday.  The flight was good but we barely slept.  Those US Air seats are fine for sitting but just too small and uncomfortable for sleeping.

European customs seems to be non-existent.  We got our baggage and left the airport, without anyone asking if we had citrus fruit or had visited a farm or were bringing weapons or lots of valuables.  Seems very trusting.  Outside we were met with 60 degree weather, green grass, birds chirping - nirvana for Brucie!   We found the shuttle bus to the city center and treated ourselves to a taxi from there to Andrea's apartment.

Andrea is the young woman whom we had met in Guatemala in 2011, when we all were volunteering at Safe Passage.  She calls herself our "heart daughter", and we are very fond of her.   Having grown up in Venezuela but lived in Madrid for the past 10 years, she knows the Spanish culture of both the new world and the old.   She is a fantastic person, full of life and ideas and fun, a foodie like us, and obviously very generous, having opened her home to us for the second time now.  It is such a gift to spend time with her and her boyfriend, Angel (AHN-hel).  They are like cultural coaches for us, very knowledgeable about the history and culture of Spain with much information to share.  Andrea speaks English well, and Angel is giving us a good work-out in Spanish while trying to practice his English, too.   It's hard work all around!

This is a sampling of our activities for the past two days.  After a wonderful home-cooked meal by Andrea, including a fabulous artichoke dish, off we went for a long walk to the Matadores, a complex of beautiful old industrial buildings which served as a slaughter house in the old days.  It's now a trendy venue for all kinds of things, including a gallery offering a presentation on the papyrus scrolls discovered in Pompeii (remember our discussion about Pompeii just last week, Sam?).  We then ambled along part of a long walkway that we had explored two years ago, passing dog walkers, a busy skateboarding area, a soccer field filled with young athletes, etc., until after dark.  Bruce felt that he had been liberated from winter!

Today was a full-on foodie day.  We made a pretense of visiting a cathedral, but it really was all about the food.  Andrea and Angel introduced us to the "Latina" neighborhood of Madrid, named after a woman who had lived there and had been a scholar of many languages.  It has narrow side streets and lots of eating establishments.  We began with a stop to sample vermuth.  It was the color of coca-cola and tasted nothing like the drink that is included in martinis.  More like sherry. Then we were off to a cheese store where we restrained ourselves, buying only 3 small wedges.  This was followed by an amazing ham shop, sporting large dried ham hocks hanging from the ceiling, hoofs and all.  In the middle of the store was a big wheel with about 5 ham hocks speared onto it, where the young vendor was slicing off paper-thin pieces at about $80 per pound.  We bought the more reasonably priced pre-packaged serrano ham.  Two tapas bars followed with small dishes of delicious offerings.  My favorite was the bacalao (cod) buried in aoli sauce.  The breaded sauteed eggplant with bacon and cheese was pretty good, too!  We topped it all off with coffee and chocolate cake to share in the back room of an atmospheric little cafe.

Of course, the tapas was accompanied by red wine and lots of good conversation.  Angel and Andrea are encouraging us to hike part of the Camino, the ancient trail that Roman Catholic pilgrims have trod for centuries on their way to the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain.   It is believed that the bones of St. James are buried there.  Various trails from all over Europe lead to this religious site.  Bruce and I have considered doing some of the hike - but not very seriously, I must admit.  Well, we're getting more serious.   We have our backpacks, our hiking shoes, and a place to leave our suitcases!  We'll see.  It would be at the end of our time here, in early April, if we do it.

Now it is evening.  Andrea is off to her yoga class.  Angel will join us all later to do some cooking, imbibing, and sampling of all those goodies that we bought today.  We like this Spanish lifestyle!  

Andrea's Yummy Artichoke Dish 
artichoke hearts           chopped serrano ham
chopped onions            chopped parsley
minced garlic                paprika
salt & pepper                lemon juice
olive oil
Combine everything and saute in the olive oil.  

Sorry for the lack of photos. Getting them from the camera to the blog is our next challenge!

Escaping Winter, January 2, 2014

Escaping Winter, January 2, 1014

Testing, testing....(my rusty technology skills!)
After 17 months at home and with winter approaching - heck, with ferocious winter weather here already- the Webb's are firing up the blog for another adventure in a far-away (read "warmer") land.  This time our travels take us to Spain.  We leave next week, on January 8, 2014, and will return on April 15.   As the snow whips around us this morning, Bruce is delighted to have tix to "be on a jet plane" very soon.  I always find it more difficult to leave my cozy home, my family, my friends, my meaningful activities - but I usually snap into gear and love all the new sights and experiences after Bruce manages to pry me loose!  

Adios (literally, "to God", I like that.)