Spain - 2018

(original post)

We'd started planning a trip as soon as we knew that our youngest, Nathan, was leaving for Nashville, effectively leaving us as empty-nesters. The shock needed a tonic and travel seemed the best concoction. Cost was certainly a consideration and our first thought was Portugal. But looking over flights, the cheapest seemed to be to Madrid, so we changed our plans and started scoping out the south of Spain. A friend (and former boss), Larry Hausner had been there and gave us some tips on what to look for. We ultimately decided on a day or two in Madrid then taking a train down to Seville, then buses to Malaga on the coast, then over to Granada and back to Madrid for a couple days. Leaving Purcellville we had a nice driver - RJ - who had Cochlear implants that Martha noted.

The flight up to New York was delayed taking off and then even more delayed when we landed - getting to a gate, dashing out of the plane, waiting for Martha’s bag and then running down 20 gates to barely make our connection to the Madrid flight.

It was nicely accommodated by Delta. A snack, hot towel, meal, wine and breakfast snack. I watched a movie, read and we both slept a while. The 6.5 hour flight actually went pretty quickly.

We got a cab to our hotel, the Catalonia Puerta del Sol, near the city center at about 10, but couldn’t check in until 2, so left our bags and started walking. We were dazed and it was chilly and windy. We checked out the royal palace and sat in a café to try chocolate churros, checked out Plaza Mayor and Puerto del Sol. Then finally checked

into our room with a nicely appointed, wood tone room centered around a stone courtyard. We discovered, though, that the card key had to be inserted into a slot for the electricity to work?!?

Then we both took naps to get adjusted to the time change.

That night I'd gotten tickets for a show at a small club where Randy Brecker was playing with Simon Phillips. And we ended up seated right behind Phillips.

Wednesday, November 7

The next morning we caught a typical European breakfast - which includes what we think of as lunch meats and cheeses - in the basement restaurant, checked out and took a cab to the train station for the trip to Seville.

After figuring out the track assignments we also discovered on the train that we had seat assignments - which doesn’t usually happen on US trains. It was modern, clean and very efficient.

The Spanish have a very different way of segmenting their day. Lunch is not until early or mid-afternoon and can be either tapas (small snack dishes) or full meals. Then many places shut down - some by 4:00 or 5:00, and don’t open up again until 8:00. And then the tourists wander in, since many of the Spanish don’t really come out to eat until 9:00 or so.

In a bit of desperation we found an almost deserted touristy place blaring 1970s music and got a quick bite - then toured the Hércules plaza area. Then strolling downtown we came across a weird structure - the Metropol Parasol and went to the top for a sight of the city. We then meandered through the streets and found a square where Martha stopped to buy some jewelry and I admired the scene. After going back to the hotel for a nap (a familiar pattern) we went back to the same place for dinner. Kinda touristy, but sea bass and a think chocolatie crepe brûlée.

Thursday, November 8

A rainy day. A perfect one to see the Cathedral, one of the main attractions in Seville. It’s the worlds largest Gothic cathedral and the third largest overall - after St Paul’s in London and St Peters in Rome. The space and size of the columns was enormous. Alters, choir spaces and recesses for special people or saints were intricately elaborate and ornate with towering compositions of silver and gold. It was constructed in the early 1600s and took over a hundred years to complete.

Laced through all the descriptions- as all across Seville - was the reminder that the structure originated with the Moors as a mosque, then taken over by the Christians who also slaughtered many of the residents. Seemed to me a recurring theme with the Spanish. In another section of town the story was that they'd murdered or tried to convert Jews and confiscated their synagogues and property. Then, of course, they also went to the New World and mercilessly murdered and plundered natives. And all in the name of Christianity and a crown, which was really a cover for greed and conquest.

What underscored that theme was the tomb of Christopher Columbus on prominent display in the Cathedral. His remains had apparently been moved several times and landed here - in a great display of conquest and plunder; though I didn't get the impression the Spanish have caught up with that revisionist history.

As I looked around this beautiful structure and ornamentation, I couldn’t help but admire the dedication and faith that achieved these incredible feats of construction and art. But I was also struck by the delusion and hypocrisy of it all.

We climbed the Gibralter tower that was originally built by the Moors and used to call believers to prayer. Its oldest base is made with blocks of stones from the Romans and is climbed by a long series of ramps to the top - for donkeys to haul materials - with striking views of the city at different levels. The top offered the a sweeping view and the bells of the tower. Too bad it was overcast and dreary on our visit.

Beyond the impressive structure, I was also amused by the diversity of nationalities there. I heard German, French, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Italian and British. It was comforting to think of the arc of history in sharing the marvel of this monument to difference and conflict with people who now share so much in common.

We meandered through the town by the trolly train, got a gelato and went down toward the river. The charm of Seville - around every corner is picture-postcard cuteness. Streets narrow with cars-people. Bars clustered with crowds of young people drinking, smoking and noshing on tapas.

Martha had picked up tickets for a performance at the Flamenco museum and I was pleasantly surprised. The performance with three dancers, two singers and guitarist was far more intense and complex than I would have thought. There was obviously great tradition and technique involved, but animated by intense emotional storytelling.

The guitarist was phenomenal with intricate interplay with the dancers. Some of the music actually struck me as something that leant itself to drumming creativity. And I remembered that Stewart Copeland (Police) grew up with these Moroccan/Spanish influences that distinguished his drumming.

In the museum after the show, a display noted that flamenco came from the same origins as American jazz; in the streets, barrios and bordellos of poorer communities. Both involved a emotive expression grounded in technical skills.

Back to the room to take a nap. When we went out to dinner we ended up at a local - Bar Z - and then strolled toward the river and found a hopping strip by the Cathedral with a string of restaurants and bars, settling on Bar Tomate for another tapas and a dessert.

Friday, November 9

A gorgeous day and perfect to wander. We found a little bodega café around the corner and went there for a rich coffee and egg crescent. We wandered down by the river and passed the bull ring. I was curious about it, but the tour was expensive and later in the day. Anyway, Martha didn't want to patronize an institution focused on the celebration of torturing an animal. On that, I had to agree. Onward.

At Larry Hausner's suggestion, we wandered the Barracos market at the foot of the bridge over to Triana. Modern and an interesting variety of foods, including, the ubiquitous pig legs being carved. Pig legs are in every restaurant hanging from hooks or racks, usually with little cups underneath to catch drippings. The black-hoofed variety are supposedly the finest. One is often perched on the restaurant bar and gradually being sliced for the ongoing tapas. A bit like presciutto, it's in many of the meals and along with cheese - 'jamon y queso.'

On the other side of the bridge we visited the Triana market; a much more functional grocery and neighborhood oriented place. Next door we visited a ceramic museum that didn't have many visitors. It focused on the history of the area and a variety of ceramic artisans and manufacturing, which is a source of local pride.

Time for lunch. Everytime we turned around it seemed it was a mealtime. In the central corridor of Triana at the base of the bridge there were scores of cafes and shops. We snagged a table and watched the traffic, which included some young male singers in uniforms and an old guitarist, singer. Obviously, they were looking for contributions. Some of the 'performers' are likely homeless. We came across this fairly regularly, though the extent of the problem didn't seem near as bad as U.S. cities.

Wandering back into Seville we lazed by the river and started walking further north to come back around in a different direction. Walking, walking....we did a lot of it and partly making it up as we went along. Footsore, we found a little café and caught a coffee and brownie. Also a cute little concoction of a coffee pot to look like a robot. Trudging back to the room, we had to take the afternoon siesta. By evening we decided to try Melono Leon for dinner (per Larry) but we didn't have a reservation -- and it looked a bit rich for our blood. Backtracking, we found a hopping place on the Hercules strip, with lots of young people, as everywhere, and caught a drink. Then finally found a little café and had tapas in the back.

Saturday, November 10

Took a cab to the train for our trip down to Malaga.

The landscape was hilly and sparse coming into Malaga. Like parts of the US southwest, it’s easy to see why the early Clint Eastwood “spaghetti” westerns were filmed here.

We caught a cab quickly enough with a short drive to our hotel.

After getting settled we wandered over to the main commercial area and it reminded us of being in a giant mall - although with rows of outdoor cafes. Lots of contemporary shops - H&M, Victoria’s Secret, etc. with a pavement like marble. There were some alleyway- type roads, but not quite the quaint narrow passageways of Seville. We discovered a novel retail operation - a cork store. We wandered among the crowds and shops, many very touristy. Martha tried on some clothes. I bought a pipe.

That evening we found a restaurant for a great paella meal right by the Picasso museum. Paella, is a local favorite, but needs to be sought out for authenticity and quality - really cooked from scratch. Afterwards we found a “pink” dessert shop that appeared to be patterned after a 1950s fountain shop with a wealth of sweets. Exhausted we went back to the hotel and collapsed.

Sunday, November 11

The main attraction of Malaga is that it’s the center of the costa del sol - the southern coast of the Medetrranian with beaches and resorts. So we decided to get bikes through the hotel and ride down the beach.

Martha went to Picasso museum in afternoon, then the Castillo de Gibralfaro, the old moorish palace overlooking the city with wonderful views.

We had a little trouble finding a place to eat dinner. Being Sunday several places we wanted to go were closed. Finally found a small tapas place and then got dessert at the pink place again. We went in early that night.

Monday, November 12

Breakfast at the Mariposa, our hotel, and went to the bus depot for the trip over to Granada. We were already tired. We ended up in the front seat, so had a commanding view of the landscape through the front windows. Lots of olive fields along the way. They covered almost every hillside. We grabbed a cab to our hotel. The driver spoke no English, so we weren't sure if we were heading in the right direction; especially when he stopped short of our hotel. But a very nice place across from - another - cathedral - hence, Eurostar Catedral. I explored Plaza Nueva and went to an ATM as Martha took a nap. We walked around the plaza and up the slopes to Plaza St. Nicolas to look over at Alhambra. We wantered into more shops and found another cork store where we bought some things for the boys. We also came across this extraordinary spice shop. In included a wide variety of elements in baskets. I'd never seen, or smelled, anything like it - fascinating. Afterwards we went to a place called Rollo for dinner.

Tuesday, November 13

Our day to tour the Alhambra. I had not even heard of it before, but it has to rate as one of the great wonders of civilization. It was orginally built by the Moors and much of its beauty and elegance is from those origins. We took a bus up the long winding roads and I popped for a narration contraption that offered an electronic tour. The structure was originally built as both a fortress and a palace. Whe the Moors were run out of southern Spain, the monarchy progressively added to it, resulting in different layers of influence. By Far, the most impressive part of Alhambra is the landscaping. The buildings and structures are integrated into the gardens in a both beautiful and peaceful balance. At every turn we wanted to take pictures -- to the point of almost not enjoying the moment. This was undoubtedly the highlight of our trip. We spent most of the day there and still hadn't seen it all. Exhausted, we took the shuttle bus back down the hill to the main part of town.

Wednesday, November 14

Our hotel was across the street (really pedestrian walkway) from the Caterdal, so we had to visit it. As with most cathedrals, it was enormous and inspiring. I was again awed by the devotion and work that went into the construction and ornamentation of these structures.

Afterwards we explored some shops nearby. The area near our hotel and the Caterdal were full of shops and restaurants. Probably the more touristy sections of Granada; but it was novel to us and served our purposes.

We then took a bus ride up to Sacromonte. Granada has a 'Roma' or gypsy population and years ago when they were more heavily persecuted, they made their homes in the hills -- literally - digging out caves for their dwellings and workshops. The "museum" we visited was a quaint, quiet display that seemed sanitized for tourist purposes. But it wasn't necessarily a page from a bygone era. As a matter of fact, from our vantage point there appeared to be other holes in the hills where people lived today. They didn't look to be as quaint or clean.

But visiting Sacramente revived my democratic values. It also reminded me of Native Americans - people who were shunted to the side as less desirable. We all need to keep being reminded that individuals all have equal value, worth, potential and rights to pursue their own dreams.

We ended up walking back down from Sacramonte - weaving into some walkways and streets that tourists might not normally wander. At the bottom, we got a bite at a touristy outdoor café where we could look up at Alhambra.

As with other restaurants in Spain, we experienced a lax attitude in customer service. Sometimes I think the Spanish restaurants deserve to be walked out on. They frequently take a long time to respond to customer needs, including getting the bill. Part of it, no doubt, is my own American impatience and inability to linger. But the incentive structure for restaurants there is different too. There is no tipping (other than rounding up the total). So while that's great for keeping your costs down, it doesn't provide an incentive for waitstaff to be attentive. I often felt I had to chase down a waiter to get a bill.

In our final evening in Granada we took a different tact for dinner with a Moroccan restaurant. It was a nice change from the constant 'jamon y queso.' As we wandered around the neighborhood of Eurostars and the Catedral, I noted - as I had in several other places - the ubiquity of graffiti -- even on the Catedral. Sometimes it was artistic, but there was an awful lot of tagging that was more destructive than expressive.

Thursday, November 15

Checked out of Eurostar’s Caterdal and got a cab to the bus depot and ended up in the front seats - again! We’d brought along some food we’d squirreled away from some prior meals - including ‘jamon y queso’. It was a great view from the front with a panoramic view of the landscape. Olive trees cover every hill for miles. They totally overwhelm the terrain. I suppose like corn fields across the Midwest.

It was a four hour trip. We took a cab to the hotel at Victoria 4 and it was quite a disappointment. Beds were like rocks and faced right over the noisy street cafes that bustle into late hours. After resting a bit we met Beth & Fred Uberseder, their daughter Lauren, her husband Ben and their little boy, Web. We took in a restaurant that specialized in boiling garlic shrimp that turned pretty expensive. Then moved on to another restaurant that was noisy but had an abundance of food.

Friday, November 16

Martha was debating whether to visit the Prado - the major art museum - or go with the Uberseders on a tour of the city on a roundabout bus. As the weather cleared, we opted for the latter and walked the mile or so to their hotel - the Marriott Courtyard.

There were some demonstrations going on that screwed up the bus stops and we wasted two hours walking back and forth along the Grand Via getting to the right stop. We finally found the right stop all the way across town near the Prado! In the meantime we’d lost Lauren, Ben and Web who was having meltdowns.

It was after two before we got on and we lasted across the city and got off to find lunch near the Mercado of San Miguel - a really cool market - though we ended up having lunch down the street.

We hopped on the bus again and got back near the Prado when we jumped off. Martha, Beth and Fred went to a museum and I bugged out and went back to our hotel to take a nap and rest. When Martha came back we went to La Caterdal around the corner from our hotel on Calle de Jerónimo and ended up talking to a young couple from Atlanta who were just starting their trip. We had a lovely duck tapas, a refreshing change from what had become a pretty predictable and limited set of choices. Afterwards we walked around the area to a place in Santa Anna plaza.

Saturday, November 17

Last day in Spain. Martha had mapped out an itinerary. After the hotel breakfast we went to get the CBD cream for Larry across the Grand Via in Malasagna - but it was closed at 11:45 when it was supposed to be open at 11:00. This is the kind of casualness that drives Americans crazy. I decided to come back later.

We started walking to the southwest section of town called Latina through Plaza Mayor. It had a cute neighborhood feel and we made a point of walking through the back streets.

From there we headed east, again through back streets, over to the park by the Prado - the Parque de El Retiro. It was a welcome relief from the crowds and noise. The trees had changed colors, there were leaves on the ground and the temperature was a pleasant mid-60s. We aimed for the main lake in the park with rowboats on the water and lovers in the lanes.

After strolling around the lake we snuggled up on a bench to just sit and watch the clouds and time go by. Then indulged in gelato to tide us over until dinner.

Martha had wanted to see the Prado, the major art museum in Madrid. So I left her to that while I headed back to Malasagna to get Larry the CBD cream. In walking over there I also found a cannabis/Amsterdam store that seemed to actually sell pot, cookies, candies and all sorts of novelties. I would have bought some, but worried about getting it back home.

Going through town was frequently a challenge because of the crowds. Other than occasionally in New York, I’ve never experienced the human congestion that seemed to be everywhere. It really started to frustrate us.

When I got back to our hotel I went across the “street” to a British-style pub for a beer. Then back to our room where I got wrapped up in a Grisham novel.

When Martha came back we chilled out then went out for our last dinner in Spain. We got as far as next door where we had a paella with full-bodied prawns. Again, having to chase down the waiter to get another glass of wine and the bill.

When we did pay and leave we went to Santa Anna Plaza again - only a short walk. The narrow streets were jammed, as were all the cafes and bars. We found un upscale place - Ana Santa Anna - and were seated at the bar for a nice dessert and coffee. We were amused by all the young stylish Spaniards, including the gaggles of young women all dolled up - a fancy girls night out, no doubt.

Then back to our room to pack and get ready for our flight home. Adios to Madrid and Spain.