Spain in April (April 4 - 15) - Part 2

Andalucía

Córdoba

A high speed AVE train whisked me comfortably and efficiently to Southern Spain, where at once I was immersed in the overpowering scent of citrus blossoms. Along an avenue of tangerine trees through a long park I breathed in the uplifting aromas as I headed into the medieval quarter of Córdoba. City workers were raking up the hundreds of fallen fruit, and tossing them into bins containing green waste.


Exiting the park I followed a crowd and found myself at a fortress. This was the Alcazar de los Reyes Cristianos built by Alfonso XI in 1328. It was my introduction to Mudejar architecture, a style combining Islamic and Christian elements. Apart from the Hall of Mosaics, and the marble courtyard the building underwhelmed. But stepping outside, I was captivated by the gardens. Linear and geometric arrangements of flowers, shrubs and trees were unlike anything I'd seen before. A deliberate attempt to delight all senses was evident. Inviting pathways rewarded with textures, colors, sounds and scents emanating from fountains, shallow pools, artistic topiary (hedges shaped into Greek vases), and spring blooms.

Heading into Córdoba's medieval quarter, I hiked across the ancient Roman Bridge over the Guadalquivir River to admire the cluster of monuments near the Mezquita-Catedral, the city's main attraction.

The Triunfo de San Rafael commanded close-up inspection, as did the mosaic design around the fountain in the square around it. The need for lunch propelled me into the utterly charming town center. Marching up and down narrow, cobbled lanes, I finally found a restaurant with an actual vegetarian dish from its menu of blended Italian and Spanish cuisine. The regional risotto I sampled would have been delicious had it not been over salted! Anyway, it restored my energy, and I was ready to be wowed by the famous 8th century mosque that became a cathedral in the 12th century.

The Mezquita- Catedral de Córdoba combines eras and cultures. With the original structure mostly preserved, unlike in other cities, it's a rare example of Islamic architecture in Spain.

Mosque-Cathedral, Córdoba

Entering the building is a dramatic experience due to the 850 columns supporting arches and creating a series of arcades. That heightened sense of awe remained with me as I attempted to absorb the ornate, elaborate sections of this enormous monument. Right in the middle of this mosque Christian invaders in the 16th century built a grand cathedral. The result is a marriage of Islam and Christianity.

Seville 

Every once in a while I arrive in a new city and instantly envision it as a potential future home. Sevilla felt that way. Despite an unusual April chill I felt a summer vibe when I arrived on Saturday early evening. Tapas bars served drinks al fresco; the many squares were alive with clusters of people of all ages; shoppers clogged the pedestrianized avenues; and flocks of tourists hovered around monuments. There was no doubt that I was going to love my time here.
On Sunday morning, under a deep blue sky, I stood in line for two hours to see the city's most famous monument, the Réal Alcazar. The least boring 2 hours of waiting to buy tickets I'd ever experienced! I was surrounded by breathtaking architecture. The air smelled of orange blossoms. A religious parade carrying floats and accompanied by a brass band created a bit of atmosphere. After they went off, the young couple behind me in the queue struck up a conversation with me. They were from Washington D.C., a lawyer and a Georgetown University employee, so of course there was no shortage of interesting topics to cover until we reached the gates of the palace.

The Réal Alcazar was built by Moorish workers from Granada in the 14th century for a Christian ruler. What a perfect setting for a movie, I thought, when I entered this stupendous former palace.

Réal Alcazar, Seville

Actually, I learned later that this palace was indeed used for Seasons 5 and 6 in the Game of Thrones!
Going from room to room, through arched hallways and across marble patios, I gaped and gasped and exclaimed. Moorish, Gothic, Renaissance and Mudejar architectural styles were employed to create this marvel. Even more impressive than the building were the sprawling gardens. A scaled up, more elaborate version of the one I'd seen in Córdoba. Again, geometry and symmetry produced arresting artistic designs.

Giralda Tower, Seville

Sevilla's other "must see" attraction is the largest Gothic Cathedral in Europe. It was quite the experience to see the grandness that resulted from overzealous Christians. Christopher Columbus's casket drew a thick crowd of tourists for some reason. The Giralda Tower is the only remaining part of the original mosque, Christian invaders having destroyed everything else. You go up a series of ramps, not steep staircases (!) to the top. Looking down for a bird's eye-view it was the colorful Mudejar style domes that stood out among Sevilla's mainly white buildings.

Wandering around the city is an absolute joy due to its thoughtful layout. There are wide pedestrian sidewalks and separate bicycle lanes. Heading toward the Guadalquivir River I past colorful flower beds around fountains on road islands and avenues of blossoming citrus trees. A detour into the Maria Luisa Park led me to Plaza de España. On this mild spring day street musicians and chirpy tourists livened up the square. The half circle neo Mudejar building was quite a dazzler. Especially with a moat in front of it. I crossed one of the cute bridges, entered the building, and trotted down the covered hallway. Back on the street I headed to the river and strolled along the bank. The Habanera from Bizet's Carmen rang in mind. Probably because I was seeing signs for a bullfighting ring. Nevertheless the tune mirrored my joy.

I didn't go out of my way to explore the food scene in this city. But I'd read about the Barranco Food Market overlooking the Guadalquivir River and knew I had to check it out. In this glass and iron structure (designed by Gustave Eiffel) I devoured my best tortilla (the Spanish grated potato dish) which was layered with ratatouille. A freshly made spinach empanada followed. Another winner! This market, smaller and less crowded than the one in Madrid, focused on upscale artisanal cuisine. Plus it had inviting indoor and outdoor seating with river views. Yup, I could live in Seville!

On my third and last evening I felt this sentiment again. I was at the tapas bar next door to my hotel, sipping a glass of red wine out on the heated terrace. Two male Dutch teachers were finishing up their meal at the table near mine. "Ik wil graag betalen," one of them said to the waiter. The waiter nodded and went off. I smiled at them. "He understood Dutch," I said.
They smiled back at me and one of them said, "You did too. Are you from Holland?"
And this question launched us into a lengthy and hearty conversation covering topics from Apartheid South Africa to the European Union to Nationalism to the state of American politics. They were high school history teachers on a field trip in Spain with their students. And they spoke perfect English as did most people from the Netherlands. An entertaining hour flew by. How could you not love a city that draws interesting visitors?

Ronda

El Tajo Gorge, Ronda

A two and a half hour bus journey from Sevilla to Ronda took me through picturesque mountain and pastoral scenery. I even caught a glimpse of pink flamingos by a lake on the route. Despite drizzly weather, the ride was superb. After checking in to my chíc boutique hotel, the weather turned positively foul. Heavy rain and blustery wind confined me to my hotel room most of the day. In the evening before dinner the storm dissipated and I managed to head out to the famous El Tajo Gorge. Ronda's appeal comes from its dramatic location, on either side of this deep gorge. Bathed in a post storm dying daylight, it looked like the setting of a mystery novel. From the entrance to the bridge I struggled against a gale to stay upright. After a quick couple of photos I staggered into a nearby bar to catch my breath back. The exceptional local wine from vineyards just a few miles away, and some tapas - a local version of tortilla - in a lowly lit, cosy bar restored me.

In the morning I was pleased to see a mostly blue sky. At the hotel dining room an extravagant buffet breakfast greeted me. And so a wonderful day was foreshadowed. I stuffed myself with grated tomato on toast, banana, yogurt, freshly squeezed orange juice, and strong coffee. I needed mucho calories for all the walking on my agenda for the day.
With the sun shining and the air completely calm, when I arrived at the exact same spot as the previous evening, the bridge and gorge looked utterly different. I gazed at the impressive cliff walls, vibrantly lit up by the sun. Bus loads of tourists swarmed around the Puente Nuevo Bridge snapping photos with their smartphones. I crossed the bridge and wandered through the cobbled lanes of the Old Town. Then I hiked down a trail to the bottom of the gorge and looked up to astounding views. Back up I found a trail along the balcony from where I could better appreciate the sheer cliff walls and see the gurgling river.

Ronda had a lot more to offer. Plaza del Socorro, with its Hercules fountain and attractive buildings, was another highlight here. It gave me an opportunity for a beautiful Ronda photo that had nothing to do with the gorge!

Granada

Granada is all about the Alhambra. When you aren't in the palace gawking at medieval moorish splendor, you are hiking to various viewpoints to admire it from afar. A highlight for me was the view from the Mirador de San Nicolas. Framed by the snowcapped Sierra Nevada mountains, this commanding fortress/palace stands proudly on a hill above the city. I imagined historical characters within those walls carrying out their lives of intrigue.
Since everyone who had been to the Alhambra had nothing but glowing superlatives to describe it, I had super high expectations on my visit. Nevertheless, as I walked through the Nasrid Palaces I found myself constantly gasping. Painstakingly intricate carvings and designs, and breathtaking integration of outdoor spaces featuring courtyards, fountains and gardens demonstrated how immensely creative and sophisticated the Moors had been.
My visit started in the adjacent sprawling Generalife gardens. The style, after the palace gardens I'd seen in Cordoba and Sevilla, no longer felt novel. Despite this, and despite persistent rain and wintry temperatures, the beauty, and the fastidious attention to symmetry and design, were most rewarding.

I enjoyed my non-Alhambra activities in Granada too. Strolling along the cobbled, pedestrianized Carrera del Darro beside the skinny river, I past interesting architectural sights and cute souvenir shops. I whiled away a couple of pleasant hours checking out the colossal cathedral, followed by a visit to the Alcaicería. This Great Bazaar, a bit like a Moroccan souk, was originally a silk and spice market. It felt quite exotic to weave through the narrow shopping lanes, though each vendor seemed to carry the same scarves, leather, jewelry, and other mass produced souvenirs. Granada, it has to be said, unabashedly capitalized on its tourist traffic. Paella, Flamenco dancing, and whatever else a tourist expected to find in Spain could be found here effortlessly.

My Spain trip was almost over. Back in Madrid I took a train to ...

Toledo

I spent the better part of a day in this town made famous by El Greco. Strolling through its pedestrianized heart I took in its well preserved architecture.



Its history included Roman, Jewish, Moorish and Christian occupations, and they all contributed to the city's physical appearance. I enjoyed stepping outside the city walls and down to the river for city views. It was a mild spring day and I clocked close to 15 miles in and around the city.

I averaged close to ten miles a day in my 11 days in Spain. Every city I visited was pedestrian friendly. Walking through interesting areas was rewarding and thoroughly enjoyable. And spring time is the best time.

Spain in April (April 4 - 15, 2018) - Part 1

Madrid

I arrived in Madrid at 6:15 A.M. in pitch darkness after an above average overnight flight from Johannesburg on Iberia Airlines. An express bus plopped me at Atocha train station at around 8:00 A.M. when daylight finally appeared. On my 20 minute walk alongside Retiro Park to my Airbnb accommodation I witnessed the city awakening to another normal work day. Smartly dressed locals were hurrying off to their offices, aromas of coffee and fresh baked pastries wafted out of cafés and Calle de Alfonso XII thrummed with traffic. I felt an instant rush of high as the energy of a big European city (especially on a crisp spring morning) seeped into my being.



I couldn't wait to get my bearings in this city. In the afternoon, arrival necessities dispensed with, I penetrated the pedestrianized historic quarter. From the Prado (two blocks from my Airbnb) on to Calle de las Huertas to Puente del Sol, Madrid's vibrancy sent my mood skyward. Strolling along Calle del Arenal, a bookstore with stacks of books displayed on outside tables drew my attention. Turning into the narrow cobbled lane, I discovered a long line of people waiting to be seated at the famous San Gitanes for their legendary churros with hot chocolate. Since it was 5:30 PM, hours before the acceptable time to have dinner in Spain, I yielded to temptation and partook in one of life's unmissable experiences -- pigging out on fresh, crisp churros and thick, steaming chocolate!

Fortified, I proceeded on to Plaza Mayor, Madrid's most famous square, as advertised by the swarm of tourists. Taking in the impressive burgundy three story steepled building enclosing the square, and the equestrian statue in the middle I was swept into past eras. Much of Madrid's history had occurred right here.
I needed to walk off those churro and chocolate calories and felt grateful for a blue sky and a spring chill. Exiting the square I stumbled upon the San Gabriel Mercado. Stalls displaying mouthwatering tapas, tempting drinks, and  irresistible pastries pulled in the crowds. Clearly the place to indulge in Madrid. Though how you'd place an order through a wall of people and be heard in the din was a head scratcher. Anyway, I'd already figured out a killer dinner earlier in the day.

My accommodation in an apartment on Calle Antonio Maura -- half a block from Retiro Park and close to the Prado Museum -- gave me access to a kitchen. This morning, after a shower and rest, I had gone to a grocery market where I acquired Manchego cheese, white asparagus (just in season in Europe), crusty bread rolls and blood oranges. So, after my long, long saunter, I returned to the apartment for a simple dinner of sautéed asparagus (plump and fleshy) topped with local cheese, served on a roll. Delicious! But something was missing. Wine.

Right after I swallowed the last morsel, the artist, from whom I was renting a room, and I hopped down to the tapas bar next door to the apartment building. It was on the sidewalk, sheltered by glass walls. Dusk had begun, and the lights in the nearby museum neighborhood were starting to twinkle. The perfect setting to sample a full bodied Spanish Rioja. The friendly waitress offered us free tapas of cheese sandwich rolls, but we'd already eaten big dinners. So she brought over a bowl of local green olives. Tangy and fruity, they were a delicious accompaniment to the satisfying wine, which, get this, was only €2.90 a glass! I couldn't have asked for a better first day in Spain.

Unlike Barcelona, Madrid felt more compact. Attractive architecture, graceful squares with fountains and sculpture, and a vibrant mix of locals and tourists made exploring the city endlessly entertaining. I spent three days in this city, then went down to Andalucía for six days, and returned to Madrid for my last two days in Spain.

On one of my explorations of the historic quarter I followed Rick Steves' guided walk starting at Plaza Mayor. Along Calle Mayor I paused in front of interesting buildings like the  town hall to admire its symmetrical square towers. Entering Calle de Bailén I gaped at the enormous Almudena Cathedral. When I saw the long line for entry to the Royal Palace I crossed it off my 'to do' list. The faćade was impressive enough. I proceeded to the attractive park across, the Plaza de Oriente,  strolled passed the row of statues of Visigoth kings and over to the fountain for a close up of the equestrian sculpture, the park's centerpiece.

At the Opera House I rested my weary legs at the café. Despite gloves my fingers were frozen. Churros and hot chocolate warmed me up and restored my energy. I resumed my self-guided tour. Plaza Isabel II came next, with its statue of a queen who was a patron of the arts in front of the opera house. Entering Calle del Arenal at 6:00 PM I merged with the hordes of people on their evening paseo. The shops lining this wide, pedestrianized avenue buzzed with shoppers. I darted into El Corte Ingles, took the escalators to the rooftop cafe for a view of Puerta del Sol. This bustling heart of Madrid projected its character. I felt thrilled to be here. Not only because of the city's physical beauty and energy, but also because of its outstanding museums.


At the Prado Museum the room of major paintings by Hieronymus Bosch hogged an hour (and could easily have gulped more). The much hyped triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights was almost impossible to see through a perpetual wall of tourists. Fortunately, Bosch's other triptych, The Hay Wain, was inexplicably ignored. I was able to linger in front of it and study the colorful, dense imagery depicting morality in scary ways. It took effort to tear myself away from this room of extraordinary paintings. Following Rick Steves self-guided tour I trotted over to the various halls challenging my brain with the great works of Velásquez, Rubens, El Greco, Goya, and other famous masters. Hours later, when I stepped out into the early afternoon chill, that unanswerable question returned to my head as it did every time I visited a huge museum. How are you supposed to appreciate and assimilate such an impossibly large number of rich paintings?

Madrid's other famous museums were lightweights, with instantly pleasing works by the Surrealists, the Cubists, and the Impressionists. Arriving at the Reina Sofia at opening time allowed me to ponder over Picasso's Guernica in a quiet room. Yes, we've all seen this painting in books and on T-shirts, etc. But gazing at the actual mural, the impact felt visceral. Surely every politician and soldier should be mandated to study this painting to see the agony, the heart wrenching pain caused by wars. My sombre mood was quickly elevated by the many Salvador Dali paintings. Works by Miró, Juan Gris, Braque, and Kandinsky made for a joyful wander around this museum. The zeitgeist of 20th century Dada-ism was enhanced by Buñuel movies playing in nearby rooms to match the works.

At the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, which houses a collection purchased from a baron, I saw some painting by practically every famous European artist I'd ever heard of. The decent number of Impressionists and Post-impressionists were especially satisfying. There was a special Joaquín Sorollo exhibition, exposing me to a new artist and challenging me to appreciate portraits of boring people from the past.

Three excellent museums in three days put me in a state of euphoria. It turned the delightful act of sipping a glass of full-bodied Rioja on the terrace of Ramses Madrid at Plaza Independencia almost spiritual. Seated at their heated terrace, with a view of Puerta Alcalá, and a pleasant vibe from spirited, elegantly attired locals at nearby tables, I was grateful to be shielded from harsh realities. A young suited waiter brought me warm, seeded bread rolls, a bowl of olives, and cubes of Manchego cheese drizzled with olive oil. I ordered a roasted beet salad to complement these free tapas. My full dinner at the ungodly hour of 8:00! And what a satisfying meal it was! A jewel in a city full of jewels.


My high opinion of the city was reinforced a week later, after I'd returned from six days in Andalucía. I was strolling through magnificent Retiro Park on a beautiful, spring Saturday. Most of Madrid appeared to be at this park, engaged in a host of activities -- rowing boats on the lake, snacking and sipping beer at the cafés, French kissing, snapping photos, jogging, playing music, sitting on benches, people watching, walking. I spent hours sauntering along trails that took me through landscaped and natural vegetation, pausing to admire the sculpture and fountains. When I came to the huge lake and gazed at the semicircular colonnade bordering it, I thought it would be this image that would linger in my mind as I bid this city adios the next day.