more rejected photos from Spain

Again, these are pictures that are not going to make my official 'show', for various reasons:

Girona - view from old city walls:

Optical illusion painting, from the Dali museum, Figueres:


Room in Alcazar, Segovia:


Roman mosaic, Empuries:



I have the official show down to about 200 slides. Had to cut out many that I wish I could have included, but I don't want the audience to revolt.

what jet lag?

It took four days, but we are feeling pretty much normal for the first time, today. Funny how we adjusted to Spain time quickly, but readjusting to Portland time has been difficult. So many factors here, it's impossible to say why this is so.

Moving right along organizing my photos. I am up to the Barcelona phase and then I'll be ready to try them out on the usual suspects. Here are a few that won't make the cut to the official show, because they are duplicates of a better shot:

The cathedral in Segovia:

Girona:

Peratallada, from the terrace of our hostel:

The cloister at Tarragona cathedral:

Spires of Sagrada Familia, Barcelona:

jet lag is beginning to lag

We've been home for two days now, and things are starting to approach normal.

Still, I was awake from 2 to 5 this morning. Wonder how long that will continue?

Working on organizing my Spain photos. I promise I will never make you watch all of them.

*****************************

we are home

bye-bye, barcelona

We began the day holding about 102,75 euros and a metro pass with 8 rides still on it. The goal was to finish the day with 0 rides on the metro pass, and as few euros as possible.

We have apparently succeeded.

We took the metro to the big flea-market (Encants) where, last Friday morning, we bought a few chachkas. One of the more interesting stalls, though, was a guy who was selling a large number of original art pieces, by real Catalan artists. Many were framed, but he also had many pieces unframed. We had looked at a couple of items the other day, but didn't buy anything.

This morning, we attempted to find him again, amid the incredible bustle of the market. We did, and, a half-hour later, after much haggling, I am the owner of a small original semi-abstract oil by Carlos Alonso-Eugenia, born in Barcelona 1929 and now dead. The original price was 120 (the dealer said it would go for 150 in a gallery) but Karen, with flair and determination, got it down to 80. I am happy, and Art Man seemed content.

Next, on our way out of the market, she spied a decorative metal tray, with arabic writing on the back. The guy wanted 40 euros, but, since we only had 20 left, she offered 20. He scoffed, then, as we shrugged and walked away, he said 'OK'.

Now we were down to about 2,75 euros. We took the metro back to our neighborhood, dropped off our new treasures, then went back to L'Oronete, the neighborhood bistro where we had a great lunch on the first day. They take credit cards, so lunch was able to proceed.

For first course, Karen had the standard Catalan salad (lettuce, olives, assorted hams, etc), and I had a very delicious, hot, bubbly casserole of stuffed red-peppers in an eggy, cheesy sauce. It was major comfort food.

For second course, Karen had merluza (hake) and I had rabbit, which tasted like very good chicken. It was a delicious lunch, accompanied by white wine, good flan (Karen had a pear for dessert), and two Cafe Americanos. 21 euros, thanks to Visa.

Back at The Patio, we rested, then met the new couple just arriving -- from Portland! Small world. We chatted and it was nice.

By the middle of the afternoon, we were ready to go out for our final tourist swing. We took the metro down to the Liceu stop, walked thru La Boqueria, the large, touristy market, walked along the crowded, touristy Rambla, then into the quieter streets of the Old City.

The neighborhood just to the east of the main cathedral was the old Jewish quarter, and we walked its dim, quiet, cavern-like streets. The occasional marker confirmed that this was the place. I know my ancestors lived in Toledo, and I believe they ended up in Salonika, and Barcelona was the logical departure point for Mediterranean ports, so I imagined my ancestors strolling those streets, as their final days in Spain approached (quickly).

It may not have actually happened that way, of course, but it's easy to think so.

It was now late afternoon. We took the metro back to our neighborhood (using the final rides on our metro pass). We popped into the Internet cafe just around the corner, to login to Delta and print boarding passes. I paid the 25 cents for 15 minutes of computer time (significantly diminishing my remaining cash).

I got pretty far into the check-in process before Delta insisted on my retyping our passport numbers (which they certainly already have, and which I did not have on me). 13 minutes left!

I ran back to our room, grabbed the documents, ran back, completed the check-in, and printed the boarding passes. Of course, it printed 3 pages of garbage along with the passes, so that was 7 pages at 20 cents/page.

I now have about 4 coins in my pocket, worth less than 1 euro. Mission accomplished!

Back at The Patio, we chatted more with the Portland couple. I sold them my Barcelona guide-book (still with its Powells sticker) for 5 dollars (US), and gave them the unused coupons, maps, and other tourist info, that we will no longer be using.

It's now 6 pm. I have started my final packing. In a couple of hours we will go out for our final dinner (as long as they take Visa), and, tomorrow morning, Tony will drive us to the airport. We should be home before midnight.

As Karen and I were walking thru the metro on our way back, late this afternoon, I said something like '...and remember the time we went to Spain?'

She said, 'oh yes, I remember that trip - what year was that?'

another barcelona day

We took the metro to the Rambla neighborhood, looking for another flea-market. The flea part was pretty meager, but there was a thriving, regular coin and stamp market, with dozens of tables serving the curiosity and competitive needs of many buyers and sellers.

It was quite a scene, and you definitely had the feeling that this has been going on for years, every Sunday. Didn't buy anything, although one table that specialized in (genuine?) Roman, Etruscan, and Moroccan coins was especially cool.

From there, we wandered over to the Cathedral neighborhood, via the 'Placa de George Orwell'. One of the books I had brought with me on this trip (have I not mentioned this previously?) is 'Homage to Catalonia', his ultimately blistering chronicle of his time serving in the Republican army during the Civil War, and, especially, his surreal time here in Barcelona. You should read this, if you haven't. Strangely, no plaque or explanation of why that plaza has that name. Does anyone know?

Following directions in Rick Steves' book, we found the tiny side-street near the cathedral, where you turn a corner and there, surrounded by buildings is a little, quiet space occupied by four original columns from the Roman temple on this site. It's quite eerie. The place is called 'Mount Taber' and is the highest point in the original Roman town.

A couple of blocks away and it's the 21st century again, with traffic and the bustling of tourists.
We hopped on the Blue tourist bus (remember, we bought 2-day passes) and rode it up to the 'Block of Discord', where 4 Modernist buildings, one by Gaudi, compete with each other. The crowds were enormous, but we peeked into one of the houses to see the interesting architectural details, before hopping on a Red tourist bus, to sit for a while.

This bus took us back to Sagrada Familia, which is where we first picked it up yesterday (was it only yesterday?). This time, as we approached Sagrada, we could see an astonishing tide of humanity. A lot of people milling around. We felt sorry for the people in the REALLY long line waiting to get on the Tourist Bus, because NOBODY on our bus got off to visit the church. It must have been a long, hot wait for a lot of people there today.

However, we sailed along, and it was grand, sitting on top as the bus winds its way thru the various neighborhoods. Our destination was the Park Guell, Gaudi's failed urban-living development, now a public park.

Lots of people here, too. That was an understatement.

Despite the crowds, we managed to walk uphill in the park to a reasonably quiet place, where we spread out our lunch on a bench and munched away, while first a hammer-dulcimer player and then a violinist played music for the folks (CDs available). It was actually very, very nice, and the park itself is a surreal Disney-land like experience, with more people than you can imagine.

After we ate, we spent a lot of time wandering the many paths, climbing high above the park entrance, to a great viewpoint overlooking the entire Barcelona basin. We could see for miles and miles and miles, the blue Mediterranean off in the distance, and landmarks like Sagrada Familia and Montjuic orienting the view.

By now it was almost 3 pm, and we'd been doing our tourist thing, once again, for many hours.

We got back on the Tourist Bus (luckily, no wait, and seats on top!) and rode around the Red route, as we had done yesterday. It was getting pretty chilly by the time we reached the stop near our home. We walked the few block to our familiar neighborhood, and now we are there, having had a cup of nice mint tea, lying in bed, me typing and Karen reading the thriller she picked up in Tarragona.

We will relax a bit, then head out for some dinner. Tomorrow is the last day of this trip.

weather has changed

Writing this early Sunday morning from the terrace of our B&B, wearing my polar-fleece.

We are aiming for another flea-market today, and maybe more Gaudi stuff. We have seen so much art on this trip that it's a bit overwhelming.

Good thing our B&B (The Patio) is away from all that (about 10 blocks east of the Sants station).

Yesterday was our bad-food day, which is why the normal obsessive description of every bite was missing.

Time for some coffee.

more fun in barcelona

We got up early and were 8th in line at 8:45, at the Sagrada Familia. When the doors opened at 9, we headed to the lift, and were in the first lift to the top that day. The views of the city the immense scaffolding, the bizarrely-ornamented towers and facades, the workers casually strolling around at great heights -- it was all just right.

We stayed up there until the crush of arriving sight-seers drove us to the stairs down, and down, and down, and down, back to ground level. Dizzying and fun. Inside the under-construction nave, you can see the plaster forms and skeleton of the someday-to-be-finished cathedral.

In the museum, it was interesting to see a sequence of photos, going back to 1908. It's come a long way, but there's still plenty to be done. It was interesting to see, in the museum, some large sculptures from the original building, that had to be replaced in the 1990s.

From there, we bought the 2-day pass to the daunting Tourist Bus, which, actually, turned out to be kinda fun. The Red route took us, with great seats on top, across the northern section of town. We got out at the Pedralbes monestary, and found its 14th century nave filling with somber, well-dressed folks. A choir was rehearsing, and at noon, a service started, with choral music and what appeared to be a memorial service. We sat in the back for a long time, enjoying the sounds and the light streaming thru the lovely stained-glass.

Continuing on the Red bus, we got off at the palace containing the museums of Decorative Arts and Ceramics. We didn't pay any admission, and nobody asked us to, so we just wandered around. It was pretty interesting, and the building itself, and the grounds, were quite nice.

Eventually, we changed to the Blue Bus, and took its entire route, not getting back to the B&B until almost 7 pm. We were getting tired, so we only got out once, at the Miro museum, and its promise of total wackiness was fulfilled. What a wild and crazy guy - you have to admire vision and creativity like that.

We haven't decided where the Tourist Bus will take us tomorrow, but today was a lot easier than the past two, with more riding and much less walking. Then why are we tired?

Going out for dinner soon. Two more full days, and then we head home.

basking in barcelona

After a proper English breakfast (i.e. no ham), we set off for the local flea-market, which happens several times a week.

Navigating the metro was easy, and we soon joined the throngs, looking for treasures. We bought several things, Karenh once again proving that her haggling skills are superb.

After hours of examining everything in minute detail, we headed off for lunch, ending up at a neighborhood place for the menu del dia. I had a kind of casserole of mashed potato, cheese, bacallo, and paprika, followed by a bottifara (sausage) accompanied by a kind of eggplant fritter, a beer, and lemon ice-cream. Karen had a lovely salad with tuna, egg, olives ad a ham slice, followed by a grilled lamb chop that she pronounced better than the vastly-more-expensive lamb we had in Madrid, so long ago. I had a taste and, of course, she was right. 8,90 euros per person.

Satisfied, we walked the few blocks to the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's astonishing, unfinished monument to obsession and religious experience. The crowds were preposterous, so we left the area soon, and headed, by metro, down to the old city, in search of the cathedral Santa Maria del Mar, which, rumor has it, is one of the best around.

It was closed for the afternoon break. We were feeling that we were striking out.

We walked the few blocks, through the dim, narrow streets, to the Picasso museum, which was actually quite fascinating, concentrating primarily on early work.

The rooms traced his development, with lots of biographical background. For example, there was one large painting that, at age 16, won second place (!) in a Madrid competition.

For me, the best gallery contained his many wonderfaul variations on the famous Velasquez painting we had seen at the Prado, 'Las Meninas'. Each brilliant variation was like a glimpse into a parallel universe. I loved it.

We returned to the cathedral - it was open and amazing. Begun in the 1320's, it is impossibly high and wide, with graceful vaulting soaring above the forest of massive pillars. There were 'a few' stained-glass windows, too, especially the western-facing rose masterpiece, from the 15th century.

After a bit we left, walked around the harbor, amid more amazing 19th century buildings, got a drink and some tapas, then returned to the cathedral, where we now sit, listening to a gorgeous vocal concert.

The voices of the two dozen singers are echoing soothing religious music, in this beautifully-lit, 14th century setting.

It's better than you can imagine.

barcelona!

We spent a couple of hours browsing the open air market there along the Tarragona rambla, before returning to the hotel, checking out, rolling our bags to the train station, and boarding the train north to Barcelona. It took about an hour, and was very pleasant, traveling along the shores of the Mediterranean.

We walked the few blocks from the Sants station to our home for the next 5 days, a B&B called 'The Patio', and it is just like home. Run by an english woman and her spanish husband, it is an oasis in a very big city. Elizabeth welcomed us, with lots of information about things to do and places to eat, which was good, since we were hungry.

We went to a neighborhood bistro where it was 'paella day' and ordered the Menu de Dia. We both had the paella for the first course, and it was pretty darn good. For the second, Karen had salmon and I had chicken (which was served with a piece of potato and a beautifully grilled sweet red pepper. On the menu, it said the inclusive price covered either water, a beer, or wine. I ordered a beer and a nice tall one arrived. Karen ordered white wine, expecting a glass, and they brought a bottle. We expected to be charged extra for it, but, believe it or not, it was all included. Chocolate mousse for dessert made for a VERY satisfying lunch. 20 euros - a bargain!

We walked the 10 or so blocks east to Casa Mila, one of the Gaudi treasures. The tour is quite worthwhile, especially cavorting around on the bizarre rooftop. Look it up. Really, a fascinating place, and a great introduction to Gaudi for us.

We took the metro back to our home, stopping first at a nearby grocery store to buy some provisions for a light supper, which we just finished. Four more full days here in Barcelona.

Not bad.

Last night in tarragona

We had a nice dinner at a busy, friendly Basque restaurant in the Placa de la Font, called Txantxangorri (just try to say that after a bottle of wine, I couldn't).

We shared a nice salad, with warm goat cheese, apples, bacon and walnuts, then Karen had an egg dish with mushrooms and foie (it's hard to say what that was), and I had cuttlefish in a mysterious, salty sauce.

The place was bustling, with a surprising number of tables occupied by women.

Instead of dessert there, we walked back to the hotel, stopping at a gellato place for a small, perfect cup of hazelnut ice-cream.

It's a lovely night, warm and happy. Time for bed.

Tomorrow we leave Tarragona to begin the final, Barcelona phase.

Some fun, eh?

on the trail to nowhere

Tarragona, like Segovia, boasts a Roman aqueduct as one of its many claims to fame. Naturally, we had to check it out.

After another meager, expensive breakfast, we found the bus and took the 10 minute ride to the 'Pont del Diablo' stop, beside a busy highway.

A 10 minute walk brought us to the aqueduct, but it (like much of spain) is under rennovation, so acces was limited and giant scaffolding covered much of the structure. What we saw was ok, if a 2000 year old engineering marvel is your cup of tea. However, compared to Segovia's, this "Devil's Bridge" is much less devilish.

The park had a network of trails, so we hiked around a bit, and it was pleasant, to say the most. After a while, we turned around, and made our way back to the bus stop, and the next bus was on time, to the minute.

Back in town, we grabbed a filling, cheap lunch at one of the always-reliable kebab joints, then went back to the hotel for a siesta.

An hour later we packed up a lot of stuff and returned to the beach, where we now sit. Karen just emerged from the surf and now it's my turn.

it's terrific in tarragona

We got coffee and a nosh at a sunny outdoor café on the Rambla, and then Karen was hypnotically drawn to the massive outdoor market that filled the Rambla, offering everything from cheap cosmetics to socks and underwear, kitchen utensils, and lots of clothing, from cheap to surprisingly not-so-cheap.

We bought something for someone back home, then headed to one of the civic attractions, as mentioned in all guide-books and web sites: the walk along the old city walls.

Unfortunately, a large part is closed on weekdays, so the 3 euros apiece didn't buy us much. My recommendation is to skip it and head for the Cathedral.

For a bit more (3,80) per person, we got to immerse ourselves in art and religion spanning 1200-1800, and the free audio guides were very good, if a little too detailed at times. Great stuff, especially the amazing cloister, with its ingenious, varied carvings

By then, we were ready for lunch, and found the right place, downhill from the cathedral. It was a teeny bistro called 'La Teulas' and they did right by us.

For the first course, we both had huevos del plato, a casserole with two eggs, chorizo and tomatoes, baked and served bubbling, with bread.

Second course: Karen had a slab of grilled beef with herbed potatoes and I had a delicious creamy rissoto, with red peppers and other subtle additions

Time for tourism in tarragona

We did find the kebab joint we passed earlier and it was cheap, filling and actually good. Then we went to sleep. Sometimes, that's all you can do.

It's now Tuesday morning - we arrived in Madrid two weeks ago today, and, apparently, done a lot since then.

It's a lovely morning - a cool fresh breeze blows from the blue, endless Mediterranean, and there are both coffee and Roman antiquities in our future.

What could be better? See ya' later.

too tired in tarragona

Yes, our room is nice, overlooking the Mediterranean, but our energy is very low.

We walked around the neighborhood just a little, and sat on a bench on the Rambla, watching the parade of locals and tourists, while brushing off the persistent flies.

It's after 6 pm, and we haven't eaten much, but enthusiasm for another dinner of Spanish food, after 8 pm, is waning. We did pass a turkish kebab place earlier - wonder if we can find it again.

There's a McDonalds a few doors down, but I just can't.

time to tarry in tarragona

The train ride south from Figueres took about 3 hours, but we have found the hotel I reserved *months* ago, and I am sitting in the lobby, waiting 20 minutes for the perfect room to be ready.

Karen is sitting by the pool, soaking her feet. Tarragona looks like a beautiful place. We'll get settled and then check it out.

But first, a shout-out to friends: Kim, Barbra, Jane, Steve, Gail, Teri, and everyone else (you *can* leave a comment once in a while, you know), we miss you all.

Now, perhaps, a stroll by the Mediterranean...

The day of three 'onas'

Dinner was at 9, as usual, and was very good, as usual.

We were the only native english speakers at the table, but the charming young woman sitting across fom us had enough english to converse.

Even better, her significant-other, from Barcelona (whose english was pretty much limited to 'very good'), went thru my Barcelona guide-book with enthusiasm, circling every recommended site and restaurant.

This morning, we take the train south from Figueres, passing thru, in the course of two hours, Girona, Barcelona, and Tarragona.

I believe these are all the major onas. Let me know if there are others.

The end of the (bike) road

After a fine breakfast with the other guests, we scoffed at today's suggested bike-route for our tour. Who needs another 40 km of remote back roads, enchanting old villages and natural park paths? We have nothing to prove.

So, we slowly rolled along the area bike paths, winding our way into Figueres, by way of the little hamlet of L'Olvia, which we made a point of visiting in honor of the 19th birthday of our friend, Olivia.

In Figueres, we found the Rambla, much busier today than we found it, a week ago. We sat for a while, enjoying the scene, before picking an outdoor café for lunch.

It was mixed. I had a nice seafood salad (creamy dill dressing) and an unexciting-but-ok paella (will keep trying and comparing), while Karen had a nice fried turbot, accompanied by sauteed mushrooms and peppers, which she liked. Too bad the waiter was surly, but we got what we needed.

We headed back the way we came, again passing L'Olvia, ending up cycling the last km back to Baseia, arriving around 4.

We emptied our bicycle bags, took off our sweaty bicycle gear and clothes, and said goodbye to the bicycle part of this trip.

Total ridden: 204 km - not bad for a couple of baby-boomers going to seed.

We hit the swimming pool for a bit, then I lay out in the sun for a long time, reflecting on the following:

1) we did it (the biking)!

2) we are off to Tarragona

3) it's still 4 hours until dinner

4) there were over 20 flies crawling on my legs

5) my family has come a long way - driven out from Judaea by the Romans, driven out from Spain by the Catholic Monarchs (did you know my family lived in Toledo, until 1492?), driven out of Russia and Poland (by the Russians and Poles, obviously), only to have found a happy home in Upstate New York, USA.

I grew up there, and moved to Oregon in 1977, but that's another story.

The point is that it's great to be back in Spain, now that the Inquisition is over. I am having a much better time here than my ancestors did, when they had reached the end of their Spanish road.

ok, ok - so 'killing' was hyperbole

Still, would you have spent your valuable time reading a blog post entitled 'the minor discomforts of the jews'?

Honestly, though, yesterday's bike ride was difficult, considering the distance, rain, disorientation at times, hypoglycemia, and the final, mind-numbing 12 km.

We did have a pleasant evening last night. Can Navata is quite full of guests, mostly Spaniards. There is one English couple, and our hostess thoughtfully sat us together at the end of the long dining room table, where we had a nice chat about our bicycle holidays (they are doing one from a different UK company, so we compared route maps and guides).

As Karen is quite involved in the current US debate on Health Care reform, we also discussed the British NHS, its benefits, problems, and evolution. We all agreed that the US system is absurd. But you already know this.

Why were we the only guests at Can Massa last week, and seeing a full house this week? Tomorrow, October 12, is a Spanish national holiday - Columbus Day (just like home). How odd that that plucky Genoa sailor ended up being so beloved in both Spain and America. It makes sense for both countries, of course, since his successes were the basis for America's exaggerated sense of self-importance, and Spain's glorious 100 years of relatively unchallenged plundering in the New World. Things didn't go so well for Philip II after 1598, as I recall, but that's another story.

Karen is still in bed - I am down in the hostal library, enjoying the wifi on the netbook (much easier than tapping out these blog entries on my phone). She is pretty sore from yesterday's ordeal, and thinks her fingers will be permanently numb. Don't know what today will bring yet.

Tomorrow, we take the train south from Figueres to Tarragona, where the saga continues.

In another hour, it will be time for 'the breakfast of the jews'.

The killing of the jews - part 2

I could tell you about the nice dinner of assorted tapas last night, but you don't care, right?

You will remember some days ago, when we cycled thru the hamlet of Matajudaica ('The killing of the Jews'). There wasn't much there. It's the thought that counts.

It is now Saturday afternoon, around 5. We left Peratallada at 9 this morning.

We cycled north, along quiet roads to Gualta. It was cool and cloudy - Karen said it was going to rain on us. I hoped for the best, an annoying trait, under most conditions.

At Torroella de Montgri, we crossed a bridge over the river Ter, known to locals as 'The Bridge Over the River Ter', since it was built under Franco in 1940, using slave-labor supplied by defeated Republicans, back when Republicans were the good guys.

We got a little lost, following the complicated bike route thru the busy city, but eventually reached the outskirts and the countryside, when the rain hit.

Around Albons, we got drenched. Nothing to do but pedal on.

We reached the coast at L'Escala, and the rain clouds were already breaking up. By the time we got to the archeology museum at Empuries, the sun was shining and blue sky warmed our very damp clothes. About 25 km completed at this point.

We were getting tired.

We toured the extensive Greek and Roman ruins. This was the major settlement on the spanish coast, way back when (200 BC, to be more precise).

The museum had a lot of artifacts, some surprisingly obscene. Uphill in the Roman town, there were some interesting mosaics - the Rich really knew how to live (nothing new about that).

The public latrine sort of reminded me of Cycle Oregon, but that's another story.

By now it was well after noon, and we had many km to go, and energy was beginning to flag.

We cycled north along the coast, and, most fortunately, found a bustling restaurant in Sant Marti d'Empuries, across the square fom the old church, where a tumultuous wedding was taking place.

We needed that meal - we were only slightly more than half way.

We had a giant mound of steamed mussels, salads (mine with smoked salmon and Karen's, tempting the gods of Lactose Intolerance, with goat cheese). Also a beer, a coke, and two coffees - 35 euros.

Fortified, we resumed.

We biked along dirt roads thru a natural park, on and on under the hot sun, faithfully following the detailed turn-by-turn directions.

At Sant Pere Pescador, we crossed the river Fluvia, and began the final 12 km to Baseia.

Getting tired reading this? Just imagine living it.

The final couple of hours were mostly along uneven dirt roads, through farm-land, far from recognizable habitations. We did pass thru a couple of little towns, energy depleted and butts sore, and finally made the last turn for the final 1.1 km to Can Navata, our home for the next two days.

50 km today. We are beat, but were happy to see our bags waiting.

Karen hit the bed. I went immediately to the small swimming pool which, months ago, I had spied with Google Earth.

The water was cool, but I was ready for it. After a while, I got out and stretched out on a pool-side lounge-chair, where I have been laboriously tapping this out on my phone, while flies are crawling all over me, and I'm doing this All For You.

Dinner at 9 pm. Now, I must rest.