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Layers of a cake
The buildings in Sevilla are laced with ornate trim in warm shades of oranges and yellows and fancy iron balconies and light fixtures. It reminds me of a beautifully decorated cake. This is only one layer of the city. With the complex history of Sevilla I appreciated how my tour guide Maria (Devour Tours) simplified the narrative into bite sized pieces. She gave our small group this sweet history lesson while we were standing in front of two Roman columns. The original Roman columns, carved from a single piece of granite, were tucked into a recessed courtyard (like a hole in the ground) off the side of the street (ironically…
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Remembered moments
One of the first exercises I learned in a writing class was an exercise of memory: remembered moments. With a series of prompting questions I had to list as many details as I could to recreate the scene (for the class it was a childhood car trip). The more details the better: the people I was with, what I was wearing, any conversation or other sounds, the texture of my seat, my mood. The idea is to transport yourself back to that moment. For the exercise I could only close my eyes and do my best to recall these details, but a journal or a photo are a great help…
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Ramblings in Madrid
My evenings are reserved for vermut, my days for walking and exploring the streets of Madrid. I discover the neighborhoods (barrios) of Madrid are as varied as the vermut. I love the elegant streets of Las Letras (or the literary quarter) which is where some of Spain’s literary greats lived, such as Miguel de Cervantes and Lope de la Vega. There are quotes from these masters embedded in the streets. Meaningful and poetic no doubt. It’s a test for my high school Spanish. I do not pass! But I still enjoy stopping to read the words. Luckily my Spanish is good enough to ask for a table (una mesa) on…
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Drinking in the ambience
I am sitting outside on a terrace as the sky turns deep blue. The sky darkens and the ornate sconces turn on, adding a soft glow to the weathered plaza. The air is warm. Church bells ring. A man walks his dog across the cobblestones. It’s quiet but for the animated chatter at the tables around me. At the table next to me sits a family with three little girls. Their three scooters, nestled together, are leaning on the table. It’s getting late. Except this is Madrid. The night is young. This scene seems to repeat every night. People of all ages come together for drinks, a tapa, a meal.…
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Merriment in Barcelona
I had a blast in Barcelona. My journal is filled with adjectives like “super”, “incredible” and “fun”. It was the vibrancy of the city; the fun company (we were touring with our energetic friend Carolyn); the lovely weather; the spontaneous Easter egg hunt in our hostel (thank you Sarah!) We laughed, we had good time. I was fascinated by Antoni Gaudi. I had absolutely no clue about this famous architect. Never seen any photos. So his creations were a complete surprise … and bizarre and unusual. Perhaps that made the discovery all the more thrilling. We wandered in a park with a “huge cascade of fountains, statues and stairs galore”…
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Chill’n out in Gandia
We drank sangria and learned that nightlife only gets going after midnight in Spain. The nightclub was practically empty at 11:00 pm, but the music was loud. 🎵 Don’t go, don’t goooo, don’t go away… I’m begging you to stay… The club was a short walk down the beach from our beachfront youth hostel on Playa Piles. On another night, we watched the sunset and made a fire by the beach with the other travellers staying at the hostel. We were all there for the same reason. A beach holiday within our holiday. After three weeks of checking off European cities (12 in total!) and three sleepless overnight train trips,…
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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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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…
