-
Granada anytime
“Have you been to Granada before?” I was asked this question several times. It’s true I had visited Granada in 1992, but it was so long ago I always hesitated with my response, as if there was a statute of limitations on my memories. I have some recollection of my host but not of the city itself. It felt easier and more realistic to provide the same response as my husband who was travelling with me: “No, first time.” On arrival, the train station certainly didn’t feel familiar. Nor did any of the plazas or streets. I could see the Alhambra from many stunning viewpoints, but had I truly seen…
-
Snowfall… or nevada
I have been studying Spanish since I returned from my trip. Among the tools I use, a Spanish Dictionary app helps expand my vocabulary with a new word each day. I have recently learned some wintery words: la nevada (snowfall), invernar (to winter), friolento (sensitive to cold), el copo de nieve (snowflake) A winter wonderland is not the typical image of Spain that comes to mind (though a huge snowfall hit Madrid last winter and skiers zip down the slopes of the Sierra de Nevada north of Granada). I don’t imagine I will use these words in Spain unless I am talking about snowy winters in Canada. Right now we…
-
A very special night for Málaga
The joy in the unexpected is so often about the little things. A fun interaction. A quiet plaza. A new taste. Málaga held a wonderfully unexpected experience but I cannot classify it as small. It was on a grand scale. It started as I checked in to my hotel. The greeting from the hostess was unusual: “Let me explain what’s happening tonight.” By the excited tone in her voice it was clear this had nothing to do with the wi-fi password. “It’s like a mini Semana Santa.” A week earlier I was in Sevilla so I had heard a little about Semana Santa or Holy Week. Sevillanos spend the entire…
-
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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
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…
