Category Archives: Travel stories

Encounters, adventures, happenings on my travels.

Of Cardinals, Kings and Toreros

Posted on by

La giralda, one of the largest cathedrals of the world, right up there with St. Peters in Rome and St. Pauls in London. Such an amazing structure, incorporates parts of an old mosque, it is Gothic and Moorish, all mixed up like every thing else in this city. I have been circling the outside everyday and being amazed. Today I went in to see what there was to see. It is grand and has the usual bloody history of cardinals and kings. Rich, rich in every corner, large, imposing and though an amazing structure it did not have the peace of a church, the Walls and stones were too steeped in gore and stories. Who ruled? Kings or Cardinals, it was a thin line of power, there where wheels within wheels, whispers, betrayals and Conspiracies. I wish the walls could tell. Guides have such a rote story that I never listen, one has to be very lucky to find one who actually knows the history and not one who has just learnt up the regular babble to spout forth.

There is romance and history and so many stories, some I know and more to be read at leisure and put in perspective now that I have seen the sites.

I was then on my way to the river and the bus stand to buy my ticket for tomorrow, but everything is so on top of each other and I just get so lucky that I found myself at the plaza de Los Torros. La Maestranza in Sevilla, Is the oldest bullring which was first used for bullfighting in 1765.

Though I don’t think I ever could watch a bull fight, it is such a huge tradition here that I had to go see where and how it happens. So, to see again… The guide was a young girl whose English sounded distinctly Spanish, I actually understood her Spanish better than the English!

A tradition that emerged to keep soldiers busy when they were not at war. Right up alongside jousts and hunts along came the bull fight. Did you know that if a bull ( that poor beset animal, that is hounded and poked half to death before ever the toreador gets to him) actually kills the man, the bull is then killed and his head is mounted, not only his, but also his mother’s because she bred a killer!

On entering that ring I can see how it would truly be a spectacle to observe, with the colour, pomp and show. However I will give it a miss, would probably sit there weeping my eyes out like Malu’s Kanika. That it is an art form, I do not doubt, that the toreador has to be an artist trained and brave, too is a reality, however who talks about the bravery off that poor animal, his bewilderment and agony? Somehow it is not man that emerges larger here, the torero has help, that bull is alone in the field with a million men yelling all around him and stupid men on prancing horses poking and prodding at him. By the time that prouncing, dancing man gets there the poor animal is hugely beset and quite lost, what chances? What sport? Cannot see!

I did eventually get to the bus station and was very glad that I had not left it for tomorrow, such long queues, would have miscalculated for sure and missed the bus!

Honestly necessary to beware of pick pockets and what here they call the Romanies, and we the gypsies. They look like us – unfortunately – foreign us, if that makes any sense. Like every pinch faced person you would avoid at any of our big city stations.

I walk miles in this city, in the heat, and then I do the good Spanish thing and go up to my air-conditioned, little room and have a siesta. I should actually have it like myriad others under an orange tree ‘en alguna plaza’, but somewhere I have to draw the line between a teenage backpacking fantasy and my real, today self. The air-conditioning is most welcome.

This evening I got nice and lost for about half an hour trying to find another of the recommended tapas bars in la plaza de Los terceros. Have become so familiar with the little pedestrian streets that when I hit equally little, trafficked ones, I got lost. Just being amazed that cars could actually drive through.

However all these lovely people here soon had me walking straight and right into exactly where I wanted to be, sitting under orange trees in a tiny square, drinking great Sangria and eating delicious Tapas at a bar called La Huerta, they specialise in veg tapas, a delightful oxymoron. Recommended: Pavia de bacalao, a fried cod and Quiche de Puerros, leak quiche, also Queso con marmalade de pimientos rojos.

Got home early. The square in front of the hotel is one that I had not sat in and wanted to from the first day here. However there is so much to see and discover in this city that it is necessary to wander. I am here now, there are lovely tiled benches all around, the lit up tower of La Giralda peeps above one corner, more orange trees and the typical little fountain. How utterly charming does it get? I guess this is what people travel the world for, the charms that we discover.

There are a number of restaurants that share space on the square and it all seems to work effortlessly. A tiny bodega in the corner has only two tables but the kids who work in there are charming and have become friends – telling me where to go and what to see. The waiters in my hotel are friends too and sneak me beers while I sit here writing to tell you all my news.

I am going to miss this place. I am either too easy to please or else I am finding the most amazing people and places, either way, what a blessing.

1

2

3

4

Flamenco y tapas

Posted on by

The expert Sevillano! I am it, have discovered all the magical bits of this city. The Plaza Santa Cruz has a very good Flamenco show at Los Gallos. They have two shows one at 20.00 hrs and the other at 22.00 hrs. A good troupe of dancers and singers, not cheap but you get a drink included so I sat there loving every minute of it and drinking an extremely tall glass of Sangria.

After, I found all the best bodegas in Santa Cruz, it was like they just appeared around the corner. Bar la Estrella, Bar las Teresas and Bar la Columna. Jerez Amontillado in the first and a solomillo whisky (pork loin cooked in brandy or whisky). Another Sangria in the next with some amazing camembert frito – (fried camembert with raspberry jam).

I thought I was heading home after, but first I saw a lovely store that sold only white cotton clothes, I have acquired a dress and a shirt that I do not need, but wanted so much. Then I was finally headed home when I walked past La Columna, rocking, but I had no money and you can’t buy one tiny drink and a tapa on the card. So I thought …This is going to be one of those few things that Maya said to leave behind!

Turned the corner and saw La Giralda lighting up the sky and knew that the ATM was somewhere close by…. Another walk around the magically lit monuments into the busy street – directly to the ATM ( across from the tram stop) and ‘ hombre que si’ I was ready to hit the next bar.

A beer at la Columna with flamenquin (pork wrapped in ham and filled with cheese then deep fried.)

Wondering when I turned into a foody? When I walk and walk and get hungry. Remember these are only tapas so I am doing very well. That was a three course dinner, as far as I was concerned, nicely spaced out.

The señor was locking up the door to the hotel when I slid in.

Sent from my iPad

Alcazar de Sevilla

Posted on by

A morning wandering the halls, and gardens of the Alcazar palace. It’s much like the Mughal architecture at home, with mixtures of Gothic, the gardens and water ways are pure Mughal, Moorish, whatever we term it!

Streets have orange trees growing along them, a guitarist sat playing beautifully in the plaza de Los Reyes. Artists had set up around the square. All in all just another great day in Spain.

Sent from my iPad

Sevilla

Posted on by

Today I took a bus from San Feliu to Barcelona, and am now on the Ave, or the super fast train to Sevilla. It is a wonder to me how anyone who does not speak Spanish manages to travel here. I have met about 3 persons who speak a smattering of English and no others.

I would have been lost indeed if my Castellano was not returning in leaps and bounds.

This train ride is taking me virtually all across Spain and is wonderful. We passed Tarragona and Zaragossa, then we rode through a wilderness of mountains with tiny villages and are now in the plateau beyond. An old hacienda and then a modern installation, fields and hills and all of it sort of reminiscent of India – in terms of topography, but distinctly Spanish too. Am so glad I chose not to fly.

! I am in Sevilla! I found a lady taxista, who gave me a constant run down of all the places we were passing and also told me that the hotel I have chosen is a long walk from anywhere that a car might take me. Thank the stars for the Ryan Air, 10 kg restriction!

However she ended up dropping me closer than I thought. I had to walk down cobbled streets narrower than any in Chandni Chowk with music pouring out of every second door because it is a bar, bodega, restaurant or hotel. Past plazas with quaint fountains, only two actually, full of people sitting at candlelit tables. Then I walk down a tiny, tiny alley, seems like a dead end..it opens into a lovely plaza, lots of shady trees ringed with Casa de doña Elvira, bodega de no se qual and there at one end is another minuscule alley called calle Gloria, and down that is La Casa de Dona Lina, which is where I am staying. There is a courtyard with tables, stairs going up one side with two rooms off each floor all looking down into the courtyard. I have a tiny room with a very sufficient bathroom and air-conditioning that is trying to work. The temperature is about 40 degrees but it is all totally enchanting. Can’t believe how lucky I got finding this tiny corner.

Have had a lovely late dinner sitting in the square. Walked down another little alley to discover myself at the Alcazar. Victorias clip clipping around the square, magically lit up fairy tale buildings. Indescribable!

Spain

Posted on by

Spain

It is almost impossible to believe that I am actually here, sitting by the beach on the Costa Brava. The town is San Feliu de Guixols – there is a feria in progress, bands are setting up all over the Market square and the beach. There is festivity in the air and I am hugging myself in glee, wanting to laugh out loud at the wonder of being here.

To think till this morning I was wondering whether Spain was going to be an excitement or a disaster? There is really no way for it to be a disaster, people smile at you for nothing, the air is charged with energy and fun. The houses climb up the hillsides just like they are meant to in white and ochre and pink with tiled roofs. Bodies lie on the beach getting baked.

The air has just now grown cooler, in the homes the shutters were closed and they were mad that I wanted to open them. ‘ It is hot.’ I was told, keep it cool. You don’t know what hot is, I felt like saying, but I kept shut and the shutters closed. Because it is the way in Espana in the summer – es la siesta, y la indiana esta loca! She wants to go wandering the town in the afternoon. What to tell them, I am too excited for the siesta and too tired. If I fall off to sleep now I will not wake because I woke at 4 this morning to catch that flight that I was freaking about.

What an anti climax, it was really pretty good after all the gyan that I got about Ryan air being a cheap, but bad, experience.

There was a traffic jam at the entrance to Luton airport and that cleared, there was a queue at the desk and I was worried about the visa questions and the weight of my bag. None were asked, and my bag weighed less than 10 kgs. What a miracle traveller I am turning into. The queue at security was huge, thought I would miss the flight, ran and made it with time to spare. The flight was un eventful, a nice hostess actually gave me a hot croissant for breakfast. I landed in Spain worrying about visa question, the man didn’t even look at my passport, just turned the page and stamped it saying ‘ bien venido’ and outside the arrivals was Francesc, waiting for me.

We drove some 30 kms to this amazing place, Maite has a flat right in the heart of town, round the corner from the Market square and half a minute from the beach. I could not have wished for more, I even have my own bathroom! Going to be spoilt for the rest of Spain, but now I am sure it is just going to be totally amazing and I will never want to leave.

Today I am sitting watching it all, this evening I am going to come and dance and tomorrow I am going into that stupendously inviting sea . Just want to keep sharing this, the band is tuning up and practicing at one end, there are the ‘blasting music people’ at the other end trying to figure out if their music system is working. Now there is a lovely girl with a great voice singing, lord, this is what my youth should have been, but I am so glad it is happening now when the agonies of youth are long past and I can just revel in being a part of this and let myself go to follow the music.

Am I happy I am alone? At the moment yes, because if who ever I was with did not want to do what I am doing now, it would have so ruined it – so back to square one – alone or not?

I have to say this is as close to the Goa experience as it gets, still no one serving you beer on the beach, but the stalls are there and the beer is only a step away. I better explain, that in all my travels there is no place with the service that we get back home, and there is no beach experience to beat the Goa one, with full, affordable, service while you lie on a lounger gazing at the sea. There may be spectacular views and beautiful beaches, but for the sybaritic pleasures of enjoying that beach – Goa!

There is a happiness in my soul to be here, however. The same junk as you get in Goa, in Camden Market, in Manali and on the Costa Brava, but the energies change and the view. Here too, people smile, the last spot was New Zealand. There is a Buddhist, tarot, astrology, magic kiosk right in front of me. amazing how all of those things seem to be akin!

It just does not stop, the amazement and fun. Went for a walk along the breakwater to watch the sunset and the lights of the village across the water, with all the festivities of the feria. On the way back there was a traditional Sardana band setting up and I stopped to watch. Maite,my hostess, told me that it was a traditional dancing music, but there seemed to be no dancers. Lo, the band started up and within minutes a group of women had formed a circle and started dancing this intricate little step, and then more and more just kept joining in, it’s a quatrain refrain and the beat changes as does the dance, there were old ones and young ones and ones breaking into the circle and then another circle formed and i just stood spell bound and watched.

We came back home to a lovely candle lit dinner on the terrace listening to the music all around us, and then after dinner these fire crackers started going off. I was told I had to go see what was happening, so Francesc was pushed into escorting me and off we went wandering the streets again.

This time it was the Corre Focs or Running with the fire, young people let off this cartwheel fire cracker on a pole and they cover their heads and run with it, while a whole bunch of girls and boys follow beating the most amazing rhythm on small and large drums respectively. It is a party in the streets and the whole town is out there celebrating. It has been an almost 21 hour day for me, and each minute of it filled with magic. I would not have missed this for the world!