Biggest suggestion: Bring a guidebook with you. “Let’s Go Spain & Portugal” is a good resource for budget travelers. Also, the local "Guia de Ocio" can be purchased for one Euro from a Madrid newsstand/kiosk. It'll give you the latest on theatre, dance, music, etc. Pick one up! It'll be the best Euro you'll spend.
Wear money, credit card, ATM card under your clothes at all times. Seriously. Pick pocketers are fierce. Don't let them ruin your trip.
Walk, walk and walk. (Make sure you have comfortable shoes.) Free city maps are available in most hotels. You’ll stumble upon something fabulous wherever you go. Each neighborhood has its own distinct flavor. The metro, however, is easy to navigate. Cheap/fast transportation.
Grocery stores: Champion and %Dia are the least expensive. El Corte Ingles has a high-end grocery available. Explore one! Alimentaciones (like a food convenience store) are abundant.
Chocolateria San Gines: Even if you’re not big on chocolate, don’t miss this place. Chocolate (rich, thick, pudding-like) drink with churros are to die for. It’s located on the Pasadizo de San Gines, near La Plaza Mayor. Buy a couple of boxes of the chocolate to take home with you.
Coffee: Skip Starbucks. You can have that here. Enjoy Spain’s magnificent coffee. Café con leche (coffee with milk) is my favorite. Add sugar, if you’d like.
Museo de Jamon: Walk inside to get the full effect. Their picnic para llevar (picnic to go) is very reasonable. Sandwich, piece of fruit, drink. Buy a picnic, sit down, eat, watch the world go by.
Rastro (Flea Market): Sunday morning. Keep an eye on your purse/wallet. Worth visiting, though. Remember, think small! (Small souvenirs to bring home.) Airline weight limit!! (You’ll be charged for the extra weight, and it’s not cheap.)
Flamenco: The Ballet Flamenco de Madrid is stunning. Do NOT miss them! Discount shows available. Also, Casa Patas was good, but a tad pricey for what you get. Better to explore impromptu flamenco gatherings at local tabernas, I think. Be prepared to stay up late!
Museo del Prado: Really. It’s one of the top museums, some argue the top museum, in the world. Take advantage of seeing it more than once. Don’t miss “The Garden of Earthly Delights” by Bosch and Velazquez's stunning work.
Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia: Sort of like NYC’s Museum of Modern Art. Fabulous. Tops MOMA with Picasso’s Guernica, which depicts the Basque town that was bombed during the Spanish Civil War. Also boasts work of Texan Donald Judd.
Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza: Hosts a wide range of art, but the Impressionist and Post-Impressionist era is my favorite. A former Miss Spain married an Austrian industrialist and convinced him to donate his vast collection to Madrid. Lucky for Madrid!
Museo Sorolla: Sort of like the McNay Museum of Art in San Antonio. Sorolla was an impressionist artist who didn’t receive the acclaim his French contemporaries did. Shame, because his work (and his home) is beautiful.
Templo de Debod: Built in the second century before Christ in Egypt. Moved to Madrid before the Aswan Dam flooded the region. Outdoor setting. Nicer than NYC’s Metropolitan Museum of Arts’ temple, I think. Free!
Museo de America: Beautifully renovated museum that tells the story of Spain’s legacy. Near the Faro de Moncloa (observation tower) that offers a great view of the entire city.
Segovia daytrip: Takes an hour and a half to get there by bus. Roman aqueduct alone is worth the trip. Beautiful castle (Alcazar), too. Walt Disney supposedly based Sleeping Beauty’s on this one.
Toledo daytrip: Takes an hour and a half to get there by bus. Home of El Greco. Gorgeous Cathedral built between 1226 and 1498. Swords for the “Lord of the Rings” films made here.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Even more Madrid!
We're back in San Antonio. Our flight from Newark, New Jersey, was a tad delayed, so we didn't get in until after 11:30 p.m. Monday, San Antonio time, which was 6:30 a.m. Tuesday, Madrid time. Since we woke up at 6:30 a.m. Monday in Madrid to have breakfast and make it to the hotel's lobby by 8: 15 a.m., it was a full 24 hours of travel. I'm happy to report that we all made it back safe and sound.
I'm also happy to report that I stepped on the scale yesterday morning, and didn't gain a pound! The secret? WALKING. WALKING, and MORE WALKING. Even though we had ice cream for dessert almost every night and I drank too many cups of San Gines chocolate (and vino tinto) to count, I didn't gain any weight. Plus, I'm in much better shape than I was before we left. So, forget joining a gym! Just book a trip to Spain for three weeks!
I didn't have time to write about our adventures in Madrid while we were there since we were on the run non-stop. Here's a re-cap of our last several days there:
After dinner at Anonimatto on Thursday, Gary and I rook Richard to the hospital. He'd been running a fever on and off since Sevilla (about six days), and he wanted to get checked out before he began traveling on his own. (After our trip, he was flying to Belgium to visit several countries before meeting up with a group from SAC who will tour England, France and Italy.) I'd already made plans to meet up with the rest of my Spanish family, so I didn't stay long at the hospital. ER ("Urgencia") waiting rooms aren't any different from those in the U.S. Lots of sitting around.
When I got to my Spanish family's piso on Cea Bermudez, four of my five sisters were there: Maria, the baby; Silvia, second to the youngest and my same age; Maricarmen, third oldest; and Beatriz, the eldest. (Elena, the second to the oldest daughter, lives outside of Madrid, but we were able to see her son, Willie, who had spent the day with Pilar and Paco.) Beatriz suggested that we go to a nearby park so that the kids (Maricarmen's twin 8-year-old daughters, Willie, Carmen--Silvia's 13-year-old daughter, and Aedan) could play. I was once again impressed with Spain's dedication to creating enjoyable spaces for its citizens. Even though it was after 9 p.m., the park was full of joggers, walkers, strollers, golfers (driving range), and work-out enthusiasts (at an outdoor gym, sort of like one on Town Lake in Austin, but larger), all relishing the pleasant weather and beautiful setting. Giant fountains that shape shifted and color shifted were the park's best feature. The cool spray felt wonderful, and the girls loved dancing in the mist.
After walking around the park, we headed over to the playground so that the kids could climb and swing. It was so good to "catch up" with my sisters. They all lead busy, fulfilled lives, and I'm thrilled that we have remained friends over the past 25 years. It looks like the next generation will be friends, too. Aedan hit it off with Silvia and Samantha, the twins, so we're already planning to visit them in New Jersey and/or have them visit us in San Antonio. Aedan also enjoys being around Carmen, Silvia's daughter. I told her that she ought to come spend a summer with us to practice her English. Truthfully, I'd love for all of my Spanish family to come see us in Texas. They know that the welcome mat is always out.
We didn't say goodbye until after 11 p.m., so we didn't get to sleep until long after midnight. (Remember, transnocheras we're not.) We slept in late Friday morning and decided to skip Segovia since we'd visited there in 2004. (It's gorgeous, though, and I highly recommend that you spent at least one day there. Mother and Casey went and loved it, as did Steve. The Roman aqueduct is an amazing sight to behold.) After breakfast, Aedan, Blair and I went to the Museo Arqueologico Nacional (National Archeological Museum). It's massive, with a collection ranging from the evolution of mankind to the modern age. The Egyptian mummies, the Guarrazar treasures, the Alhambra jarrones (giant jars), and the Dama de Baza were my favorites of the collection.
After a little over two hours in the museum, Aedan and I had seen all that we wanted, so we left Blair behind. (He stayed for four and a half hours. Steve beat him, though. He visited the museum three separate occasions! Like I said, it's a massive museum with an incredible collection.)
Aedan and I walked to the Mercado de Fuencarral, a funky, Austin-like, three-story mini-mall, via Chueca, a gay neighborhood. While we were in town, Madrid was the official location of Europride, a gay/lesbian celebration, so the area was hopping. A band was rocking out in an outdoor plaza, and the drummer was wearing a hot pink lucha libre mask. He made me think of Melanie, one of my Oaxaca students, who looked for a mask for her fiancée while we were there in March. I was also reminded of Candace, another of my Palo Alto students, who won the Guitar Wars' Contest last year. I think she would have liked the band, which was heavy on the metal. I couldn't help but admire one attendee's t-shirt that read, "Make music, not missiles." I didn't find that t-shirt in the Mercado de Fuencarral, but I did find a brown one at a store named KLING that is covered in metallic gold polka dots. I don't know if I'll ever have the nerve to wear it in San Antonio, but it makes me happy just to look at it.
Aedan and I stopped to have lunch at a posh McDonald's (inlaid marble floors and high, gold-painted ceilings) on Gran Via. It was Aedan's fourth and final Happy Meal for the trip. (Not bad, since she ONLY ate at McDonald's in 2004.) She got the prince from Shrek 3 in this meal. I just ate a cheese bocadillo I had left over from breakfast and some of her french fries. We decided to go to El Corte Ingles, a high-end department store near Sol, after lunch, so I looked at a map to figure out the most direct route. We walked down Calle Montera, a street I'd never been on before, to get to Sol. Mercy! It's hooker alley. Young women dressed in short shorts, high heels, and tons of makeup were on parade. We'd already had a talk about this line of work after Dave's experience with the prostitutes in Barcelona, but hearing about it is much different than seeing it. Aedan's eyes were like saucers. (Mine were, too!) I'm sure she will have plenty to tell her fifth grade friends when she gets back to school in August. Yeesh. It made me sad.
We made it to Sol's El Corte Ingles without any incident, but we were told that all of the Spain souvenirs were now at the Callao store, not too far away. We walked over there and we found the purse that Aedan had been longing for: hot pink with MADRID written all over it in white lettering, save for one turquoise MADRID on each side. Adorable. We walked over to the Opera metro stop and made our way back to the hotel. After resting for a bit, we strolled down the street in front of the hotel, Paseo de La Florida. I wanted to buy a tube to put our posters and Aedan's caricature in, and I had seen a Chinese dollar store on my walks down to the locutorio that I wanted to visit. Success! We found a plastic tube at a papeleria (stationery store), and I found a cute pair of silk slip-on shoes (dragons and all!) at the Chinese dollar store. (It was odd to speak Spanish to someone whose native language is Chinese; however, I don't speak Chinese and she didn't speak English, so at least we were able to communicate in Spanish!) Aedan also scored a zoo of tiny stuffed animals that light up and say "I love you!" in English. We ran back to the hotel hoping that Blair would be back. (Aedan and I were out of cash.) Blair wasn't home, so we knocked on Richard's door. He spotted us the 10 Euros we needed until dinner.
Dinner was back at El Museo de Vino. I split a little jar of sangria with Steve. Oranges and lemons flavored the drink. Yum. Aedan and I went to San Gines after dinner. Several of my Palo Alto students were already there. Blair opted out. He went with Steve to a pub that serves all kinds of European beers. After San Gines, I asked the doorman at the disco Joy Eslava, which is next to San Gines, if I could walk Aedan through. I'd danced the night away there on more than one occasion 25 years ago. It's still as beautiful as ever. I went back into San Gines to tell the students to check it out. The doors opened at 11 p.m. Aedan and I headed back to our hotel. Blair wasn't far behind. They couldn't find the pub that Steve liked, but they managed to find another one that served Belgian beer.
On Saturday, Blair woke me up at 9:50 a.m.!!! My watch alarm went off at 8:30 a.m., but I turned it off. Good thing he woke up, or we would have missed breakfast. We saw Mariana and Richard at breakfast. I took off by myself to go to the Sorolla Museum and the Reina Sofia Museum. (Aedan was museumed out. She and Blair were going to lay low and perhaps hang out at a park.) From Principe Pio, I took the metro to Cuatro Caminos. While riding, I was reminded again of how Spain is a nation of newspaper readers. Almost everyone riding had a tabloid-sized paper in hand.
I was supposed to change to the turquoise line to go to the Iglesia metro stop, but I got off at Cuatro Caminos by mistake. After I walked up the 233 steps, a new record, I decided to walk the rest of the way to the museum. (I did not want to walk the 233 steps back down. My chest was still heaving. My thighs were burning, and my heartbeat was racing.) The walk from Cuatro Caminos to the museum was fairly long but totally worth it. Along the way, I saw framed prints of Botero's paintings that are now hanging in the San Antonio Museum of Art and the Southwest School of Art and Craft. I also stumbled upon an incredible jewelry store, Arte Mineral, at Santa Engracia, 88, where I purchased my fifteenth wedding anniversary present: two thin turquoise rings that "guard" my tenth wedding anniversary present, a gold rosary ring. (Blair was happy that he was off the hook.) I explained to the store's owner that I had made a mistake and gotten off at Cuatro Caminos instead of Iglesias, but I was glad that I had. He said, "No hay mal que por bien no venga." (There's no bad that good doesn't come.)
I got to the Sorolla Museum and felt right at home. The museum was one of my "haunts" during the year that I lived in Madrid, and I love being there. Sorolla was an Impressionist painter who was a contemporary of the French impressionists. Because he was Spanish and not French, he didn't receive the acclaim that they did, but I think his work is every bit as good or better. While I was walking through his home, which is where the museum is housed (a la the McNay), I came across one of my favorite paintings, "Mis Hijos". I said to the gentleman next to me, "Es como Velazquez." (It's like Velazquez.) He said, "Alguien dicen que el es mejor." (Some say that he's better than Velazquez.) Sorolla painted giant, realistic portraits, like John Singer Sargent, and he painted gorgeous beachscapes. He also painted amazing still lifes of his home's garden. He was a master of capturing light. Sorolla's home is quite beautiful, and you can tell that he made it that way to empower his painting. He was very influenced by La Alhambra's gardens, and the tiles and fountains throughout his outdoor gardens echo La Alambra's beauty. Once again, tears came to my eyes. Such beauty! Such talent! Do not miss the Sorolla Museum if you're in Madrid. It's free on Sundays. (Several of my students went, and I'm happy that they did. Mother and Casey went, too, and Mother said that it was one of the highpoints of her trip.)
From the Sorolla, I walked to the Iglesia metro stop and took the metro directly to the Atocha Renfe stop. When we were in Spain in 2004, we went by the Atocha station to pay our respects to those who had lost their lives on March 11. I wanted to stop in to do the same, and I was pleased to see that an official memorial had opened. You walk through glass doors into a room that lists all the names of those who were killed. You then walk into a bigger room that's painted royal blue, and a circle of light, almost like a theatre spotlight pointed directly down, beckons you. When you walk into the circle of light, you notice peaceful and encouraging words and phrases that are engraved onto a large, glass-like cylinder that goes up above the street. I'd seen the cylinder from the street level, but I didn't know what it was. I was glad that I made the trip inside.
When I left the station, I asked a street cleaner where the Reina Sofia Museum was. He said, "En frente de la fuente." (In front of the fountain.) That's a fun phrase to say, so I said it over and over as I walked to the museum. I visited the Reina Sofia when we were in Madrid back in 2004, but I felt rushed. It's a huge museum, and I wanted to take my time. I did, and I was blown away. First I strolled through a special exhibit, Louis Gordillo's "Tropical Iceberg". I was reminded of my brother-in-law Tobin's art. I think his work is every bit as good or better, and I wish he could get a show at the RS! I also saw a special exhibit of the artwork of the famed architect Le Corbusier. His sculpture of a woman carved out of wood reminded me of San Antonio artist Phil Evett's work.
I then traveled into yet another special exhibit, "Los Cineticos". I was blown away. Too many fantastic works to name them all. I was especially taken with work by Jose Patricio (domino floor), Rebecca Horn (motorized paint brushes that bend back and forth like a peacock), Jean Pierre Yvaral (paintings of Salvador Dali and Marilyn Monroe, all made out of either square or diamond shapes), Jesus Rafael Soto's "Penetrable" (a forest of plastic IV tubes hung from above that you walk through--an amazing sensation, sort of like walking through cool spaghetti), and Carlos Cruz-Diez's "Physichromie 22" (painted edges of cardboard in day-glo colors that were then arranged on their sides in a shallow box). It was an awe-inspiring showcase of creativity.
The second and fourth floors of the Reina Sofia hold the permanent collection. Lots of Picasso, Dali and Miro. Picasso's "Guernica" steals the show. I'm still moved each time I see the mother who is holding her dead child and crying out in anguish. I enjoyed seeing Texan Donald Judd's "Sin Titulo" (Without Title), a sculpture he did in 1992. As I was going down the elevator, I started talking to two guys from New York City. I told them not to miss "Los Cineticos," and they asked me where to go for chocolate after their museum visit. (They asked the right person! San Gines, of course.)
I had about an hour before I needed to meet our group for dinner, so I walked up Atocha toward Sol. I landed at a tavern down the street from our meeting place called La Tia Cebolla (Calle de la Cruz, 27). On the way there, I ran into a woman dressed in rainbow colored feathers and ruby red slippers. She was from Scotland, and she was with friends from Barcelona. I asked if I could take a picture of her, and her friend said that she would take a picture of me with her. Even better! We started chatting, and I found out they were in town for Europride and were headed to a huge parade.
At La Tia Cebolla, I asked for a tinto, and the waitress brought the wine and a plate of tapas (cubed cheese, sausage, and melba toast bites that were shaped like American footballs). I sat there, sipped my wine, enjoyed the tunes they were playing--a waitperson gave me a list of her favorites: Andres Calamara, Chambao, Los Delincuentes, Bebe, Kiko Veneno, Los Rodriguez, and Camaroy--and wrote in my Express-News reporter's notebook. Ah, Spain!
After dinner at El Museo de Vino (again), Blair, Aedan, Mariana and I went to a flamenco show at Casa Patas. (It started at 9 p.m., so it was perfect for us non-transnocheras; however, Mariana, la vampira, stayed out after the show, of course!) The dancers, one male and one female, were good, as were the two guitar players, the two singers, and the one cajon (percussion) player. It was a bit on the pricey side, 31 Euros, but you got up close and personal, and the price included one drink. After the show, Blair, Aedan and I headed for the hotel.
We slept in late on Sunday, and our friends Mari and Felix picked us up at the hotel at 11 a.m. The drive to their home, which is south of Madrid on the way to Toledo, only took about 30 minutes. They've lived there almost three years, and it's beautiful. It was so good to see Javier and Cristina, too. We also met Mari's mother, who's 80, for the first time. We felt like visiting royalty. Mari and Felix prepared a feast fit for kings and queens. After a stroll through Griñon and a stop at a local restaurant for a drink and some tapas (see Griñon entry), Felix bar-b-qued 11 (yes, ELEVEN!) types of meat: cordero, cinta de lomo, butifarra, pinchos morunos, hamburguesa, secreto, chorizo, morcilla, sardinas, and panceta. They also had jamon serrano, which we ate with melon. (Melon con jamon.) Delicious sweet and salty taste together. On top of all the meat, we also had tortilla española, gazpacho, a giant salad topped with all sorts of goodies, wine, beer, and an after-dinner drink called Mano de Santo (a liqueur made out of raisins). For dessert, Cristina and Mari made tiramisu with Cola Cao (sort of like Nestle's Quik or Ovaltine) instead of coffee. We thoroughly enjoyed laughing--at one point I asked Javier if he was allergic to anything. My allergies had been acting up in Madrid, and so had some of the students'. He said, "Work" without missing a beat!--and catching up and exchanging recipes with Mari, Felix, Javier and Cristina. We hope that we'll be able to return their hospitality in the very near future.
Mari, Felix and Cristina drove us back to our hotel in Madrid in time to meet our group at 6:30 p.m. Mother and Casey ran down to meet them, and I'm happy they did. We had dinner at Marciano again, but I couldn't eat a bite. I was afraid I might explode. I asked for a doggy bag. It's the first time I've had paella para llevar (paella to go). I did take all of the chicken out before packing it. I had some today, and it tasted great. After dinner, most everyone in the group went to see "Carmen" at the Teatro Reina Victoria. What a way to end our adventure! I've seen a lot of flamenco over the years, but this show topped them all. Sara Lezana choreographed Bizet's famous opera, and she even danced in the show. I don't know how old she is, but I do know this: she's still got it. Wow. What a dancer! I gave her a standing ovation after she finished, and she acknowledged my wild clapping with a nod. Truly, the show was breathtaking. The woman who played Carmen was superb. All of the guy dancers were great. The torredor, especially, was a knock out. I leaned over to Erica and whispered, "Wouldn't you like to take him home?!" She nodded yes, laughed, and passed it along to Sarah. If Arts San Antonio can bring the Royal Ballet to town, I don't see why they can't bring Ballet Flamenco de Madrid to town. I know that it would be a hit! I bought a program, and I wanted to buy a DVD. The guy selling programs said that they wouldn't be available until next week but that I could buy one then online. I'm going to.
After the show, we walked one last time through La Puerta del Sol to our final metro ride of this trip. I took a great picture of the Tio Pepe neon sign all lit up. I wish I could bottle Madrid and bring it home with us. Since I can't, we'll just have to go back. Like Mariana said in 2004, "Es como una droga!" (It's like a drug!) Spain is indeed an addiction you can't and don't want to break. I hope this blog has given Spain to you. Thanks for traveling with us!
I'm also happy to report that I stepped on the scale yesterday morning, and didn't gain a pound! The secret? WALKING. WALKING, and MORE WALKING. Even though we had ice cream for dessert almost every night and I drank too many cups of San Gines chocolate (and vino tinto) to count, I didn't gain any weight. Plus, I'm in much better shape than I was before we left. So, forget joining a gym! Just book a trip to Spain for three weeks!
I didn't have time to write about our adventures in Madrid while we were there since we were on the run non-stop. Here's a re-cap of our last several days there:
After dinner at Anonimatto on Thursday, Gary and I rook Richard to the hospital. He'd been running a fever on and off since Sevilla (about six days), and he wanted to get checked out before he began traveling on his own. (After our trip, he was flying to Belgium to visit several countries before meeting up with a group from SAC who will tour England, France and Italy.) I'd already made plans to meet up with the rest of my Spanish family, so I didn't stay long at the hospital. ER ("Urgencia") waiting rooms aren't any different from those in the U.S. Lots of sitting around.
When I got to my Spanish family's piso on Cea Bermudez, four of my five sisters were there: Maria, the baby; Silvia, second to the youngest and my same age; Maricarmen, third oldest; and Beatriz, the eldest. (Elena, the second to the oldest daughter, lives outside of Madrid, but we were able to see her son, Willie, who had spent the day with Pilar and Paco.) Beatriz suggested that we go to a nearby park so that the kids (Maricarmen's twin 8-year-old daughters, Willie, Carmen--Silvia's 13-year-old daughter, and Aedan) could play. I was once again impressed with Spain's dedication to creating enjoyable spaces for its citizens. Even though it was after 9 p.m., the park was full of joggers, walkers, strollers, golfers (driving range), and work-out enthusiasts (at an outdoor gym, sort of like one on Town Lake in Austin, but larger), all relishing the pleasant weather and beautiful setting. Giant fountains that shape shifted and color shifted were the park's best feature. The cool spray felt wonderful, and the girls loved dancing in the mist.
After walking around the park, we headed over to the playground so that the kids could climb and swing. It was so good to "catch up" with my sisters. They all lead busy, fulfilled lives, and I'm thrilled that we have remained friends over the past 25 years. It looks like the next generation will be friends, too. Aedan hit it off with Silvia and Samantha, the twins, so we're already planning to visit them in New Jersey and/or have them visit us in San Antonio. Aedan also enjoys being around Carmen, Silvia's daughter. I told her that she ought to come spend a summer with us to practice her English. Truthfully, I'd love for all of my Spanish family to come see us in Texas. They know that the welcome mat is always out.
We didn't say goodbye until after 11 p.m., so we didn't get to sleep until long after midnight. (Remember, transnocheras we're not.) We slept in late Friday morning and decided to skip Segovia since we'd visited there in 2004. (It's gorgeous, though, and I highly recommend that you spent at least one day there. Mother and Casey went and loved it, as did Steve. The Roman aqueduct is an amazing sight to behold.) After breakfast, Aedan, Blair and I went to the Museo Arqueologico Nacional (National Archeological Museum). It's massive, with a collection ranging from the evolution of mankind to the modern age. The Egyptian mummies, the Guarrazar treasures, the Alhambra jarrones (giant jars), and the Dama de Baza were my favorites of the collection.
After a little over two hours in the museum, Aedan and I had seen all that we wanted, so we left Blair behind. (He stayed for four and a half hours. Steve beat him, though. He visited the museum three separate occasions! Like I said, it's a massive museum with an incredible collection.)
Aedan and I walked to the Mercado de Fuencarral, a funky, Austin-like, three-story mini-mall, via Chueca, a gay neighborhood. While we were in town, Madrid was the official location of Europride, a gay/lesbian celebration, so the area was hopping. A band was rocking out in an outdoor plaza, and the drummer was wearing a hot pink lucha libre mask. He made me think of Melanie, one of my Oaxaca students, who looked for a mask for her fiancée while we were there in March. I was also reminded of Candace, another of my Palo Alto students, who won the Guitar Wars' Contest last year. I think she would have liked the band, which was heavy on the metal. I couldn't help but admire one attendee's t-shirt that read, "Make music, not missiles." I didn't find that t-shirt in the Mercado de Fuencarral, but I did find a brown one at a store named KLING that is covered in metallic gold polka dots. I don't know if I'll ever have the nerve to wear it in San Antonio, but it makes me happy just to look at it.
Aedan and I stopped to have lunch at a posh McDonald's (inlaid marble floors and high, gold-painted ceilings) on Gran Via. It was Aedan's fourth and final Happy Meal for the trip. (Not bad, since she ONLY ate at McDonald's in 2004.) She got the prince from Shrek 3 in this meal. I just ate a cheese bocadillo I had left over from breakfast and some of her french fries. We decided to go to El Corte Ingles, a high-end department store near Sol, after lunch, so I looked at a map to figure out the most direct route. We walked down Calle Montera, a street I'd never been on before, to get to Sol. Mercy! It's hooker alley. Young women dressed in short shorts, high heels, and tons of makeup were on parade. We'd already had a talk about this line of work after Dave's experience with the prostitutes in Barcelona, but hearing about it is much different than seeing it. Aedan's eyes were like saucers. (Mine were, too!) I'm sure she will have plenty to tell her fifth grade friends when she gets back to school in August. Yeesh. It made me sad.
We made it to Sol's El Corte Ingles without any incident, but we were told that all of the Spain souvenirs were now at the Callao store, not too far away. We walked over there and we found the purse that Aedan had been longing for: hot pink with MADRID written all over it in white lettering, save for one turquoise MADRID on each side. Adorable. We walked over to the Opera metro stop and made our way back to the hotel. After resting for a bit, we strolled down the street in front of the hotel, Paseo de La Florida. I wanted to buy a tube to put our posters and Aedan's caricature in, and I had seen a Chinese dollar store on my walks down to the locutorio that I wanted to visit. Success! We found a plastic tube at a papeleria (stationery store), and I found a cute pair of silk slip-on shoes (dragons and all!) at the Chinese dollar store. (It was odd to speak Spanish to someone whose native language is Chinese; however, I don't speak Chinese and she didn't speak English, so at least we were able to communicate in Spanish!) Aedan also scored a zoo of tiny stuffed animals that light up and say "I love you!" in English. We ran back to the hotel hoping that Blair would be back. (Aedan and I were out of cash.) Blair wasn't home, so we knocked on Richard's door. He spotted us the 10 Euros we needed until dinner.
Dinner was back at El Museo de Vino. I split a little jar of sangria with Steve. Oranges and lemons flavored the drink. Yum. Aedan and I went to San Gines after dinner. Several of my Palo Alto students were already there. Blair opted out. He went with Steve to a pub that serves all kinds of European beers. After San Gines, I asked the doorman at the disco Joy Eslava, which is next to San Gines, if I could walk Aedan through. I'd danced the night away there on more than one occasion 25 years ago. It's still as beautiful as ever. I went back into San Gines to tell the students to check it out. The doors opened at 11 p.m. Aedan and I headed back to our hotel. Blair wasn't far behind. They couldn't find the pub that Steve liked, but they managed to find another one that served Belgian beer.
On Saturday, Blair woke me up at 9:50 a.m.!!! My watch alarm went off at 8:30 a.m., but I turned it off. Good thing he woke up, or we would have missed breakfast. We saw Mariana and Richard at breakfast. I took off by myself to go to the Sorolla Museum and the Reina Sofia Museum. (Aedan was museumed out. She and Blair were going to lay low and perhaps hang out at a park.) From Principe Pio, I took the metro to Cuatro Caminos. While riding, I was reminded again of how Spain is a nation of newspaper readers. Almost everyone riding had a tabloid-sized paper in hand.
I was supposed to change to the turquoise line to go to the Iglesia metro stop, but I got off at Cuatro Caminos by mistake. After I walked up the 233 steps, a new record, I decided to walk the rest of the way to the museum. (I did not want to walk the 233 steps back down. My chest was still heaving. My thighs were burning, and my heartbeat was racing.) The walk from Cuatro Caminos to the museum was fairly long but totally worth it. Along the way, I saw framed prints of Botero's paintings that are now hanging in the San Antonio Museum of Art and the Southwest School of Art and Craft. I also stumbled upon an incredible jewelry store, Arte Mineral, at Santa Engracia, 88, where I purchased my fifteenth wedding anniversary present: two thin turquoise rings that "guard" my tenth wedding anniversary present, a gold rosary ring. (Blair was happy that he was off the hook.) I explained to the store's owner that I had made a mistake and gotten off at Cuatro Caminos instead of Iglesias, but I was glad that I had. He said, "No hay mal que por bien no venga." (There's no bad that good doesn't come.)
I got to the Sorolla Museum and felt right at home. The museum was one of my "haunts" during the year that I lived in Madrid, and I love being there. Sorolla was an Impressionist painter who was a contemporary of the French impressionists. Because he was Spanish and not French, he didn't receive the acclaim that they did, but I think his work is every bit as good or better. While I was walking through his home, which is where the museum is housed (a la the McNay), I came across one of my favorite paintings, "Mis Hijos". I said to the gentleman next to me, "Es como Velazquez." (It's like Velazquez.) He said, "Alguien dicen que el es mejor." (Some say that he's better than Velazquez.) Sorolla painted giant, realistic portraits, like John Singer Sargent, and he painted gorgeous beachscapes. He also painted amazing still lifes of his home's garden. He was a master of capturing light. Sorolla's home is quite beautiful, and you can tell that he made it that way to empower his painting. He was very influenced by La Alhambra's gardens, and the tiles and fountains throughout his outdoor gardens echo La Alambra's beauty. Once again, tears came to my eyes. Such beauty! Such talent! Do not miss the Sorolla Museum if you're in Madrid. It's free on Sundays. (Several of my students went, and I'm happy that they did. Mother and Casey went, too, and Mother said that it was one of the highpoints of her trip.)
From the Sorolla, I walked to the Iglesia metro stop and took the metro directly to the Atocha Renfe stop. When we were in Spain in 2004, we went by the Atocha station to pay our respects to those who had lost their lives on March 11. I wanted to stop in to do the same, and I was pleased to see that an official memorial had opened. You walk through glass doors into a room that lists all the names of those who were killed. You then walk into a bigger room that's painted royal blue, and a circle of light, almost like a theatre spotlight pointed directly down, beckons you. When you walk into the circle of light, you notice peaceful and encouraging words and phrases that are engraved onto a large, glass-like cylinder that goes up above the street. I'd seen the cylinder from the street level, but I didn't know what it was. I was glad that I made the trip inside.
When I left the station, I asked a street cleaner where the Reina Sofia Museum was. He said, "En frente de la fuente." (In front of the fountain.) That's a fun phrase to say, so I said it over and over as I walked to the museum. I visited the Reina Sofia when we were in Madrid back in 2004, but I felt rushed. It's a huge museum, and I wanted to take my time. I did, and I was blown away. First I strolled through a special exhibit, Louis Gordillo's "Tropical Iceberg". I was reminded of my brother-in-law Tobin's art. I think his work is every bit as good or better, and I wish he could get a show at the RS! I also saw a special exhibit of the artwork of the famed architect Le Corbusier. His sculpture of a woman carved out of wood reminded me of San Antonio artist Phil Evett's work.
I then traveled into yet another special exhibit, "Los Cineticos". I was blown away. Too many fantastic works to name them all. I was especially taken with work by Jose Patricio (domino floor), Rebecca Horn (motorized paint brushes that bend back and forth like a peacock), Jean Pierre Yvaral (paintings of Salvador Dali and Marilyn Monroe, all made out of either square or diamond shapes), Jesus Rafael Soto's "Penetrable" (a forest of plastic IV tubes hung from above that you walk through--an amazing sensation, sort of like walking through cool spaghetti), and Carlos Cruz-Diez's "Physichromie 22" (painted edges of cardboard in day-glo colors that were then arranged on their sides in a shallow box). It was an awe-inspiring showcase of creativity.
The second and fourth floors of the Reina Sofia hold the permanent collection. Lots of Picasso, Dali and Miro. Picasso's "Guernica" steals the show. I'm still moved each time I see the mother who is holding her dead child and crying out in anguish. I enjoyed seeing Texan Donald Judd's "Sin Titulo" (Without Title), a sculpture he did in 1992. As I was going down the elevator, I started talking to two guys from New York City. I told them not to miss "Los Cineticos," and they asked me where to go for chocolate after their museum visit. (They asked the right person! San Gines, of course.)
I had about an hour before I needed to meet our group for dinner, so I walked up Atocha toward Sol. I landed at a tavern down the street from our meeting place called La Tia Cebolla (Calle de la Cruz, 27). On the way there, I ran into a woman dressed in rainbow colored feathers and ruby red slippers. She was from Scotland, and she was with friends from Barcelona. I asked if I could take a picture of her, and her friend said that she would take a picture of me with her. Even better! We started chatting, and I found out they were in town for Europride and were headed to a huge parade.
At La Tia Cebolla, I asked for a tinto, and the waitress brought the wine and a plate of tapas (cubed cheese, sausage, and melba toast bites that were shaped like American footballs). I sat there, sipped my wine, enjoyed the tunes they were playing--a waitperson gave me a list of her favorites: Andres Calamara, Chambao, Los Delincuentes, Bebe, Kiko Veneno, Los Rodriguez, and Camaroy--and wrote in my Express-News reporter's notebook. Ah, Spain!
After dinner at El Museo de Vino (again), Blair, Aedan, Mariana and I went to a flamenco show at Casa Patas. (It started at 9 p.m., so it was perfect for us non-transnocheras; however, Mariana, la vampira, stayed out after the show, of course!) The dancers, one male and one female, were good, as were the two guitar players, the two singers, and the one cajon (percussion) player. It was a bit on the pricey side, 31 Euros, but you got up close and personal, and the price included one drink. After the show, Blair, Aedan and I headed for the hotel.
We slept in late on Sunday, and our friends Mari and Felix picked us up at the hotel at 11 a.m. The drive to their home, which is south of Madrid on the way to Toledo, only took about 30 minutes. They've lived there almost three years, and it's beautiful. It was so good to see Javier and Cristina, too. We also met Mari's mother, who's 80, for the first time. We felt like visiting royalty. Mari and Felix prepared a feast fit for kings and queens. After a stroll through Griñon and a stop at a local restaurant for a drink and some tapas (see Griñon entry), Felix bar-b-qued 11 (yes, ELEVEN!) types of meat: cordero, cinta de lomo, butifarra, pinchos morunos, hamburguesa, secreto, chorizo, morcilla, sardinas, and panceta. They also had jamon serrano, which we ate with melon. (Melon con jamon.) Delicious sweet and salty taste together. On top of all the meat, we also had tortilla española, gazpacho, a giant salad topped with all sorts of goodies, wine, beer, and an after-dinner drink called Mano de Santo (a liqueur made out of raisins). For dessert, Cristina and Mari made tiramisu with Cola Cao (sort of like Nestle's Quik or Ovaltine) instead of coffee. We thoroughly enjoyed laughing--at one point I asked Javier if he was allergic to anything. My allergies had been acting up in Madrid, and so had some of the students'. He said, "Work" without missing a beat!--and catching up and exchanging recipes with Mari, Felix, Javier and Cristina. We hope that we'll be able to return their hospitality in the very near future.
Mari, Felix and Cristina drove us back to our hotel in Madrid in time to meet our group at 6:30 p.m. Mother and Casey ran down to meet them, and I'm happy they did. We had dinner at Marciano again, but I couldn't eat a bite. I was afraid I might explode. I asked for a doggy bag. It's the first time I've had paella para llevar (paella to go). I did take all of the chicken out before packing it. I had some today, and it tasted great. After dinner, most everyone in the group went to see "Carmen" at the Teatro Reina Victoria. What a way to end our adventure! I've seen a lot of flamenco over the years, but this show topped them all. Sara Lezana choreographed Bizet's famous opera, and she even danced in the show. I don't know how old she is, but I do know this: she's still got it. Wow. What a dancer! I gave her a standing ovation after she finished, and she acknowledged my wild clapping with a nod. Truly, the show was breathtaking. The woman who played Carmen was superb. All of the guy dancers were great. The torredor, especially, was a knock out. I leaned over to Erica and whispered, "Wouldn't you like to take him home?!" She nodded yes, laughed, and passed it along to Sarah. If Arts San Antonio can bring the Royal Ballet to town, I don't see why they can't bring Ballet Flamenco de Madrid to town. I know that it would be a hit! I bought a program, and I wanted to buy a DVD. The guy selling programs said that they wouldn't be available until next week but that I could buy one then online. I'm going to.
After the show, we walked one last time through La Puerta del Sol to our final metro ride of this trip. I took a great picture of the Tio Pepe neon sign all lit up. I wish I could bottle Madrid and bring it home with us. Since I can't, we'll just have to go back. Like Mariana said in 2004, "Es como una droga!" (It's like a drug!) Spain is indeed an addiction you can't and don't want to break. I hope this blog has given Spain to you. Thanks for traveling with us!
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Griñón, Spain
Blair, Aedan and I are in Griñón today visiting friends that we made during our 2004 Madrid stay. Mari, Félix, Javier, 20, and Cristina, 14, lived in our same apartment building, but they´ve since moved to a ¨chalet¨ (home) outside of Madrid. They invited us out to see their new place and to have lunch.
We just got back from a stroll through the village. It´s precious. Very tranquil, and only a 30-minute drive from Madrid. Félix takes the train (cercania) to Madrid´s center (across from the Real Madrid Soccer Stadium) every day, and it takes him about an hour to commute one way.
We had a cerveza and a sangría in a restaurant´s outdoor patio near the town square. The tapas were unbelievable. I had mejillones (mussels) with Spain´s version of pico de gallo: tomato, onion, green bell pepper, olive oil and vinegar. TO DIE FOR!!! The bacalao (fish) was also extraordinary. Blair had lacón, a smoked ham. Now, we´re back at La Casa de Los Márquez. Mari is making lunch, and Félix is getting the grill ready to bar-b-que outside. Javier has set me up on his computer, and it´s nice not to be charged by the minute to use it!
We have been running around Madrid like crazy, and I will write about all of our adventures once we return home. It´s been a great week, and it will be difficult to say goodbye to Spain. So, we won´t. We´ll just say ¨¡Hasta la próxima!¨or ¨Until the next time!¨
We just got back from a stroll through the village. It´s precious. Very tranquil, and only a 30-minute drive from Madrid. Félix takes the train (cercania) to Madrid´s center (across from the Real Madrid Soccer Stadium) every day, and it takes him about an hour to commute one way.
We had a cerveza and a sangría in a restaurant´s outdoor patio near the town square. The tapas were unbelievable. I had mejillones (mussels) with Spain´s version of pico de gallo: tomato, onion, green bell pepper, olive oil and vinegar. TO DIE FOR!!! The bacalao (fish) was also extraordinary. Blair had lacón, a smoked ham. Now, we´re back at La Casa de Los Márquez. Mari is making lunch, and Félix is getting the grill ready to bar-b-que outside. Javier has set me up on his computer, and it´s nice not to be charged by the minute to use it!
We have been running around Madrid like crazy, and I will write about all of our adventures once we return home. It´s been a great week, and it will be difficult to say goodbye to Spain. So, we won´t. We´ll just say ¨¡Hasta la próxima!¨or ¨Until the next time!¨
Thursday, June 28, 2007
More Madrid!
After Locutorio Al Noor on Tuesday, I hoofed it back to the hotel to make it there by 6:30 p.m. for dinner. I asked Gary if we could run to see San Antonio de la Florida, the chapel whose ceilings Goya painted, before dinner. It is open until 8 p.m., and it would be the only chance to see it for those who were leaving the next morning. He gave me the go-ahead, and ten travelers followed me down the street at a pretty good clip. (First we took a picture of the entire group with Gary, like we had with Ricardo. I´m going to post it later.) The chapel was worth the sprint. It was recently restored to its original splendor, and it is glorious. In addition to the beautiful ceilings, Goya is buried there. (We can add Goya´s tomb to the others we have seen on this trip: El Cid, Christopher Columbus, Isabel and Ferdinand. Not a bad collection of bones!) We laid on the floor on our backs to get the full effect. Magnificent. His angels were my favorites, even though San Antonio, our city´s patron saint, got premium placement. (The chapel is named for him, after all.) I also think that of all the Goya paintings I´ve seen, including his most famous ones in El Prado, his painting of this chapel is my favorite. We couldn´t take photos, and they didn´t have postcards for sale, so you´ll have to take my word for it.
After our quick visit, we ran back down to the Principe Pio metro station and jumped on a metro to La Plaza de España. We had dinner at DuDua on Calle Cuesta San Vicente, number 2. Kim said, ¨Oh, oh. This restaurant doesn´t sound very promising. Doo-doo. Number two.¨ I cracked up. Potty humor. You can tell we´re tired/giddy from so much running around and lack of sleep. We were only 15 minutes late. Not bad. Dinner wasn´t bad, but it wasn´t great. Dessert was the best. Some sort of tiramisu treat. Aedan didn´t leave a speck of that on her plate. We bid farewell to the Alaska group, who was taking off the next morning at the crack of dawn, and seven of our San Antonio travelers (Sonia, Kim, Liz, Marsha, Alma, Valerie and Ish). We were sorry to see them go.
After dinner, we got back on the metro to Principe Pio. Chloe, one of the Alaskan girls, had gotten permanent tattoes above each ankle that day. One is of the Eye of Horis and the other of an Egyptian ank. I asked Chloe if she´d seen the Templo de Debod, yet, and she hadn´t. I told her that she had to since she´s so crazy about Egypt, and I think this temple is more amazing than the one at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. So, Mother, Blair, Aedan, Chloe, Carly and Monica (more Alaskan friends) hiked up to the temple. (It looked much closer on the map than it was, but it was worth it.) We took pictures of us posing like Egyptians (bent elbows), and took in the beautiful sunset. Besides viewing a 2,200 year old Egyptian temple in an outdoor park setting, you also get to view young couples making out like crazy. Splendor in the grass. My mother´s eyebrows were up to her hairline. PDAs (public displays of affection) are the norm here in Madrid, and I´m sure that Franco is spinning in his grave. I think it´s rather humorous. Or should I say amorous?!
Yesterday (Wednesday) we had breakfast in the hotel, and we got to say goodbye to our seven departing travelers. Kim said, ¨I feel like we ought to be giving you a tip envelope.¨ (We´ve given or are giving tips to Gary, our guide, and Ricardo, our driver.) That cracked me up. My ¨tip¨ is the pure enjoyment this group has had, and their appreciation for the work Mariana and I have put in to make the trip enjoyable. After breakfast, Blair, Aedan and I went to Retiro Park (sort of like New York´s Central Park) to ride the row boats. When Blair was in college at Kansas State, he was on the crew team, so he´s quite a rower. For just over 4 Euros, you can paddle for 45 minutes around El Estanque Grande (big pond) of Retiro Park. Alfonso XII´s masoleum overlooks the pond, and it´s very impressive. I took video of Aedan and Blair rowing that I´ll post later. I recommend this activity to anyone who visits Madrid. Very peaceful. (At least for the boat´s passengers!) After rowing, we walked over to El Palacio Cristal, the Crystal Palace, a gorgeous all-glass building. I loved visiting it when I lived in Madrid, and it still gives me a thrill to see it.
After Retiro, we walked over to the Thyssen to buy tickets for the Van Gogh exhibit. Mother and Casey had already seen it, and Mother said it was incredible. The show features the last two years of Van Gogh´s work, and I´m a huge fan of his art. We secured tickets for today (Thursday) at 11 a.m. (The museum only lets so many people at one time so there isn´t a crush of people all at once.) I left Aedan and Blair at the museum and took the metro to my family´s home, where I had left pralines for our friends at Suffolk. (Blair and Aedan had lunch near La Puerta del Sol without me. (Aedan grabbed a Happy Meal at McD´s...only her third for the trip!...and Blair grabbed a picnic para llevar (to go picnic) at El Museo de Jamon. For less than 2 Euros, you get a ham or cheese sandwich, an apple or an orange, and a beer or soft drink! They ate in the park near the Cathedral on the way back to our hotel.) I met Mariana, my Palo Alto colleague, and Cristina, our 2003, 2004 and 2005 Madrid study abroad coordinator, at Suffolk University at 1:30 p.m., and Cristina took us to lunch around the corner. It was a delicious lunch. Cristina explained that the owner/chef is from Cuba, and she is a great cook. No lie. I had arroz a la Cubana for my first plate (sort of like huevos rancheros, but served with sticky white rice), broiled salmon for my second plate, and melt-in-your-mouth cherries for my third plate (postre). Heaven! Cristina, whose last week at Suffolk is this week after 10 years of die-hard service, brought us up to date on her future plans and her family. We hope she travels to San Antonio in the near future! I know we are going to stay in touch with her. She´s family.
From the restaurant, I walked over to the Moncloa metro. Memories! When we lived in Madrid in 2004, our apartment was nearby, so Moncloa was our metro stop. The trip to Principe Pio was quick, and when I got back to the hotel I hit the bed for a siesta...just like a true Spaniard. When I awoke, Blair had been to the store and bought rations for a pre-dinner happy hour: papas fritas (potato chips), aceitunas (olives, with and without pits), and cerveza (Mahou, a local beer). What a nice wake up! Mother and Casey joined us for their last night in Madrid. They were going to take a night train to Portugal for a couple of days. (They´ll take a night train back to Madrid on Saturday night, so we´ll see them again on Sunday. We all leave for the States on Monday. SIGH. Can you tell we´re having a lot of fun and don´t really want to come home? I always feel that way when it´s time to leave Spain. I asked Blair if he thought he could live here some day, and he said as long as he was with me. What an answer! What a guy! I don´t know if he was pulling my leg, but it made me feel good.)
We met up with the group at 6:30 p.m. in the hotel´s lobby before grabbing another metro to Plaza de España to eat at the nearby Museo del Jamon. (Madrid boasts several locations. Blair´s lunch was from La Plaza Mayor location, and he couldn´t believe that he was having lunch and dinner at El Museo del Jamon in one day....but as Daisann McClane´s article in ¨The New York Times¨ reports, ¨In Madrid, there is no such thing as too much ham¨. Oddly enough, there was not a hint of ham at our dinner. Our first plate was pasta, our second plate was salad with tuna, boiled eggs and white asparagus, and our third plate was ice cream. (After my huge lunch and hefty happy hour, I was stuffed. Steve polished off my pasta, and I didn´t eat a bit of the salad. I did, however, eat the ice cream. Who can turn down ice cream? Not me. Especially not after climbing the 153 steps up at La Plaza de España metro stop. I counted them this time. I must be getting in better shape. I was still winded, but I wasn´t dead. I didn´t run up them like Miles did, though. I still can´t believe that. Oh, to be 18 and in shape!)
After dinner, Blair, Aedan and I strolled over to San Gines for yet another cup of chocolate. Blair and Aedan split an order of churros. I was still full so I didn´t eat any, but I made myself drink the chocolate. (Who can pass up chocolate from San Gines? Not me. Never.) When we lived here in 2004, we bought several bars (sort of like giant Hershey bars) of chocolate in El Corte Ingles´ grocery store, hoping to replicate the chocolate at San Gines. No luck. We were sorely disappointed. I asked our waiter if San Gines sold bars of chocolate. He said they sold their chocolate, but it wasn´t in bars. It´s polvo (powder). EUREKA! He said that you mix the polvo in a liter (about a quart) of milk. We snapped up four boxes (cost= 4 Euros a box), and we probably will wish we had bought more. Maybe they´ll ship it to us when we run out?
We took the metro back to the hotel from Opera, just a hop, skip and a jump away. When we got home, I spoke with Mari, our neighbor from 2004, and she invited us to lunch at their new house in the country on Sunday. We are looking forward to seeing them! We collapsed at 11:30 p.m., because we knew we had to wake up early for today´s activities.
We met at my Spanish family's home at 9 a.m. for breakfast. (We wanted to see them before our 11 a.m. entrance into the Thyssen for the Van Gogh exhibit.) It was the first time Blair and Aedan had met Maricarmen, one of my five sisters, who married a Puerto Rican-American and lives in New Jersey with her husband and twin daughters, Samantha and Silvia, who are 8. Aedan loved meeting them and getting reacquainted with Willie, another sister´s (Elena´s) son, who is the same age, 10, as Aedan. They played like they´d always known each other. I know Aedan was happy to finally be around people her own age. We had a nice breakfast, which brought back lots of memories of my year that I lived with Pilar, Paco and their daughters. The kitchen is bigger now. They rennovated it, making it wider. (They got rid of some closets to make extra space.) It´s very nice. Maria said that the rennovation was like building El Escorial, the palace outside of Madrid. It took forever. (Maria, like Pilar, cracks me up. I like the way they see things. When I told Maricarmen that my 71-year-old mother has a 72-year-old boyfriend, Pilar said, ¨Logico!¨(Logical! with a dead serious face.)
We left their piso to catch the metro over to the Thyssen Museum. We got in right away to the Van Gogh exhibit, which was small but over the top. His ¨Landscape at Twilight¨ brought tears to my eyes. It is amazingly beautiful, and I had never seen it before. It´s in the permanent collection of the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, but when my sister and I were there in 1990, we weren´t able to go. (Seems like the museum was closed at the time for some reason.) I´m so glad I got to see it and his other work now. When I turned around, what should be hanging but one of the McNay Museum of Arts´pieces (¨Women Crossing the Fields¨)!!! I ran over to it and exclaimed to the guy next to me, ¨Es de mi pueblo! San Antonio, Texas.¨ He said, with a British accent, ¨So you are American?¨ I said that I was, and that it was a thrill to see a painting that I´d ¨visited¨ many times in my hometown here at the Thyssen. We started visiting, and turns out that he lives on the Canary Islands. He knew that Canary Islanders were the founders of San Antonio, and he said that he was going to send me some information via snail mail. The reason why Joe, as he asked me to call him, has a British accent is that he was born in Gibraltar, a British colony on the tip of Africa that once belonged to Spain. Everyone who lives there is bilingual (Spanish and English...and maybe trilingual, French, or quadlingual, Arabic). He said that he´s lived on the Canary Islands for more than 40 years now. I told him that I´d like to visit there someday. We´re going to have to plan a trip to visit our friends from graduate school who live in Rabat, Morocco, by way of the Canaries, which are off the coast of Morocco, now that we´ve made all of these Canary contacts on this trip!
The entire exhibit was fenomenal (phenomenal), and I bought a poster to hang in my office at work to remind me of the ¨piel de gallina¨ (chicken skin...a.k.a. goosebumps) experience. From the special exhibit, we made our way through the Thyssen´s permanent exhibit, which isn´t shabby. In fact, it´s tremendous. I like the way the museum is set out. You begin with the museum´s medieval collection and walk your way through the ages to its modern collection. You feel like you´ve been in a time-travelling machine. Degas´ paintings of ballerinas in beautiful green costumes and polo players in brightly colored outfits are my favorite paintings in the museum´s permanent collection. We saw them in 2004, and I was happy to see them again.
After the museum, we strolled over to La Puerta del Sol to pick up three more picnics para llevar. Aedan and Blair both got bocadillos de queso (cheese sandwiches), but I got a bocadillo de jamon. (There´s no such thing as too much, remember?) We sat on the steps leading down to the Calle Felipe III in La Plaza Mayor and ate our picnic feast. After lunch, we did a little shopping in La Plaza Mayor, which is filled with souvenir shops. We picked up a ¨History of Bread¨ tile for Blair, who baked 100 loaves of the New York Times´ ¨No-Knead Bread¨ before leaving for Spain. We also picked up a few other trinkets to bring home before taking the metro back to our hotel. Blair and Aedan are hanging out in the room while I write this blog. We´re meeting up with the group at 6:30 again. After dinner, we´re going back to my Spanish family´s home to see two more sisters, Silvia and Beatriz. (It´s difficult to organize visits with so many people with different work schedules and who now live in their own homes!)
Tomorrow, we´re thinking about going to Segovia. We can grab a bus right next to our hotel that´ll get us there in an hour. Aedan doesn´t want to go, but Blair and I may overrule her. We visited there in 2004, but it was a rushed visit. We didn´t get to go inside of the Alcazar, the castle, which is stunningly beautiful. It´s obvious that we´re not going to get to do everything we want to do in the time that remains. The only solution is a return trip!
After our quick visit, we ran back down to the Principe Pio metro station and jumped on a metro to La Plaza de España. We had dinner at DuDua on Calle Cuesta San Vicente, number 2. Kim said, ¨Oh, oh. This restaurant doesn´t sound very promising. Doo-doo. Number two.¨ I cracked up. Potty humor. You can tell we´re tired/giddy from so much running around and lack of sleep. We were only 15 minutes late. Not bad. Dinner wasn´t bad, but it wasn´t great. Dessert was the best. Some sort of tiramisu treat. Aedan didn´t leave a speck of that on her plate. We bid farewell to the Alaska group, who was taking off the next morning at the crack of dawn, and seven of our San Antonio travelers (Sonia, Kim, Liz, Marsha, Alma, Valerie and Ish). We were sorry to see them go.
After dinner, we got back on the metro to Principe Pio. Chloe, one of the Alaskan girls, had gotten permanent tattoes above each ankle that day. One is of the Eye of Horis and the other of an Egyptian ank. I asked Chloe if she´d seen the Templo de Debod, yet, and she hadn´t. I told her that she had to since she´s so crazy about Egypt, and I think this temple is more amazing than the one at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. So, Mother, Blair, Aedan, Chloe, Carly and Monica (more Alaskan friends) hiked up to the temple. (It looked much closer on the map than it was, but it was worth it.) We took pictures of us posing like Egyptians (bent elbows), and took in the beautiful sunset. Besides viewing a 2,200 year old Egyptian temple in an outdoor park setting, you also get to view young couples making out like crazy. Splendor in the grass. My mother´s eyebrows were up to her hairline. PDAs (public displays of affection) are the norm here in Madrid, and I´m sure that Franco is spinning in his grave. I think it´s rather humorous. Or should I say amorous?!
Yesterday (Wednesday) we had breakfast in the hotel, and we got to say goodbye to our seven departing travelers. Kim said, ¨I feel like we ought to be giving you a tip envelope.¨ (We´ve given or are giving tips to Gary, our guide, and Ricardo, our driver.) That cracked me up. My ¨tip¨ is the pure enjoyment this group has had, and their appreciation for the work Mariana and I have put in to make the trip enjoyable. After breakfast, Blair, Aedan and I went to Retiro Park (sort of like New York´s Central Park) to ride the row boats. When Blair was in college at Kansas State, he was on the crew team, so he´s quite a rower. For just over 4 Euros, you can paddle for 45 minutes around El Estanque Grande (big pond) of Retiro Park. Alfonso XII´s masoleum overlooks the pond, and it´s very impressive. I took video of Aedan and Blair rowing that I´ll post later. I recommend this activity to anyone who visits Madrid. Very peaceful. (At least for the boat´s passengers!) After rowing, we walked over to El Palacio Cristal, the Crystal Palace, a gorgeous all-glass building. I loved visiting it when I lived in Madrid, and it still gives me a thrill to see it.
After Retiro, we walked over to the Thyssen to buy tickets for the Van Gogh exhibit. Mother and Casey had already seen it, and Mother said it was incredible. The show features the last two years of Van Gogh´s work, and I´m a huge fan of his art. We secured tickets for today (Thursday) at 11 a.m. (The museum only lets so many people at one time so there isn´t a crush of people all at once.) I left Aedan and Blair at the museum and took the metro to my family´s home, where I had left pralines for our friends at Suffolk. (Blair and Aedan had lunch near La Puerta del Sol without me. (Aedan grabbed a Happy Meal at McD´s...only her third for the trip!...and Blair grabbed a picnic para llevar (to go picnic) at El Museo de Jamon. For less than 2 Euros, you get a ham or cheese sandwich, an apple or an orange, and a beer or soft drink! They ate in the park near the Cathedral on the way back to our hotel.) I met Mariana, my Palo Alto colleague, and Cristina, our 2003, 2004 and 2005 Madrid study abroad coordinator, at Suffolk University at 1:30 p.m., and Cristina took us to lunch around the corner. It was a delicious lunch. Cristina explained that the owner/chef is from Cuba, and she is a great cook. No lie. I had arroz a la Cubana for my first plate (sort of like huevos rancheros, but served with sticky white rice), broiled salmon for my second plate, and melt-in-your-mouth cherries for my third plate (postre). Heaven! Cristina, whose last week at Suffolk is this week after 10 years of die-hard service, brought us up to date on her future plans and her family. We hope she travels to San Antonio in the near future! I know we are going to stay in touch with her. She´s family.
From the restaurant, I walked over to the Moncloa metro. Memories! When we lived in Madrid in 2004, our apartment was nearby, so Moncloa was our metro stop. The trip to Principe Pio was quick, and when I got back to the hotel I hit the bed for a siesta...just like a true Spaniard. When I awoke, Blair had been to the store and bought rations for a pre-dinner happy hour: papas fritas (potato chips), aceitunas (olives, with and without pits), and cerveza (Mahou, a local beer). What a nice wake up! Mother and Casey joined us for their last night in Madrid. They were going to take a night train to Portugal for a couple of days. (They´ll take a night train back to Madrid on Saturday night, so we´ll see them again on Sunday. We all leave for the States on Monday. SIGH. Can you tell we´re having a lot of fun and don´t really want to come home? I always feel that way when it´s time to leave Spain. I asked Blair if he thought he could live here some day, and he said as long as he was with me. What an answer! What a guy! I don´t know if he was pulling my leg, but it made me feel good.)
We met up with the group at 6:30 p.m. in the hotel´s lobby before grabbing another metro to Plaza de España to eat at the nearby Museo del Jamon. (Madrid boasts several locations. Blair´s lunch was from La Plaza Mayor location, and he couldn´t believe that he was having lunch and dinner at El Museo del Jamon in one day....but as Daisann McClane´s article in ¨The New York Times¨ reports, ¨In Madrid, there is no such thing as too much ham¨. Oddly enough, there was not a hint of ham at our dinner. Our first plate was pasta, our second plate was salad with tuna, boiled eggs and white asparagus, and our third plate was ice cream. (After my huge lunch and hefty happy hour, I was stuffed. Steve polished off my pasta, and I didn´t eat a bit of the salad. I did, however, eat the ice cream. Who can turn down ice cream? Not me. Especially not after climbing the 153 steps up at La Plaza de España metro stop. I counted them this time. I must be getting in better shape. I was still winded, but I wasn´t dead. I didn´t run up them like Miles did, though. I still can´t believe that. Oh, to be 18 and in shape!)
After dinner, Blair, Aedan and I strolled over to San Gines for yet another cup of chocolate. Blair and Aedan split an order of churros. I was still full so I didn´t eat any, but I made myself drink the chocolate. (Who can pass up chocolate from San Gines? Not me. Never.) When we lived here in 2004, we bought several bars (sort of like giant Hershey bars) of chocolate in El Corte Ingles´ grocery store, hoping to replicate the chocolate at San Gines. No luck. We were sorely disappointed. I asked our waiter if San Gines sold bars of chocolate. He said they sold their chocolate, but it wasn´t in bars. It´s polvo (powder). EUREKA! He said that you mix the polvo in a liter (about a quart) of milk. We snapped up four boxes (cost= 4 Euros a box), and we probably will wish we had bought more. Maybe they´ll ship it to us when we run out?
We took the metro back to the hotel from Opera, just a hop, skip and a jump away. When we got home, I spoke with Mari, our neighbor from 2004, and she invited us to lunch at their new house in the country on Sunday. We are looking forward to seeing them! We collapsed at 11:30 p.m., because we knew we had to wake up early for today´s activities.
We met at my Spanish family's home at 9 a.m. for breakfast. (We wanted to see them before our 11 a.m. entrance into the Thyssen for the Van Gogh exhibit.) It was the first time Blair and Aedan had met Maricarmen, one of my five sisters, who married a Puerto Rican-American and lives in New Jersey with her husband and twin daughters, Samantha and Silvia, who are 8. Aedan loved meeting them and getting reacquainted with Willie, another sister´s (Elena´s) son, who is the same age, 10, as Aedan. They played like they´d always known each other. I know Aedan was happy to finally be around people her own age. We had a nice breakfast, which brought back lots of memories of my year that I lived with Pilar, Paco and their daughters. The kitchen is bigger now. They rennovated it, making it wider. (They got rid of some closets to make extra space.) It´s very nice. Maria said that the rennovation was like building El Escorial, the palace outside of Madrid. It took forever. (Maria, like Pilar, cracks me up. I like the way they see things. When I told Maricarmen that my 71-year-old mother has a 72-year-old boyfriend, Pilar said, ¨Logico!¨(Logical! with a dead serious face.)
We left their piso to catch the metro over to the Thyssen Museum. We got in right away to the Van Gogh exhibit, which was small but over the top. His ¨Landscape at Twilight¨ brought tears to my eyes. It is amazingly beautiful, and I had never seen it before. It´s in the permanent collection of the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, but when my sister and I were there in 1990, we weren´t able to go. (Seems like the museum was closed at the time for some reason.) I´m so glad I got to see it and his other work now. When I turned around, what should be hanging but one of the McNay Museum of Arts´pieces (¨Women Crossing the Fields¨)!!! I ran over to it and exclaimed to the guy next to me, ¨Es de mi pueblo! San Antonio, Texas.¨ He said, with a British accent, ¨So you are American?¨ I said that I was, and that it was a thrill to see a painting that I´d ¨visited¨ many times in my hometown here at the Thyssen. We started visiting, and turns out that he lives on the Canary Islands. He knew that Canary Islanders were the founders of San Antonio, and he said that he was going to send me some information via snail mail. The reason why Joe, as he asked me to call him, has a British accent is that he was born in Gibraltar, a British colony on the tip of Africa that once belonged to Spain. Everyone who lives there is bilingual (Spanish and English...and maybe trilingual, French, or quadlingual, Arabic). He said that he´s lived on the Canary Islands for more than 40 years now. I told him that I´d like to visit there someday. We´re going to have to plan a trip to visit our friends from graduate school who live in Rabat, Morocco, by way of the Canaries, which are off the coast of Morocco, now that we´ve made all of these Canary contacts on this trip!
The entire exhibit was fenomenal (phenomenal), and I bought a poster to hang in my office at work to remind me of the ¨piel de gallina¨ (chicken skin...a.k.a. goosebumps) experience. From the special exhibit, we made our way through the Thyssen´s permanent exhibit, which isn´t shabby. In fact, it´s tremendous. I like the way the museum is set out. You begin with the museum´s medieval collection and walk your way through the ages to its modern collection. You feel like you´ve been in a time-travelling machine. Degas´ paintings of ballerinas in beautiful green costumes and polo players in brightly colored outfits are my favorite paintings in the museum´s permanent collection. We saw them in 2004, and I was happy to see them again.
After the museum, we strolled over to La Puerta del Sol to pick up three more picnics para llevar. Aedan and Blair both got bocadillos de queso (cheese sandwiches), but I got a bocadillo de jamon. (There´s no such thing as too much, remember?) We sat on the steps leading down to the Calle Felipe III in La Plaza Mayor and ate our picnic feast. After lunch, we did a little shopping in La Plaza Mayor, which is filled with souvenir shops. We picked up a ¨History of Bread¨ tile for Blair, who baked 100 loaves of the New York Times´ ¨No-Knead Bread¨ before leaving for Spain. We also picked up a few other trinkets to bring home before taking the metro back to our hotel. Blair and Aedan are hanging out in the room while I write this blog. We´re meeting up with the group at 6:30 again. After dinner, we´re going back to my Spanish family´s home to see two more sisters, Silvia and Beatriz. (It´s difficult to organize visits with so many people with different work schedules and who now live in their own homes!)
Tomorrow, we´re thinking about going to Segovia. We can grab a bus right next to our hotel that´ll get us there in an hour. Aedan doesn´t want to go, but Blair and I may overrule her. We visited there in 2004, but it was a rushed visit. We didn´t get to go inside of the Alcazar, the castle, which is stunningly beautiful. It´s obvious that we´re not going to get to do everything we want to do in the time that remains. The only solution is a return trip!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Madrid, Spain
We´re back in Madrid, and it feels good to be ¨home¨! Our trip from Sevilla via Cordoba and Puerto Lapice was a long day, but it was a beautiful ride. Spain is such a gorgeous country: rolling hills--some planted, some harvested--that look like quilt designs; blue skies, white-washed homes with terracotta roofs, stereotypical windmills that juxtapose nicely with the new ¨windtricity¨ windmills, olive groves, and on and on.
When we got to Cordoba, we had some free time before our tour of La Mezquita. Mother, Casey, Blair, Aedan, Kim and I wound our way through narrow, cobblestone streets to a place my ¨Let´s Go Spain and Portugal¨ guidebook recommended. (Casey said that he hoped someone was dropping breadcrumbs so we could find our way back.) The Casa Andalusi is a 12th-century Arabesque home and courtyard that has been beautifully restored. The flower-filled fountain alone was worth the price of admission, 2.5 Euros. Very soothing environment. Educational, too. The home features a mini museum of paper-making, which was big in Cordoba back in the day. The words written on the handmade paper helped to educate and inform the masses.
La Mezquita was as stunning as I remembered from my trip in the spring of 1982. Like La Alhambra, it´s a blessing that the Catholic kings didn´t raze the building after Cordoba was conquered, because the Moors had razed a Visigoth basilica on that very site when they took over Cordoba. La Mezquita is now a Gothic cathedral built around the original mosque, which was the largest mosque in the Islamic world at that time (eighth century). The 850 columns made out of granite and marble feature red- and white-striped arches. It´s a wonder to walk through them. A home in San Antonio´s King William neighborhood sports these same arches, and I´m always reminded of La Mezquita when I see it.
From Cordoba, we watched the end of ¨El Cid¨ with Charlton Heston and Sofia Loren. (We´d watched the first half on our way to Sevilla.) Long, but good. I´d like to watch it again. The tiny screen on the bus didn´t do the film justice. We then stopped in Puerto Lapice, one of Don Quixote´s hangouts. It´s a pretty sleepy little town filled with tourist traps. I stopped to ask some local men who were hanging out in the town square where the molinos del aire (windmills) were, and they told Mother, Blair, Aedan and I to keep walking through the town and turn left. When we got there, we found Steve. Richard wasn´t far behind us. We all posed for pictures, our only souvenir from P.L.
The ride from P.L. to Madrid wasn´t long. As we entered Madrid, we traveled via an underground tunnel that was recently completed. It was extremely long. I asked Ricardo, our bus driver, how long he thought it was, and he said eight or more kilometers. When we exited the tunnel, we were very close to our hotel, Celuisma Florida Norte, which is in a super location, just across from the old North Train Station (Estacion del Norte) that is now a mall. The view of the Cathedral is stunning from the hotel. We dropped our bags in our rooms, ran back downstairs to take a picture with Ricardo, and give him his much-deserved tip (propina). We found out on the last day that he´s got two children, a male, 16, and a female, 11. I don´t know how they cope with him being on the road for so long, but he said they´re going to the Canary Islands for a vacation as soon as he returns.
We had dinner near La Puerta del Sol in a restaurant called, Taberna Marciano (the martian tavern). The food was excellent: paella, tortilla española, sangria and neopolitan ice cream. What´s not to like about that? After dinner, Kim, Casey, Mother, Miles (an Alaskan friend), Aedan and I walked over to Chocolateria San Gines for some chocolate con churros. The link I posted calls the chocolate there mythical, and they are not mistaken. It was Kim´s first visit to San Gines, and I told her that this chocolate will be something she dreams about when she´s back in San Antonio.
We walked over to La Plaza Mayor, a stone´s throw away from San Gines, after we were fortified with chocolate. The weather is absolutely lovely right now in Madrid. Coolish and no mosquitoes. Mariana, the transnochera (trans equals across or through and nochera equals night) stayed behind, but the rest of us walked back to our hotel via La Calle Mayor, past the Cathedral, down through a park until we hit the river. We then took a right to Principe Pio, the hotel´s location. Aedan talked non-stop to Miles the whole way back to the hotel. Maybe a heaping serving of dark chocolate at 9 p.m. wasn´t the best idea? She was wound up. Miles was charming, though, and listened to every one of her stories. (BTW, Miles is a trick skier. When we walked up endless steps---and I do mean endless---to the top of our metro stop, he ran up. I was nearly dead when I got to the top, and he hadn´t even broken a sweat.)
Today´s been a lazy day. No early wake-up call. We just took it easy. Aedan has been enjoying Japanese anime (cartoons) on television that are voiced over in Spanish. Blair´s learning how to play castanets. The Centro Comercial Principe Pio across from the hotel is beautiful. Lots of interesting shops and a big food court. We had lunch and then strolled through the mall. We bought some colorful socks that were made in Turkey for Aedan at H&M, a cool department store that I wish we had in the U.S. It carries stylish things that are reasonably priced. Aedan and Blair went back to the hotel so that I could blog at this Internet center down the street from our hotel. It´s a very clean place of business, and it only costs 1 Euro an hour to get online, the least expensive price I´ve been charged so far on this adventure. The name of the business is Al Noor Locutorio, and it´s on Vallodolid, 9. The guy at the desk is Muslim, and he´s playing Arabic music that at times sounds like prayers. Maybe they are? The only creepy thing is that there´s a videocamera pointed at me as I write this blog, and every once in awhile it flashes, like it´s taking a picture of me. After a couple of flashes, I turned the camera to the back wall. Too Big Brothery for me.
Tomorrow, Mariana and I are going to meet with our friends at Suffolk University´s Madrid campus at 1:30 p.m. (We hosted Palo Alto´s Spain Study Abroad program there in 2003, 2004 and 2005. It will be great to see everyone.) After today, we only have five days left in Spain, and we have LOTS of ground to cover. Stay with us!
When we got to Cordoba, we had some free time before our tour of La Mezquita. Mother, Casey, Blair, Aedan, Kim and I wound our way through narrow, cobblestone streets to a place my ¨Let´s Go Spain and Portugal¨ guidebook recommended. (Casey said that he hoped someone was dropping breadcrumbs so we could find our way back.) The Casa Andalusi is a 12th-century Arabesque home and courtyard that has been beautifully restored. The flower-filled fountain alone was worth the price of admission, 2.5 Euros. Very soothing environment. Educational, too. The home features a mini museum of paper-making, which was big in Cordoba back in the day. The words written on the handmade paper helped to educate and inform the masses.
La Mezquita was as stunning as I remembered from my trip in the spring of 1982. Like La Alhambra, it´s a blessing that the Catholic kings didn´t raze the building after Cordoba was conquered, because the Moors had razed a Visigoth basilica on that very site when they took over Cordoba. La Mezquita is now a Gothic cathedral built around the original mosque, which was the largest mosque in the Islamic world at that time (eighth century). The 850 columns made out of granite and marble feature red- and white-striped arches. It´s a wonder to walk through them. A home in San Antonio´s King William neighborhood sports these same arches, and I´m always reminded of La Mezquita when I see it.
From Cordoba, we watched the end of ¨El Cid¨ with Charlton Heston and Sofia Loren. (We´d watched the first half on our way to Sevilla.) Long, but good. I´d like to watch it again. The tiny screen on the bus didn´t do the film justice. We then stopped in Puerto Lapice, one of Don Quixote´s hangouts. It´s a pretty sleepy little town filled with tourist traps. I stopped to ask some local men who were hanging out in the town square where the molinos del aire (windmills) were, and they told Mother, Blair, Aedan and I to keep walking through the town and turn left. When we got there, we found Steve. Richard wasn´t far behind us. We all posed for pictures, our only souvenir from P.L.
The ride from P.L. to Madrid wasn´t long. As we entered Madrid, we traveled via an underground tunnel that was recently completed. It was extremely long. I asked Ricardo, our bus driver, how long he thought it was, and he said eight or more kilometers. When we exited the tunnel, we were very close to our hotel, Celuisma Florida Norte, which is in a super location, just across from the old North Train Station (Estacion del Norte) that is now a mall. The view of the Cathedral is stunning from the hotel. We dropped our bags in our rooms, ran back downstairs to take a picture with Ricardo, and give him his much-deserved tip (propina). We found out on the last day that he´s got two children, a male, 16, and a female, 11. I don´t know how they cope with him being on the road for so long, but he said they´re going to the Canary Islands for a vacation as soon as he returns.
We had dinner near La Puerta del Sol in a restaurant called, Taberna Marciano (the martian tavern). The food was excellent: paella, tortilla española, sangria and neopolitan ice cream. What´s not to like about that? After dinner, Kim, Casey, Mother, Miles (an Alaskan friend), Aedan and I walked over to Chocolateria San Gines for some chocolate con churros. The link I posted calls the chocolate there mythical, and they are not mistaken. It was Kim´s first visit to San Gines, and I told her that this chocolate will be something she dreams about when she´s back in San Antonio.
We walked over to La Plaza Mayor, a stone´s throw away from San Gines, after we were fortified with chocolate. The weather is absolutely lovely right now in Madrid. Coolish and no mosquitoes. Mariana, the transnochera (trans equals across or through and nochera equals night) stayed behind, but the rest of us walked back to our hotel via La Calle Mayor, past the Cathedral, down through a park until we hit the river. We then took a right to Principe Pio, the hotel´s location. Aedan talked non-stop to Miles the whole way back to the hotel. Maybe a heaping serving of dark chocolate at 9 p.m. wasn´t the best idea? She was wound up. Miles was charming, though, and listened to every one of her stories. (BTW, Miles is a trick skier. When we walked up endless steps---and I do mean endless---to the top of our metro stop, he ran up. I was nearly dead when I got to the top, and he hadn´t even broken a sweat.)
Today´s been a lazy day. No early wake-up call. We just took it easy. Aedan has been enjoying Japanese anime (cartoons) on television that are voiced over in Spanish. Blair´s learning how to play castanets. The Centro Comercial Principe Pio across from the hotel is beautiful. Lots of interesting shops and a big food court. We had lunch and then strolled through the mall. We bought some colorful socks that were made in Turkey for Aedan at H&M, a cool department store that I wish we had in the U.S. It carries stylish things that are reasonably priced. Aedan and Blair went back to the hotel so that I could blog at this Internet center down the street from our hotel. It´s a very clean place of business, and it only costs 1 Euro an hour to get online, the least expensive price I´ve been charged so far on this adventure. The name of the business is Al Noor Locutorio, and it´s on Vallodolid, 9. The guy at the desk is Muslim, and he´s playing Arabic music that at times sounds like prayers. Maybe they are? The only creepy thing is that there´s a videocamera pointed at me as I write this blog, and every once in awhile it flashes, like it´s taking a picture of me. After a couple of flashes, I turned the camera to the back wall. Too Big Brothery for me.
Tomorrow, Mariana and I are going to meet with our friends at Suffolk University´s Madrid campus at 1:30 p.m. (We hosted Palo Alto´s Spain Study Abroad program there in 2003, 2004 and 2005. It will be great to see everyone.) After today, we only have five days left in Spain, and we have LOTS of ground to cover. Stay with us!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Sevilla, Spain
When I walked into the Seville Internet Center, the Rolling Stones´ ¨Satisfaction¨ was playing. I knew my brother-in-law, Tobin, would have felt right at home. The guy who let me into the ¨gated¨ second-story site across from the Cathedral is from Michigan, and he´s lived in Sevilla for 31 years. I told him that I didn´t blame him. ¨But when it gets this hot...¨ he said, shaking his head. ¨I´m from Michigan.¨ I told him that I was from Texas, and that this temperature was normal, which sounds so much better in Spanish than in English. (Same word, different pronunciation.)
We were in Torremolinos yesterday until 12:30 p.m., which gave me plenty of time to walk down the coast to take a photo of a really cool pinwheel sculpture that I saw when we rode into the city. (Blair and Aedan decided to stay close to the hotel.) I think Corpus Christi, which is supposedly the windiest city in the U.S., should have pinwheel sculpture, too. I´ll post pictures later. I took some from every angle.)
Carly Simon is playing now. The gentleman may have left Michigan, but he didn´t leave his music behind. (I´m glad, because I really like Carly Simon. James Taylor, too. I´m still sad they broke up. I´m dating myself!)
On the way back from the pinwheel sculpture, I dashed into Super Sol, a grocery store, to look around. Spanish grocery stores fascinate me. They carry products we don´t have in the States. (Maybe at Central Market, but not the same variety.) I saw a bottle of vino tinto for 1.5 Euros. I was reminded of the year I lived in Spain and you could buy a decent bottle of red wine for 50 pesetas...about 50 cents. I strolled through the store some more, and I came across a litre of vino tinto in a box for .62 Euros or 86 cents. SCORE! I haven´t tried it yet, but if it´s drinkable, I´ll pick up more when we get to Madrid.
From the grocery store, I walked into a Chinese dollar store named Bazar Jin Bao (Ave. Manuel Mena Palma) that had everything under the sun: clothes, tools, art, plasticware, and porno films. Quite the range. I picked up some trinkets for Aedan and spent a whopping 2 Euros.
On the ride to Sevilla, Mariana and I taught our classes. We´ve almost covered all of the material in our classroom with wheels. I´m getting used to kneeling backwards on my seat facing our students, who sit in the front of the bus. So far, car sickness (bus sickness?) has not been a problem. I have a lot of faith in our driver, Ricardo, because I´m not buckled in, and I am a seat belt fanatic. Ricardo is an extremely competent, conservative driver. No hotrodding with him, thank goodness. After our drive to Madrid tomorrow, we´ll bid Ricardo a fond farewell. Emphasis on fond. He´s been great.
¨Sugar, Sugar¨ is playing now. ¨Oh, honey, honey...¨
Our lodging in Sevilla, Hotel Zenit, in the Triana neighborhood near La Iglesia San Jacinto, is lovely. It´s on the Calle Pages del Corro, number 90. Very mudejar (European/Moorish mix). Great location. I found a cute tile magnet with Sevilla´s Triana bridge to bring back to Mr. Triana, Palo Alto´s director of Facilities Management. I think he´ll like it. So many of the names of San Antonio´s citizens are on every street sign, bridge, and building here. La sangre (the blood) of Spain runs deep in our neck of the woods.
After we dropped our stuff in our rooms and freshened up a bit, Gary took us on a walking tour of Sevilla. It was hotter than Hades. Blair said that this part of the trip was to get us acclimated to San Antonio´s weather. We walked by the Torre de Oro (Tower of Gold), a Muslim defense tower, that the Spaniards used to store riches from the New World. After the group broke up, I walked into the Tourist Information Office for a list of all of the tabernas in Sevilla. (Tabernas are where locals hang out and dance Sevillanas, a form of flamenco.) From there, Blair, Steve, Aedan and I strolled around, looking for a McDonald´s to buy an inexpensive (1 Euro/$1.40) ice cream. No luck. I said, ¨Why don´t we walk in the shade?¨ One of the buildings was casting a narrow strip of shade (sombra). Steve said, ¨Ah, shade. What a great invention!¨ I must agree.
Another invention I recommend: an Irish pub. We found one called ¨Trinity¨ that is part of El Hotel de Inglaterra (Hotel of England) that boasts an altar to James Joyce in its window. (I´m still trying to convince a book club that I belong to that we need to read ¨Ulysses,¨ but I haven´t been successful so far.) The comfy seats, ice cold AC, salty peanuts and a Guinness draft were just what the doctor ordered. (Aedan had a big bottle of water. Even though she´s got an Irish moniker, she´s a wee bit young to be drinking Guinness.)
Dinner at the hotel was served at 8 p.m. Mariana and I stayed afterwards to grade all of the blogs. We stopped at 10:30 p.m. to freshen up so that we could go to a taberna, Anselmo, that Mariana had visited two years ago. Lucky for us, it´s on the same street as our hotel. Kim met us in the lobby at 10:45 p.m., and we were off. (Blair and Aedan decided to turn in. Blair said that he was going to have a t-shirt printed for me that reads TRANSNOCHERA IN TRAINING. Mariana is a transnochera...someone who can stay up all night. I´m not. I´m a need-my-sleep-nochera. However, when in Sevilla, the birthplace of flamenco, one must rise to the occasion.
We got to the taberna at 11 p.m., but it was locked up tight. We asked at a bar up the street, Las Golondrinas, what time Anselmo opened, and the bartender said, ¨Doce¨ (Twelve). I said, ¨Hijo!¨ (Son! But the translation is more like ¨Brother!¨ in English. It´s really more of a Mexican expression than a Spanish expression, but it fit the occasion.) This transnochera training is not for the faint of heart. We asked for unos tintos to pass the time. By 11:30 p.m., a line was beginning to form. (I told Mariana about a joke I´d heard earlier in the day. A woman was in line (cola), and a gentleman tapped her on the shoulder and asked, ¨Is this the line (cola)?¨And she responded, ¨No. Mas abajo.¨ (Cola also means bottom in Spanish.)
At midnight on the dot, a woman with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, dressed in orange from head to toe, appeared. She had the keys, so it was obvious that she was la dueña, the owner. She shouted, ¨Somos los mejores! Somos los mejores!¨ (We are the best! We are the best!) Sevilla´s soccer team had just won an important match, the Copa del Rey (King´s Cup) that features the country´s top 10 teams, in Madrid. (Their teams are usually trounced by Madrid´s team and/or Barcelona´s team, so it was a big night for them.) Without warning, loud, gunfire-like sounds ricocheted off of the pavement. Mariana gasped, said ¨Oh my God!¨ and ducked behind me. Since I´d spent time in Guatemala, where they launch fireworks (bombas) for every saint´s feast day....and every day is a saint´s feast day...I didn´t blink an eye. Besides, if I can survive tear gas in Oaxaca (read June 14´s entry), I can survive gunfire in Sevilla.) Meanwhile, the woman in orange was holding forth about her team´s victory. I´d really like to know what makes Spaniards´ voices so deep and inviting. My theory is that years of smoking and late nights have given Spaniards the sexiest voices on the planet. Seriously. I´d buy a CD of Spaniards talking. Maybe if I take this Transnochera training seriously, I, too, could have a voice to die for?
I started to feel like we were at Studio 54. The lady in orange, who even had an orange heart-shaped barrette in her pulled-back, jet black hair, started pointing at people to let them in. She mentioned something about reservations. Someone asked her how you got reservations if the place was just now opening. She blew them off and pointed at some others to go in. (Turns out, the chosen ones were the musicians and dancers.) Finally, at about 12:20 p.m., the rest of us were allowed in. There was a mad dash through a narrow door to get a seat. Mariana and I scored two and saved one for Kim, who was hung up in a bottleneck, which made me think of the Pamplona bottleneck Gary talked about. I was happy there weren´t any angry bulls chasing her.
After Kim sat down, Mariana got up to get us drinks at the bar. It was a good thing. After the guitarrists started playing, the lady in orange came over to ask us what we wanted to drink. ¨Tiene que pedir una copa.¨ (You have to order a drink.) I held up my now empty wine glass, and she moved over to the German college students sitting next to me. They ignored her. She wasn´t deterred. She went back to the bar and came back with a pad of paper and a pen. The message was clear: ¨Order or get out. Thirsty customers would like your seat.¨ Even though we had ¨rented¨ our seat for a glass of wine, we were ready to leave. We´d listened to three songs, but not a single person danced. We agreed if there was no dancing on the next song, we would leave. There wasn´t, so we did. Trying to make the best of my transnochera experience, I stayed up grading blogs until after 2...and I´ve paid for it all day today. I´m just not cut out for late nights. Luckily, an infusion of coffee this afternoon saved me from hitting the pavement.
Today, we´ve been running around Sevilla without pause. (It feels good to sit down and write this blog in an air-conditioned oasis.) We got up at 7, ate breakfast at 8, and were on the road by 8:45. The sites we´ve seen include El Torre de Oro, the Alcazar (oldest European palace that was built by the Moors in the seventh century and added onto by the King of Spain, Pedro, in the fifteenth century. Supposedly, this is the place Ferdinand and Isabel received Columbus upon his return from the New World. I thought the Alcazar would pale in comparison to La Alhambra, but I must say that it held its own.), the 1929 World´s Fair area (features buildings from a plethora of countries, including the U.S.), the Plaza de España that tells the story of Spain through tile, the Jewish Quarter, the Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestranza (bullring and bullfighting school...the best in the world), El Museo de Bellas Artes where we saw a beautiful exposition of paintings that feature water (also, local artists gather with their work in a park outside of the museum, which reminded me of Paris´Montmartre artists), and the Cathedral (third largest church in the world behind St. Peter´s in Rome and St. Paul´s in London...it is a Gothic masterpiece).
In the Cathedral, Blair, Aedan, Mother, Casey and I climbed the 35 ramps to the top of La Giralda, a Moorish minaret (tower) that is the symbol of Sevilla. It was built in 1198, and you are able to take in a stunning view of the entire city from the top. (It reminded me of the views from the top of the Empire State Building in New York City and Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. It also reminded me of Richard Serra´s sculptures at the Guggenheim in Bilbao. All that turning (girando) made me dizzy, much like Serra´s sculptures made me dizzy.) When we got back down, we went to see the tomb of Christopher Columbus. What a guy! Who would I have been without him? Certainly not an Spanish-French-Irish-English-German-American citizen of San Antonio, Texas, by way of Liberty, Texas, my hometown.
Tomorrow, we leave for Madrid via Cordoba and Puerto Lapice. I have a feeling that I´ll be returning to Sevilla. I hope it doesn´t take me another 25 years to make it back.
We were in Torremolinos yesterday until 12:30 p.m., which gave me plenty of time to walk down the coast to take a photo of a really cool pinwheel sculpture that I saw when we rode into the city. (Blair and Aedan decided to stay close to the hotel.) I think Corpus Christi, which is supposedly the windiest city in the U.S., should have pinwheel sculpture, too. I´ll post pictures later. I took some from every angle.)
Carly Simon is playing now. The gentleman may have left Michigan, but he didn´t leave his music behind. (I´m glad, because I really like Carly Simon. James Taylor, too. I´m still sad they broke up. I´m dating myself!)
On the way back from the pinwheel sculpture, I dashed into Super Sol, a grocery store, to look around. Spanish grocery stores fascinate me. They carry products we don´t have in the States. (Maybe at Central Market, but not the same variety.) I saw a bottle of vino tinto for 1.5 Euros. I was reminded of the year I lived in Spain and you could buy a decent bottle of red wine for 50 pesetas...about 50 cents. I strolled through the store some more, and I came across a litre of vino tinto in a box for .62 Euros or 86 cents. SCORE! I haven´t tried it yet, but if it´s drinkable, I´ll pick up more when we get to Madrid.
From the grocery store, I walked into a Chinese dollar store named Bazar Jin Bao (Ave. Manuel Mena Palma) that had everything under the sun: clothes, tools, art, plasticware, and porno films. Quite the range. I picked up some trinkets for Aedan and spent a whopping 2 Euros.
On the ride to Sevilla, Mariana and I taught our classes. We´ve almost covered all of the material in our classroom with wheels. I´m getting used to kneeling backwards on my seat facing our students, who sit in the front of the bus. So far, car sickness (bus sickness?) has not been a problem. I have a lot of faith in our driver, Ricardo, because I´m not buckled in, and I am a seat belt fanatic. Ricardo is an extremely competent, conservative driver. No hotrodding with him, thank goodness. After our drive to Madrid tomorrow, we´ll bid Ricardo a fond farewell. Emphasis on fond. He´s been great.
¨Sugar, Sugar¨ is playing now. ¨Oh, honey, honey...¨
Our lodging in Sevilla, Hotel Zenit, in the Triana neighborhood near La Iglesia San Jacinto, is lovely. It´s on the Calle Pages del Corro, number 90. Very mudejar (European/Moorish mix). Great location. I found a cute tile magnet with Sevilla´s Triana bridge to bring back to Mr. Triana, Palo Alto´s director of Facilities Management. I think he´ll like it. So many of the names of San Antonio´s citizens are on every street sign, bridge, and building here. La sangre (the blood) of Spain runs deep in our neck of the woods.
After we dropped our stuff in our rooms and freshened up a bit, Gary took us on a walking tour of Sevilla. It was hotter than Hades. Blair said that this part of the trip was to get us acclimated to San Antonio´s weather. We walked by the Torre de Oro (Tower of Gold), a Muslim defense tower, that the Spaniards used to store riches from the New World. After the group broke up, I walked into the Tourist Information Office for a list of all of the tabernas in Sevilla. (Tabernas are where locals hang out and dance Sevillanas, a form of flamenco.) From there, Blair, Steve, Aedan and I strolled around, looking for a McDonald´s to buy an inexpensive (1 Euro/$1.40) ice cream. No luck. I said, ¨Why don´t we walk in the shade?¨ One of the buildings was casting a narrow strip of shade (sombra). Steve said, ¨Ah, shade. What a great invention!¨ I must agree.
Another invention I recommend: an Irish pub. We found one called ¨Trinity¨ that is part of El Hotel de Inglaterra (Hotel of England) that boasts an altar to James Joyce in its window. (I´m still trying to convince a book club that I belong to that we need to read ¨Ulysses,¨ but I haven´t been successful so far.) The comfy seats, ice cold AC, salty peanuts and a Guinness draft were just what the doctor ordered. (Aedan had a big bottle of water. Even though she´s got an Irish moniker, she´s a wee bit young to be drinking Guinness.)
Dinner at the hotel was served at 8 p.m. Mariana and I stayed afterwards to grade all of the blogs. We stopped at 10:30 p.m. to freshen up so that we could go to a taberna, Anselmo, that Mariana had visited two years ago. Lucky for us, it´s on the same street as our hotel. Kim met us in the lobby at 10:45 p.m., and we were off. (Blair and Aedan decided to turn in. Blair said that he was going to have a t-shirt printed for me that reads TRANSNOCHERA IN TRAINING. Mariana is a transnochera...someone who can stay up all night. I´m not. I´m a need-my-sleep-nochera. However, when in Sevilla, the birthplace of flamenco, one must rise to the occasion.
We got to the taberna at 11 p.m., but it was locked up tight. We asked at a bar up the street, Las Golondrinas, what time Anselmo opened, and the bartender said, ¨Doce¨ (Twelve). I said, ¨Hijo!¨ (Son! But the translation is more like ¨Brother!¨ in English. It´s really more of a Mexican expression than a Spanish expression, but it fit the occasion.) This transnochera training is not for the faint of heart. We asked for unos tintos to pass the time. By 11:30 p.m., a line was beginning to form. (I told Mariana about a joke I´d heard earlier in the day. A woman was in line (cola), and a gentleman tapped her on the shoulder and asked, ¨Is this the line (cola)?¨And she responded, ¨No. Mas abajo.¨ (Cola also means bottom in Spanish.)
At midnight on the dot, a woman with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, dressed in orange from head to toe, appeared. She had the keys, so it was obvious that she was la dueña, the owner. She shouted, ¨Somos los mejores! Somos los mejores!¨ (We are the best! We are the best!) Sevilla´s soccer team had just won an important match, the Copa del Rey (King´s Cup) that features the country´s top 10 teams, in Madrid. (Their teams are usually trounced by Madrid´s team and/or Barcelona´s team, so it was a big night for them.) Without warning, loud, gunfire-like sounds ricocheted off of the pavement. Mariana gasped, said ¨Oh my God!¨ and ducked behind me. Since I´d spent time in Guatemala, where they launch fireworks (bombas) for every saint´s feast day....and every day is a saint´s feast day...I didn´t blink an eye. Besides, if I can survive tear gas in Oaxaca (read June 14´s entry), I can survive gunfire in Sevilla.) Meanwhile, the woman in orange was holding forth about her team´s victory. I´d really like to know what makes Spaniards´ voices so deep and inviting. My theory is that years of smoking and late nights have given Spaniards the sexiest voices on the planet. Seriously. I´d buy a CD of Spaniards talking. Maybe if I take this Transnochera training seriously, I, too, could have a voice to die for?
I started to feel like we were at Studio 54. The lady in orange, who even had an orange heart-shaped barrette in her pulled-back, jet black hair, started pointing at people to let them in. She mentioned something about reservations. Someone asked her how you got reservations if the place was just now opening. She blew them off and pointed at some others to go in. (Turns out, the chosen ones were the musicians and dancers.) Finally, at about 12:20 p.m., the rest of us were allowed in. There was a mad dash through a narrow door to get a seat. Mariana and I scored two and saved one for Kim, who was hung up in a bottleneck, which made me think of the Pamplona bottleneck Gary talked about. I was happy there weren´t any angry bulls chasing her.
After Kim sat down, Mariana got up to get us drinks at the bar. It was a good thing. After the guitarrists started playing, the lady in orange came over to ask us what we wanted to drink. ¨Tiene que pedir una copa.¨ (You have to order a drink.) I held up my now empty wine glass, and she moved over to the German college students sitting next to me. They ignored her. She wasn´t deterred. She went back to the bar and came back with a pad of paper and a pen. The message was clear: ¨Order or get out. Thirsty customers would like your seat.¨ Even though we had ¨rented¨ our seat for a glass of wine, we were ready to leave. We´d listened to three songs, but not a single person danced. We agreed if there was no dancing on the next song, we would leave. There wasn´t, so we did. Trying to make the best of my transnochera experience, I stayed up grading blogs until after 2...and I´ve paid for it all day today. I´m just not cut out for late nights. Luckily, an infusion of coffee this afternoon saved me from hitting the pavement.
Today, we´ve been running around Sevilla without pause. (It feels good to sit down and write this blog in an air-conditioned oasis.) We got up at 7, ate breakfast at 8, and were on the road by 8:45. The sites we´ve seen include El Torre de Oro, the Alcazar (oldest European palace that was built by the Moors in the seventh century and added onto by the King of Spain, Pedro, in the fifteenth century. Supposedly, this is the place Ferdinand and Isabel received Columbus upon his return from the New World. I thought the Alcazar would pale in comparison to La Alhambra, but I must say that it held its own.), the 1929 World´s Fair area (features buildings from a plethora of countries, including the U.S.), the Plaza de España that tells the story of Spain through tile, the Jewish Quarter, the Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestranza (bullring and bullfighting school...the best in the world), El Museo de Bellas Artes where we saw a beautiful exposition of paintings that feature water (also, local artists gather with their work in a park outside of the museum, which reminded me of Paris´Montmartre artists), and the Cathedral (third largest church in the world behind St. Peter´s in Rome and St. Paul´s in London...it is a Gothic masterpiece).
In the Cathedral, Blair, Aedan, Mother, Casey and I climbed the 35 ramps to the top of La Giralda, a Moorish minaret (tower) that is the symbol of Sevilla. It was built in 1198, and you are able to take in a stunning view of the entire city from the top. (It reminded me of the views from the top of the Empire State Building in New York City and Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. It also reminded me of Richard Serra´s sculptures at the Guggenheim in Bilbao. All that turning (girando) made me dizzy, much like Serra´s sculptures made me dizzy.) When we got back down, we went to see the tomb of Christopher Columbus. What a guy! Who would I have been without him? Certainly not an Spanish-French-Irish-English-German-American citizen of San Antonio, Texas, by way of Liberty, Texas, my hometown.
Tomorrow, we leave for Madrid via Cordoba and Puerto Lapice. I have a feeling that I´ll be returning to Sevilla. I hope it doesn´t take me another 25 years to make it back.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Torremolinos, Spain
We arrived in Torremolinos, a lovely beach town on the Mediterranean, yesterday afternoon after a glorious morning/lunch hour in Granada.
La Alhambra, a United Nations´World Heritage site, was over the top. Amazingly beautiful. (As I wrote earlier, this was my third visit, but I hadn´t been since 1986. The site has definitely been lovingly restored over the past 21 years.) My mother said, ¨When you spend a half a day seeing something like this, you realize how much of your life has been wasted.¨ I have to agree. Every inch of the place was designed to please the eyes (walls covered with intricate plaster carvings in Arabic, inlaid wood ceilings, and to-die-for tiles in a multitude of geometric patterns), the ears (channels of water run throughout the complex, which provide soft, soothing background noise that isn´t noise at all...more like music), and the nose (fragrant flowers--abundant roses and jasmine--and herbs--we especially liked the lemon thyme). An inscription in La Alhambra reads: "Give alms to this blind man, Madam, because there is no bigger sorrow than being blind in Granada.¨ The Alhambra is definitely a feast for the eyes, and we said how happy we were that Los Reyes Catolicos, Ferdinand and Isabel, didn´t raze the place when they conquered Granada in 1492. Even they must have been awed by its beauty.
Our tour guide, Nils, is a Spaniard whose father is Swedish and mother is French. He grew up in a small town in the south of Spain, and his love of La Alhambra is reverential. He started the tour by taking us to the Generalife gardens, where the soothing sound of water can be heard throughout the area. Nils explained that the Moors believed that water was very spiritual and was present to remind the palace´s tenants of their spiritual nature. (Steve said he thought that they had a high regard for water, since it was such a limited resource.) According to Nils, the gardens gave them a place to think, to be, and to hear God. On the tour, I was also reminded of the Japanese art of Feng Shui, where water is an essential element to incorporate into your living environment.
As we walked through La Alhambra, I couldn´t help but think of quilts. Each and every tile design would make an amazing quilt design. I took a million pictures. (Okay, maybe not a million, but a ton that I´m going to share with my fellow quilters when I return home. I´ll post some here, too.) Nils also talked about how geometry wasn´t so practical back in their day. It was more of a spiritual quest, with theorists trying to make sense of their world.
The views from the castle, which is what La Alhambra was, were stunning. As Nils said, it was a view fit for a king (or sultan). It was nice to be royal for a day. We climbed back onto the bus to make our way to downtown Granada. Mother, Casey and Aedan found a place to hang while Blair and I walked over to see the tomb of Ferdinand and Isabel. Unfortunately, we got to La Capilla (the chapel) during siesta. All was not lost, though. The acoustics near the Cathedral were very good, and street musicians were out. We heard a trio of guitarrists who gave me chills. I´ll post a clip of them playing on youtube when I return home.
We also found a guy who would write your name in Arabic for 1 Euro. I had my name, Aedan´s name, and my Aunt Joe Ann´s name done. (Joe Ann is a calligraphy expert, so I knew she´d love this recuerdo.) Blair asked me how I knew the artist wasn´t writing ¨You are full of it¨ or something worse. I said that I didn´t know, but the calligraphy was beautiful regardless. When we stopped at a little shop not far away to buy some other goodies, the shopkeeper said ¨Denise¨. I looked up shocked and asked him how he knew my name. He pointed at the writing. I showed him the other two, and he sounded out Aedan and Joe Ann. So, I guess the writing is the real deal. I´m glad, because I´d hate to give my Aunt Joe Ann a present that says ¨Curse you, American heathen.¨
We met Mother, Casey and Aedan and walked down to La Plaza Nueva for lunch at Doner Kebap Nemrut. For 6 Euros each, we got a lunch special that included a chicken (or beef) gyro, french fries, a chilled mug of Mahou beer, and a piece of baklava. YUM! Tasty food, a lovely outdoor setting and interesting conversation made it a memorable lunch. We got back to the bus at 3:10, and everyone except Steve and a couple of the girls from Alaska were on board. I wasn´t worried about the girls, because one of their adult leaders knew they were on their way, but I was worried about Steve. He´s usually very prompt. We´d seen an altercation (loud arguing, finger pointing and almost shoving) among some gypsy women while we were near the Cathedral, and I wondered if he hadn´t been spirited away by gypsies. (Casey said that the gypsies don´t watch soap operas here, so they create their own.) Instead, Steve had lunch in a local bar, and he said, ¨You know how it is when you´re in a bar and someone wants to tell you their life story and you´re too polite to tell them you´ve got to go and that you don´t speak Spanish very well? Well, that´s what happened. Lo siento. (I´m sorry.)¨ For the record, I think Steve speaks Spanish quite well for someone who only had it in high school. I can´t believe he remembers as much as he does, but then again he´s a very smart guy.
From Granada, we drove two hours west to Torremolinos, which is on Spain´s beautiful Costa del Sol. (Sean Connery, the real James Bond, has a house up the road in Marbella.) Our hotel has a pool, so, of course, Aedan wanted to jump in. It wasn´t as cold as the hotel pool in Granada, but it was pretty darn cold. I yelped when I hit the water, and a gentleman who was sitting on the side of the pool laughed. He said that he was from Madrid, and the water was even cold for him. We started talking, and I found out that he was holding his 9-month-old son, Francisco, while watching his 8-year-old daughter, Laura, swim. I told him that I´d lived in Madrid for a year and that I was still crazy about it. He seemed pleased.
We got ready for dinner and made our way down to the hotel´s buffet. Quite a spread. I ate my fill without an ounce of guilt. One of my students said, ¨I didn´t know we were going to lose weight on this trip!¨ I said, ¨Didn´t you know it was a Spa Study Abroad?!¨ We have been walking our legs off...literally. It sort of reminds me of ¨The Secret Garden¨. Remember the sickly boy who goes out to play with the other children, and little by little, he becomes healthy? That´s what´s happening with us. My calves are rock hard. My thighs and glutes are slimming down from the constant up and down stair climbing. One of the travelers injured her leg back home, and she said this trip has been the best physical therapy she´s ever had. I told her that she ought to ask her doctor to prescribe an annual trip to Spain instead of regular PT. (It would probably cost less.)
After dinner, which we had with Gary, Mother and Casey, we walked down the hill, about a 10-minute straight shot, to the sea. Some other Palo Altoites were already there picking up pebbles and shells. We laughed and said that when the airline asks us if we have rocks in our suitcase, we´ll be able to say yes truthfully. We walked back to the hotel, uphill, where we ran into Kim and Mariana, who were plotting a trip to Ronda, a two-hour bus ride north of Torremolinos, for the next day. We enjoyed a bebida and watched a young (3ish) Spanish girl dressed in ropa flamenca tipica (polka dots galore) hold forth on a mini stage. Precious.
Today, we spent the whole day hanging out at the beach. We met a lovely British couple, Susie and Tony, who have lived in Torremolinos for more than 20 years. I had a cup of coffee on the beach, and I said how happy I was to be drinking Spanish coffee again. Tony said, ¨It´s the best in the world. It´s one of the reasons I live here.¨ He said that he had at least four cups a day. Aedan said, ¨And I thought she (meaning me) was bad!¨ I don´t blame Tony at all. Truly, Starbucks wishes its coffee tasted so good. Tony and Susie are planning a trip to Florida soon, and I invited them to visit San Antonio. I told them they could probably get an inexpensive fare on Southwest Airlines. I hope they decide to make the hop over the Gulf of Mexico.
Mañana, we´re off to Sevilla. This trip is going by way too fast. After two nights in Sevilla, we´ll head back to Madrid. Some will stay only two nights there, but the rest of us will have seven nights. Can´t wait, but it feels like we already need to start planning our next visit over. Anyone want to join us? :)
La Alhambra, a United Nations´World Heritage site, was over the top. Amazingly beautiful. (As I wrote earlier, this was my third visit, but I hadn´t been since 1986. The site has definitely been lovingly restored over the past 21 years.) My mother said, ¨When you spend a half a day seeing something like this, you realize how much of your life has been wasted.¨ I have to agree. Every inch of the place was designed to please the eyes (walls covered with intricate plaster carvings in Arabic, inlaid wood ceilings, and to-die-for tiles in a multitude of geometric patterns), the ears (channels of water run throughout the complex, which provide soft, soothing background noise that isn´t noise at all...more like music), and the nose (fragrant flowers--abundant roses and jasmine--and herbs--we especially liked the lemon thyme). An inscription in La Alhambra reads: "Give alms to this blind man, Madam, because there is no bigger sorrow than being blind in Granada.¨ The Alhambra is definitely a feast for the eyes, and we said how happy we were that Los Reyes Catolicos, Ferdinand and Isabel, didn´t raze the place when they conquered Granada in 1492. Even they must have been awed by its beauty.
Our tour guide, Nils, is a Spaniard whose father is Swedish and mother is French. He grew up in a small town in the south of Spain, and his love of La Alhambra is reverential. He started the tour by taking us to the Generalife gardens, where the soothing sound of water can be heard throughout the area. Nils explained that the Moors believed that water was very spiritual and was present to remind the palace´s tenants of their spiritual nature. (Steve said he thought that they had a high regard for water, since it was such a limited resource.) According to Nils, the gardens gave them a place to think, to be, and to hear God. On the tour, I was also reminded of the Japanese art of Feng Shui, where water is an essential element to incorporate into your living environment.
As we walked through La Alhambra, I couldn´t help but think of quilts. Each and every tile design would make an amazing quilt design. I took a million pictures. (Okay, maybe not a million, but a ton that I´m going to share with my fellow quilters when I return home. I´ll post some here, too.) Nils also talked about how geometry wasn´t so practical back in their day. It was more of a spiritual quest, with theorists trying to make sense of their world.
The views from the castle, which is what La Alhambra was, were stunning. As Nils said, it was a view fit for a king (or sultan). It was nice to be royal for a day. We climbed back onto the bus to make our way to downtown Granada. Mother, Casey and Aedan found a place to hang while Blair and I walked over to see the tomb of Ferdinand and Isabel. Unfortunately, we got to La Capilla (the chapel) during siesta. All was not lost, though. The acoustics near the Cathedral were very good, and street musicians were out. We heard a trio of guitarrists who gave me chills. I´ll post a clip of them playing on youtube when I return home.
We also found a guy who would write your name in Arabic for 1 Euro. I had my name, Aedan´s name, and my Aunt Joe Ann´s name done. (Joe Ann is a calligraphy expert, so I knew she´d love this recuerdo.) Blair asked me how I knew the artist wasn´t writing ¨You are full of it¨ or something worse. I said that I didn´t know, but the calligraphy was beautiful regardless. When we stopped at a little shop not far away to buy some other goodies, the shopkeeper said ¨Denise¨. I looked up shocked and asked him how he knew my name. He pointed at the writing. I showed him the other two, and he sounded out Aedan and Joe Ann. So, I guess the writing is the real deal. I´m glad, because I´d hate to give my Aunt Joe Ann a present that says ¨Curse you, American heathen.¨
We met Mother, Casey and Aedan and walked down to La Plaza Nueva for lunch at Doner Kebap Nemrut. For 6 Euros each, we got a lunch special that included a chicken (or beef) gyro, french fries, a chilled mug of Mahou beer, and a piece of baklava. YUM! Tasty food, a lovely outdoor setting and interesting conversation made it a memorable lunch. We got back to the bus at 3:10, and everyone except Steve and a couple of the girls from Alaska were on board. I wasn´t worried about the girls, because one of their adult leaders knew they were on their way, but I was worried about Steve. He´s usually very prompt. We´d seen an altercation (loud arguing, finger pointing and almost shoving) among some gypsy women while we were near the Cathedral, and I wondered if he hadn´t been spirited away by gypsies. (Casey said that the gypsies don´t watch soap operas here, so they create their own.) Instead, Steve had lunch in a local bar, and he said, ¨You know how it is when you´re in a bar and someone wants to tell you their life story and you´re too polite to tell them you´ve got to go and that you don´t speak Spanish very well? Well, that´s what happened. Lo siento. (I´m sorry.)¨ For the record, I think Steve speaks Spanish quite well for someone who only had it in high school. I can´t believe he remembers as much as he does, but then again he´s a very smart guy.
From Granada, we drove two hours west to Torremolinos, which is on Spain´s beautiful Costa del Sol. (Sean Connery, the real James Bond, has a house up the road in Marbella.) Our hotel has a pool, so, of course, Aedan wanted to jump in. It wasn´t as cold as the hotel pool in Granada, but it was pretty darn cold. I yelped when I hit the water, and a gentleman who was sitting on the side of the pool laughed. He said that he was from Madrid, and the water was even cold for him. We started talking, and I found out that he was holding his 9-month-old son, Francisco, while watching his 8-year-old daughter, Laura, swim. I told him that I´d lived in Madrid for a year and that I was still crazy about it. He seemed pleased.
We got ready for dinner and made our way down to the hotel´s buffet. Quite a spread. I ate my fill without an ounce of guilt. One of my students said, ¨I didn´t know we were going to lose weight on this trip!¨ I said, ¨Didn´t you know it was a Spa Study Abroad?!¨ We have been walking our legs off...literally. It sort of reminds me of ¨The Secret Garden¨. Remember the sickly boy who goes out to play with the other children, and little by little, he becomes healthy? That´s what´s happening with us. My calves are rock hard. My thighs and glutes are slimming down from the constant up and down stair climbing. One of the travelers injured her leg back home, and she said this trip has been the best physical therapy she´s ever had. I told her that she ought to ask her doctor to prescribe an annual trip to Spain instead of regular PT. (It would probably cost less.)
After dinner, which we had with Gary, Mother and Casey, we walked down the hill, about a 10-minute straight shot, to the sea. Some other Palo Altoites were already there picking up pebbles and shells. We laughed and said that when the airline asks us if we have rocks in our suitcase, we´ll be able to say yes truthfully. We walked back to the hotel, uphill, where we ran into Kim and Mariana, who were plotting a trip to Ronda, a two-hour bus ride north of Torremolinos, for the next day. We enjoyed a bebida and watched a young (3ish) Spanish girl dressed in ropa flamenca tipica (polka dots galore) hold forth on a mini stage. Precious.
Today, we spent the whole day hanging out at the beach. We met a lovely British couple, Susie and Tony, who have lived in Torremolinos for more than 20 years. I had a cup of coffee on the beach, and I said how happy I was to be drinking Spanish coffee again. Tony said, ¨It´s the best in the world. It´s one of the reasons I live here.¨ He said that he had at least four cups a day. Aedan said, ¨And I thought she (meaning me) was bad!¨ I don´t blame Tony at all. Truly, Starbucks wishes its coffee tasted so good. Tony and Susie are planning a trip to Florida soon, and I invited them to visit San Antonio. I told them they could probably get an inexpensive fare on Southwest Airlines. I hope they decide to make the hop over the Gulf of Mexico.
Mañana, we´re off to Sevilla. This trip is going by way too fast. After two nights in Sevilla, we´ll head back to Madrid. Some will stay only two nights there, but the rest of us will have seven nights. Can´t wait, but it feels like we already need to start planning our next visit over. Anyone want to join us? :)
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