Travel stories
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Plazas and pebbled tapestries in Córdoba
Córdoba is jam-packed with treasures from its storied past. It was exhilarating, and overwhelming. One moment I was admiring the pretty flower pots climbing whitewashed walls and then I turned a corner to be confronted by a stretch of the massive Game of Throne-esque wall that encircled the city in Roman times. Another day I unexpectedly walked under an archway into the huge 17th century Plaza del Corredera (similar to Plaza Mayor in Madrid without the sculpture of a king on a horse and far quieter). Exiting the other side of the rectangular plaza I was soon face-to-face with the remains of a Roman temple from the 1st century. Eleven Corinthian marble…
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A simple guide to dining out in Spain
Check the time. You may be hungry or simply eager to commence your culinary adventure but don’t head out too early. It may be tempting. But don’t. Don’t attempt lunch before 1:30 pm or dinner before 8:30 pm. If the restaurant is open earlier it’s not where locals eat. Consider the later dining hours warm up for a leisurely paced meal. Ask for a table. Step inside the restaurant and try your Spanish: “Una mesa para dos, por favor”. Alternatively, hold up the appropriate number of fingers. Be ready with your drink order. Service starts with a drink. Pronto. Your server may ask what you would like to drink as…
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The beauty of ceramics in Sevilla
The glazed tiles preserved a hand written message in vibrant blue lettering. I studied the words as I ate my tangy marinated carrots at the narrow bar curving through the small space. When I needed a break from my meagre attempts to translate the message, I shifted my gaze to the huge bowls of radishes and large green olives on the upper shelf of the bar. I could only decipher a few words. Magica (magical) Taverna (tavern) Amigo (friend) Vino (wine) Alma (soul) If I had had more courage I would have asked the server about its meaning. He had already advised me to eat downstairs at the bar where…
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The joy of the unexpected
I am home from Spain and listening to the band Triana. The sound is 70s psychodelic rock, the fine guitar work Andalusian, the voice soulful. Expressive. This rock band is one of the wonderful discoveries I unearthed in Spain. One in a long list. Delightful, unexpected, small discoveries and interactions that made my trip memorable. In Cordoba, I was lost. After strolling the haphazard streets on my first afternoon I wanted to return to my hotel and rest. I was tired. Perhaps it was the endless distractions around every corner (let’s see what’s down this cute street…) or my impending exhaustion but I got totally mixed up. The map in…
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Savouring the ambience
I am sitting on a high speed train from Málaga to Madrid. Leaving the coast the train tunnels through the mountains and into the expansive countryside: white houses scattered on the hillsides, olive trees as far as I can see, stone walls crisscrossing the landscape. In Málaga I visited the delightful Muséo Carmen Thyssen. The collection focuses on 19th Spanish art and Andalusia in particular. It was a nice way to see traditions I learned about (like the Sevilla April fair) and the places I visited (like Cadiz) during my trip, as depicted in the 19th century. As I stood in front of a large painting by a Spanish naturalist…
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Flowers and sweets in Cordoba
The cultural legacy of Cordoba is immense. It was once the Roman and Moorish capital of Spain and home of the Caliphate of Córdoba and its philosophers, poets and engineers. It’s a lot to take in. My brain needed a break from the history, as fascinating as it is, so on my second day I put aside the guidebook. Instead, I wandered without a plan (with a map, I am not that reckless!) A couple minutes from my hotel I saw the heavy wooden doors of Convento Santa Clara were open. I stepped into the peaceful courtyard. Rugged stones underfoot. I saw the sign for Dulces Artesanales. Nun’s cookies! I…
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Trails, trails and more trails
This could get addictive. Walking from village to village. Beautiful nature connecting the dots. A picturesque whitewashed hamlet as a destination to mark the kilometres travelled and to meander the timeless cobbled streets. But not for too long. The trails beckon. And so go my days in the Sierra de Aracena. Outside of the weekend, I hardly meet a soul. The sounds I hear are the birdsong, the tinkle of bells from goats and lambs, the tap tap of horses hooves, the cockadoodle of a rooster. Oink oink! Chestnuts crashing down. The wind rustling the leaves. The smells are a pleasant breeze from the city. The air is crisp. At…
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Fiesta en Plaza del Jamón
I took a detour today. To the town of Jabugo. I knew nothing about Jabugo other than it was not far from Galaroza, where I was staying overnight. A doable short walk. All uphill. I walk into town and the first thing I see is a Jamón processing plant. At the fork in the road I am presented with an option between an asphalt road or cobbled one typical of serrana villages. Down the cobble lane I go. It’s quiet. Not just the serene peacefulness I am getting accustomed to in this rural area of cork trees and whitewashed villages lost in time. Barren streets type of quiet. No people.…
