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Our Granada mother
We were greeted at the train station by a little old lady. She was drawn to the large Canadian flag on my pack. As usual we rolled into town with no place to stay. This is generally not a problem. But it was Semana Santa, and this is a big deal in Spain. We had not consulted a calendar or our common sense before heading into Spain during the event of the year. So when she approached us offering us a room in “mi casa”, we figured it was our best bet. “Venga” she motioned for us to follow. We tightened our huge packs around our waists and were off.…
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A casual castle hangout in Marseille
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The bridges of Ronda
When I returned from my trip, my family gave me the postcards I had sent them during my travels. I thought this strange at first, but now I realize the postcards are helpful as I piece together my memories. In a postcard to my dad (a retired architect) I wrote about the construction of the bridge spanning the dramatic gorge in Ronda. The Puente Nuevo (“New Bridge”) is an impressive architectural feat. It is the largest of Ronda’s three bridges. In a side view of the bridge, you can see how the bridge was built in three stages, each with its own layer of arches (google it, the bridge is…
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A plaza in Sevilla
I am standing in a small plaza filled with orange trees. The trees grow out of small square openings in the cobbled ground, filling the air with the smell of sweet blossoms. The surrounding buildings are warm shades of yellow and ochre. People are lounging at small tables, sitting on fanciful white metal chairs, sipping a drink, nibbling a tapa. A man is strumming a guitar. Sevilla. This is the feeling of Sevilla I remember. We spent most of our time searching for a bank and food, and chatting with some Canadians preparing to work at Expo 92. We were lucky to get the beds we did for two nights…
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Two nights in Portugal
We were in Lisbon for two nights. The only country we spent less time in than Portugal was Luxembourg (not really a fair comparison as it is 36 times smaller than Portugal). We arrived in Lisbon by overnight train from Spain, and departed the same way. Our short stay was not for lack of places to visit. We certainly got recommendations from other backpackers, notably the Algarve region. But we did not make a detour to this southern coastal region. Instead, I started my list of places to return to and Lagos was the first entry. In my journal I noted “Lisbon is quite lovely”. I admired the large walkways…
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Madrid and strawberries and cream
Overnight trains can be an efficient way to cover long distances cheaply on a Eurorail pass. Free accommodation, and you wake up in new country. Our short stay in Madrid started and ended with overnight train rides. Needless to say we arrived in Madrid, from France, exhausted. A side effect of this great efficiency. With a garbage strike in full force, we did not experience Madrid at its best. But we still had a pleasant time. We strolled around Plaza Mayor, picnicked in Parque del Retiro and perused the artwork, including Picasso’s famed Guernica. I ate paella. The second day we went to Aranjuez, described in our guidebook as the…
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En route to Carcassonne
Carcassonne was our next overnight stay after our castle hangout in Marseille. We stopped at Arles on the way, travelling with Caren who we met at the hostel. Arles is where “we learned the french way to eat lunch…prolonged”. I had a delicious crêpe at a snug and relaxed crêperie tucked into a narrow street. We continued the leisurely pace stopping to watch some men play Pétanque before getting on our train to Carcassonne. The board game Carcassonne looks strikingly like the real Carcassonne Cité. Look at an arial view and the resemblance is uncanny. Carcassonne is a wonderfully preserved medieval walled city. The double set of walls, an impressive…
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A casual castle hangout in Marseille
As a backpacker, I felt part of a family of sorts: a peripatetic family. I would meet someone in one city and then run into them in another. We were all hopscotching along, making our own route, but sometimes our squares would overlap. International Youth hostels provided a common space to meet other travellers, or have surprise repeat encounters. Our first youth hostel was a castle, the 19th century Chateau du Bois-Luzy in Marseille. The three storey stone building was at the top of a hill, a large picnic area offered great city views and the grand foyer had ornately patterned marble floor. At the hostel, we met Phil, an…
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Near Monaco, but far away
Imagine a tiny village. A jumble of crumbling stone buildings. Perched impossibly high on the hillside. Clinging to the side of the rock. Higgledy-piggledy cobblestone streets. Beautiful old plazas. Ancient water fountains. This was Peille. Peille was not on our map. Not in our guidebook. There was no train station in Peille. You needed a car to get there. It was a day we did not plan. We had a guide. We stayed with Sarah’s cousin in Monaco. She was a gracious host. She and her friend drove us to the small village of Peille, a mere 17 kms away, but another world. I remember it felt unreal, like a…
