I can’t remember the last time that I had ten days to myself with no obligations. What a gift. Is this what retirement is like? Here we are in the most beautiful place imaginable in the high mountains in Spain, lazing, reading, replenishing. There truly is nothing that we have to do. Perhaps make a breakfast or go to the mercadero for supplies. Take a leisurely walk in the sleepy village. Go get a cappuccino. Write a novel, or at least a story. Oh dear, I’m feeling peckish, which restaurant shall we choose tonight? Oh look, storm clouds are starting to form over Capileira. Perhaps it’s time to start a fire. Or take a nap. There are several other villages to explore. We will definitely go down the mountain on Thursday to visit Orgiva. I understand that the open market is quite impressive. And a drive up to Trevillez would be nice; they have some of the best jambon in the world up there I am told. It is also the highest village in Europe by altitude. Let’s not forget Granada. What would a trip to Andalucia be like if we didn’t visit the Alhambra Palace. The Costa del Sol is only an hour and a half away…beautiful beaches, oceanside bodegas, seafood restaurants, and the Mediterranean blue to the coast of Africa. Every moment is precious; time drifts by.
Monday, March 30, 2009
At Our Casita, Bubion
I can’t remember the last time that I had ten days to myself with no obligations. What a gift. Is this what retirement is like? Here we are in the most beautiful place imaginable in the high mountains in Spain, lazing, reading, replenishing. There truly is nothing that we have to do. Perhaps make a breakfast or go to the mercadero for supplies. Take a leisurely walk in the sleepy village. Go get a cappuccino. Write a novel, or at least a story. Oh dear, I’m feeling peckish, which restaurant shall we choose tonight? Oh look, storm clouds are starting to form over Capileira. Perhaps it’s time to start a fire. Or take a nap. There are several other villages to explore. We will definitely go down the mountain on Thursday to visit Orgiva. I understand that the open market is quite impressive. And a drive up to Trevillez would be nice; they have some of the best jambon in the world up there I am told. It is also the highest village in Europe by altitude. Let’s not forget Granada. What would a trip to Andalucia be like if we didn’t visit the Alhambra Palace. The Costa del Sol is only an hour and a half away…beautiful beaches, oceanside bodegas, seafood restaurants, and the Mediterranean blue to the coast of Africa. Every moment is precious; time drifts by.
In Bubion
When the Moors were evicted from Granada, the last stronghold of an era of grace, they fled to the mountains and inhabited what became small mountain villages. Their knowledge of irrigation and terracing allowed them to maintain small farming-based communities. The architecture here in Las Alpujarras is almost identical to that which might be found in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco. The houses are small and brightly whitewashed. The chestnut wooden rafters now hold up slate roofs which are adorned by chimneys each of which has its own particular charm and character. The world slows down here. On our first night the rain clouds rolled in providing a misty backdrop for the white villages. Upon waking we could see no further than our porch until the morning mist receded once again offering a heavenly view both down into the valley to the South and up to the snow-capped peaks North and East of here. Our evening was highlighted by our meal at a small restaurant, Estacion 4, where we were the only diners and, as such, were given a table by the fireplace. The owner/waiter/chef was a charming man who cooked and served us a Mediterranean plate and crock of vegetarian lasagna with goat cheese fresh out of the oven.
Our casita is a one room apartment. There are two French doors opening to the porch which overlooks the mountains. There is a kitchen, fireplace and bathroom. The walls are whitewashed and the ceiling has exposed log rafters. The bed is in an alcove. There is a magnificent silence here.
It is Sunday and we are relaxing into the pace of the village. We prepared a home cooked breakfast of eggs and potatoes with onions and garlic, coffee and fresh-squeezed orange juice. A great way to start the day! We took an afternoon stroll into the village which was mostly deserted. It is possible to walk to each of the neighboring towns and there are mountain trails to explore until your legs fall off.
From Cordoba To Bubion
It is always difficult to leave a place that you have grown fond of. Medieval Cordoba represents the stronghold of that lost dream of peaceful co-existence, wherein religion was seen as a path to the mythic realms, while community provided the stable force to provide meaning within the mundane: “There is a reason to live, and the exploration of life is reason in itself.” The atmosphere of the place is palpable as we walk through the cozy cobble stoned backstreets where the sandals of the great poets and philosophers walked and where artisans worked there magic. This was the greatest city in Europe with over a million inhabitants. Where discussions included the appropriateness of names by which we might refer to our gods, and where rules of society were formed, some of which remain an essential part of constitutions throughout the world until this day.
I had a dream in which the Mezquita was filled with all the world’s refugees. They were in need of some supernal sustenance. The great minds were obligated to find a solution. The question was whether there was enough to go around. The answer was that with the correct attitude it would be possible for all to be fed.
I have taken so many photographs of churches, shrines, Jesus statues, Mary posters, stained glass windows, cathedrals, and altars that Cindy jokes that I am, “Turning Catholic.”
Bubion The drive from Cordoba by-passed Grenada and then took us up into the Sierra Nevada mountains. The incline was steep and sudden, heading up along hairpin bends barely wide enough for two vehicles with deep drop-offs inches to our right looking down into craggy valleys. A car could fall a long way quickly with one false move. Early along the journey into the mountains we looked out at eye level at giant windmills. Soon we were looking down on soaring hawks. We continued up past Lanjaron the first and largest of the mountain towns, and on to Orgiva the capital of the region. The road rose steeper still from here until we reached the first of the three white, mountain villages, Pampaniera, the gateway to our town, Bubion and on to Capileira; this trinity of mountain jewels set into the arid, terraced terrain and cradled under the snowy peaks of the tallest mountains in Europe besides the Alps.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Ubeda and Baeza - The Renaissance Cities
We took the Peugeot for a drive today through scenic countryside, hills gently splayed to the horizon filled with neat lines of olive orchards spreading to eternity. Jaen Province provides 10% of the world’s olive oil.
A short drive took us to Baeza, the smallest and “brightest gem” of the Renaissance triangle (which also includes Jaen). Large limestone blocks are the primary architectural medium and are the building blocks for the Cathedral de Santa Maria.
Later we were introduced to a distant view of the splendor of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range which today was mostly cloaked in mist. Snow-capped peaks occasionally revealed themselves to give us a taste of what we might expect on the last leg of our journey starting tomorrow when we will make our way to our house in the mountains.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Cordoba - The Mezquita
Cordoba - The Jewish District
We picked up our Peugeot in Malaga and drove the ninety minutes or so up to Cordoba. It was a very pleasant ride on smooth, easy to use roads. Traffic was very organized and polite and everybody stayed in the slow lane unless overtaking – a wonderful concept. Our hotel, the Eurostars Maimonides, has underground parking. If you’ve ever complained at the tight parking at Trader Joe’s - that is like parking in a prairie compared to the postage stamp sized space we had to squeeze into.
We visited the Torre de la Calahorra (link in Spanish), a museum depicting the “Life of Al-Andalus.” Here we heard the words of the Jewish doctor and philosopher Maimonides, his Muslim counterpart Averroes, and the religious zealots Al-Arabi and King Alfonso X, each representing significant facets of this cultural period of synergy. We visited the sinagoga, the only remaining synagogue in Andalucia and one of only three in Spain (the other two are in Toledo). It is basically a one room building with an ante room and small courtyard. It has been unused as a temple in hundreds of years.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Last Day In Barcelona
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Barcelona - City Of Gaudi
We are finding the Barca Metro to be a very easy way to get around the city. Everything is clearly color coded and directions are exact. Our first stop was at Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s as-yet unfinished cathedral masterpiece.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Barcelona - Montjuic, Miro, and The Magic Fountain
Next we visited the magnificent Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, a palace dominating Montjuic and proudly overlooking the whole city:
A full day! We have been eating well but generally lightly. We have been walking all over the city. We are enthusiastic about all the glories of this surprising, creative, sunny, colorful, international city.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Barcelona - Picasso and Barceloneta
In the evening we walked over to La Barceloneta, an eighteenth century, working class waterfront district. We promenaded along the beach down to the massive Gehry fish sculpture overlooking the Mediterranean at twilight before landing at the El Rey de la Gamba fish restaurant, where we ate alfresco, sampling thick, buttery monkfish and a huge seafood paella along with a bottle of rustic house wine. We enjoyed our walk home past the Lichtenstein sculpture to our hotel, arriving happy and worn-out from a full-day.
It is now 4am local time and jetlag has won the battle. The crowds are still singing and engaging in a lively banter down on the streets. I awoke from a dream in which I was watching a movie that was based on a book that was based on a fairy tale. I woke with the odd feeling that I had walked into someone else’s dream.
Barcelona - El Born District
The first five days of our vacation are in Barcelona. We arrived here after about 24 hours of travel by car, bus, airplane, train and a good solid walk down Via Laietana. We eventually found our delightful boutique hotel, Hotel Banys Orientals in one of the bustling back streets of the fashionable El Born district. Our first night walking in the area around the hotel offered us a view of the nightlife around the Esglesia de Santa Maria del Mar, which the Lonely Planet guide describes as, “Barcelona's most powerful and beguiling Gothic temple.” It stands serenely amid the swirling crowds that daily invade the El Born area, once the heart of local commerce and now devoted to local diversion.
Our tour of the district took us through crowded, winding alleyways filled with wine bars, restaurants and artfully designed shops which took pains to blend in with the original architecture. The narrow streets would open out onto wide squares which bestowed structure and calm upon the otherwise confusing maze.