P.O.S. (Parts of Spain)

In 2014, Sai and I embarked on a two-week tour of Spain. Somewhere along the way, I took some notes that I sometime later typed up and forgot about.  A couple of years later, I found a typed up partial report, recounting the first week and a half of the journey, but I couldn’t find the source file or journal.  So the story is slightly unfinished (and very much unpolished), which is why it’s only parts of Spain.  Not that we covered the rest of Spain in the remaining few days anyway, but whatever.  It’s a name.  This should give a good enough flavor of several parts of Spain.  It’s like tapas, bite-sized teasers of different things, instead of a full meal.  You won’t be satisfied from this, but if you wash it down with lots of alcohol, it’ll get you through.

 

Saturday, 9/27/14 – Barcelona, FC

We arrived in Barcelona, right on time, around 4 p.m. local time. However, our luggage decided the layover in Brussels was insufficient, and elected to take a later flight.  Sai was not happy.  They told us that our luggage would be touching down in Espana sometime after 10 p.m., and that their delivery service would bring the bags to our hotel in their morning run.

We checked into our hotel around 5:30, and were quickly out the door to see our FC Barcelona (soccer) game at 6 p.m. However, along the way we stopped at every visible market so Sai could pick up toothpaste, toothbrushes, soap, shampoo, facial cream, deodorant, and every other kind of body cleaning product you can imagine, so that she could be spick and span (is that offensive in Spain?) spotless before our own toothpaste, toothbrushes, soap, shampoo, facial cream, deodorants, etc. arrived the next morning.  Ben was not happy.  Why couldn’t we wait until after the game to hit up a 7-11?  Good question, I thought.  I will admit that in the two weeks we spent in Spain, I did not see a single 7-11, though there were other late night markets that could have served this same purpose.

By the time we left the metro station near the stadium, it was already 6:30, and the streets were relatively empty. We could not see the stadium from the metro exit, but we did espy a couple of FC Barcelona-clad fans walking in what we logically assumed was the direction of the Camp Nous arena; the other 97,000+ people had already made it to the game.  We reached our seats with a few minutes left in the first half, after Barcelona had already scored its first goal against Granada.  Over the course of the next 48+/- minutes of game action, we witnessed a hat trick by Neymar and a pair of goals by Lionel Messi to make it a 6-0 drubbing.  It was cool hanging out in the sun in one of Europe’s largest soccer stadiums, watching the hometown team completely outclass some sorry competition.  Messi was like a magician with a soccer ball.  Every time he touched it, everyone held their breath, ready for something special to happen, and he usually delivered with his fancy footwork, quick bursts, and perfect touches.  It was also fun to see a wave of 97k fans.  Only strike against this experience (besides Sai’s sidetrack that caused us to miss most of the first half) was the impossibly high bar set by the soccer game we watched in Argentina years before.  The Boca Juniors experience was more electric; though much smaller, there was so much more singing, more passion, and a hell of a lot more policia at La Bombonera.  I didn’t see any riot gear after the game in Spain.

When close to 100,000 people pour out of a downtown arena, they tend to run in every direction instead of conscientiously all leading us back to the metro. We couldn’t find our trusty guides from before (the pair we followed into the stadium were not the only ones wearing FCB colors), and I did not have a detailed Barcelona map yet, so we walked in a couple of circles.  Maybe my pocito Espanol es non bueno, or maybe the Spanish didn’t like us, but every time we asked someone “donde es el metro?”, they pointed us in a different direction.  Sai was not happy.

We walked and walked, and found a metro station with some shops around it, so Sai shopped and shopped, figuring that if her clothes were not expected to arrive until roughly twelve hours later, she’d need a new wardrobe in the meantime. She declined my suggestion of being fully decked out in FC Barcelona fashion (what a weak bandwagon fan).  We finally settled in for dinner at an outdoor table in a café, where we had a forgettable meal (some type of ham sandwich for me, with nowhere near enough beer to drown out the day’s dramas).

Awesome soccer stadium, amazing players, but otherwise not a fun first day.

 

Sunday, 9/28 – Sagrada Familia & Opera House

We awoke late the next morning to the knocking on our door for the delivery of our luggage. We survived the super horrible cataclysmic disaster of having to wait an extra sixteen hours for clean underwear.  Rest assured, as I know everyone was worried about us during that dire demiday or so.

Aided this time by a city map, we ventured out ready for a new day of exploration. The second biggest perk of having our luggage (after Sai’s special face wash) was the raingear we had packed, since Sunday was a rainy mess.  I had a light waterproof jacket, Sai had a big green poncho, and we shared an umbrella.  Sagrada Familia was a few blocks from us, so we headed there first.  It is a massive gothic cathedral that’s been under construction for the last 130+ years.  Antoni Gaudi was the architect on the project for 45 years until getting hit by a train or something, and numerous designers and builders have continued his legacy ever since, with a tentative goal of completing the project by 2026 (a century after Gaudi’s death), though these facts warrant fact-checking, as I wrote from memory.  [I’ve said this before, but I’ll put it out there again, do not rely on anything I write as accurate.]  Before you bash Gaudi’s lazy general contractors for running so long on the schedule, please understand that he never expected the job to be completed in his lifetime (with or without being run over).  It’s a crazy looking façade, with ornate stone sculptures everywhere, carved into spires, towers, archways, and every possible place to add ornamentation.  There are several tower cranes swinging overhead, scaffolding on different turrets, and wet tourists all around.  Words cannot do the building justice, though there are books available that attempt to (with a lot of pictures).  We only explored the outside on this ugly day since the ticket line was too long, and then moved on to our next stop.  (We did make it back to tour the inside a few days later, but before you go skipping ahead, know that I didn’t waste words trying to describe this incredible edifice).

The next cathedral was much less scary looking, and nowhere near as cool in my agnostic opinion. But at least it was complete.  It looked like a normal church – lots of gold, Jesus and Mary paintings, dark, high ceilings, crowded with tourists, etc.  Boring.

We quickly passed through to the gothic quarter, and wandered winding side streets past little shops and restaurants, wading through puddles. For lunch, Sai had selected a historic restaurant that trumped our mediocre meal from the previous evening, once we eventually found it.  Even with a map, the gothic quarter is still confusing!  Afterwards, when the rains picked up again, we hid in an archeology museum where we saw old Roman ruins buried beneath the building.  For something more modern, we tried the nearby Picasso museum, but the insane line in torrential downpours was not worth it.  We later learned that the long line was because this museum is free on Sundays.

Being the fancy wet pants we are, we went to the fancy opera house in the afternoon, only to learn that the tours were over for the day. However, they did have ticket sales for the evening’s show (an opera / flamenco combo), so we booked that and then headed to dinner.  Our dinner reservation was at another well-reviewed restaurant.  Sai had learned her lesson from one disappointing meal and decided we had to go to good places for the rest of the trip (though we would forego this rule time and again, as you’ll find; it was a nice idea).  The fried octopus was pretty tasty, monkfish too, and the bottle of wine that Sai accidentally bought (thinking it was just an expensive glass) made for a good, albeit pricy, meal.  Afterwards, the opera / flamenco show entertained us for the night.  Excellent Spanish guitar (finger picking good), two divas, a fat baritone, a pianist, drummer, wind instrument, and four alternating flamenco dancers traded turns in the beautiful music hall.  My only complaint (always have to have at least one) was that it felt like a long day wearing the same wet jeans.  Regardless, on this rare occasion, both Ben and Sai were happy!

 

Monday, 9/29 – Montserrat

After seeing all that Barcelona had to offer in our first thirty-six hours (Messi, Gaudi churches, and flamenco), we decided to try somewhere new on Monday. No, that’s not right, but we wanted to check out Montserrat while in Barcelona, and Monday seemed to be the day with the best weather forecast.  We metroed to the rail line, and trained it an hour away to the jagged mountains (thus the name).  An aerial tram took us across the highway and halfway up the mountain into the clouds.  At this midpoint, there are funiculars up or down, and a huge basilica, hotel, shops and cafes.  After snapping some pictures inside the church and tons more of the gorgeous outside scenery, we rose up higher via the upper funicular.  There were also trail options up, but Sai wanted no part of them.

The funicular took us up the mountain, where we again took hundreds of pictures. From this point, there are well groomed dirt and gravel paths to different overlooks, old hermitages, and serrated peaks.  It was a beautiful place to escape the city and enjoy a few hours of dry weather.  The packed return train to Barcelona answered the question of whether or not I can nap while standing (I can, but only for a few seconds at a time).

Our pre-planned evening meal was at La Pepita, a trendy tapas restaurant not far from our hotel. We arrived there early to beat the rush, only to find we were too early, because they did not open for another hour.  This gave us two options:  One – sit down in the pub around the corner and grab a few drinks while we waited (my proposed plan), or Two – pound the pavement and stop in every shop looking for a new wardrobe to continue to compensate for the delayed luggage from two days before (Sai’s plan, in case you’re unsure).  Despite being too tired from too much walking, guess which option we (she) chose?  Ben was not happy.

We returned to La Pepita ten minutes early from its opening, and there were already groups of people milling about outside, waiting for the doors to open. At 8 p.m. sharp, they let us storm in, and the tables filled in minutes.  It was definitely a popular place, but also small, leading to the commotion.  We ordered a bunch of plates of tapas, including bulls tail stew, salmon, eggplant, and other dishes.  My favorite was their calamari.  Not sure what the sauce was, but it was delicious.  The pathetically small cervezas were quick bursts of refreshment, and the service was swift enough to keep them coming.  Afterwards, on the walk home, we eyed up some tasty looking churros (sugar-coated fried pastries, some stuffed with fillings), but were too full to partake on this particular evening.  More on those later.

 

Tuesday, 9/30 – Sagrada Familia, Park Guell, La Rambla

Another full day in Barcelona (our last), and another day of rain. What’s the Spanish wording for Déjà vu?  We returned to Sagrada Familia, this time armed with advanced tickets purchased online the evening before.  Though they still hadn’t finished construction (I couldn’t see much progress since Sunday), the outside of the building continued to astound.  The backside of the cathedral is even more elaborate than the front.  Inside wasn’t bad either!  Again, pictures surpass anything I can say about it.  Gaudi’s masterpiece is incredible.  It really is too bad he couldn’t live to be 174 years old to see it through to completion.

We hopped on the hop-on hop-off city tour bus in front of the SF church so that we wouldn’t get caught in the rain again, even though we were again wearing our raingear. The tour bus took us to Park Guell, Gaudi’s urban park that was to me somewhat overrated.  Decorative, piecemeal ceramics clad ornamented walls, columns, stairs, a ranger house, museum, and a famous giant lizard.  The grounds resemble some kind of Candyland fantasy (but no real candy).  Whereas Sagrada Familia earns every bit of Gaudi’s esteem, Guell seemed too gaudy to me (FWIW).  The rains finally let up, and we hopped along to more of the tour, passing along the way several more Gaudi buildings, though we did not stop and pay to enter any of these more modest residential projects.

We hopped off at the plaza (Placa de Catalunya) on the north end of La Rambla, the kilometer long pedestrian road of shops through the city. Heading away from the plaza, we strolled towards the river, stopping halfway at La Boqueria, a giant food market.  Inside, we found Sai’s lunchtime destination, a busy tapas bar with more tasty tiny dishes.  Sai’s favorite – croquettes, which are breaded meats or cheeses or butter or whatever food the locals feel like frying into nuggets.  We gorged ourselves on several tapas plates, which I washed down with frothy brews from the taps.  The food stalls contained all kinds of dishes, with a rainbow of fruits, fish, nuts, and god knows what on offer everywhere we turned.  Some of the meat counters had strange animal heads for sale.  One looked like a dog, another like a small cow.  I like to try new things, but I did not eat any animal heads.

After La Boqueria, we walked off the rest of La Rambla, waved to the Columbus statue at the opposite end from our start, looking out over the port and Mediterranean Sea beyond. There we hopped back on the bus, zipped past the Olympic Village and some city viewpoints from Mont _____ (not to be confused with Mont Blanc in France / Italy, I’m just drawing a blank on the name of the mountain above Barcelona – I’m guessing it was Montjuic, but it’s not important), Camp Nou (much less exciting without game going on) and a few other stops we skipped over before disembarking the tour near our hotel.

On the walk back, we stopped for a vanilla-flavored churro from the place we saw the night before, and it was as good as it had appeared. We siestaed and debated going back out again, but Sai opted to stay in while sending out for room service (me, running back to pick up more churros).  Before delivering more vanilla and some chocolate filled snacks for her, I spent some time alone in the Café Adonis bar around the corner from the hotel.  Like the churros, it was good stuff.

The two main beers on tap everywhere were San Miguel and Estrella Damm. Both were smooth lagers, easy on the palate.

Barcelona is a nice city. It’s a big city, but not like New York or Bangkok big.  You can get around without too much difficulty.  Sagrada Familia was the highlight for me.  Incredible structure.

 

Wednesday, 10/1 – Seville, Alcazar

We woke up early, walked to the metro to the shuttle bus to the airport to Seville. Stop 2 of our Spanish exploration.  I had a small map for getting to the hotel form a nearby landmark (the cathedral), but the bus we took from the airport dropped us off elsewhere, leaving us to wander about for a long, hot, back-straining walk along the twisting, turning, winding “streets” of the old section of Seville.  We eventually found our hotel, only to be told that we were staying at their other hotel (of the same name), a few blocks farther (just to keep the fun going).  We checked in, offloaded our cargo, and set off immediately to find Sai’s tapas lunch find.

This tapas place was packed similarly to the one at La Boqueria, only with fewer seats at the bar.  Most people just stood around munching on their small plates of food.  When Sai asked the bartendress about finding a seat, she was greeted with a laugh and a Spanglish wish of “good luck.”  Sai nonetheless proceeded to order a bunch of dishes (deferring to the friendly house’s recommendations for most), and a small beer for me, as we wedged our way into a small clearing for standing space at the bar, shortly before our smorgasbord arrived.  There were four or five people behind the busy counter, taking care of the packed house.  Everyone was in good cheer.  Very fun atmosphere, and good food too.

After lunch, we walked around the cathedral where there were horse-drawn carriages, horse-spewed crap, and hordes of tourists. There was also the entrance to Seville’s Alcazar, a huge castle / fortress from Moorish times.  This palace was impressive, with intricate detailing in wall, floor, and ceiling paneling, massive spaces, high ceilings, lavish fountains and gardens.  We shared an audio guide, so I only heard maybe half of the information offered (Sai and I do not share notes), and learned less than half of what I heard, retaining even less, so that I can bring you this micro-synopsis of bad information.  From Alcazar and subsequent similar facilities, these places were often started around the 11^th Century (some earlier, some later) by one ruling Arabic family, expanded by their descendants and / or conquerors, destroyed / rebuilt over the centuries, with changing uses of space, differing styles of construction, etc. through around the 16^th Century.  Most of these palaces did not seem to grow beyond that general timeframe, but were instead abandoned until modern restoration to earlier conditions for today’s tourists to see and misrepresent in trip reports.  [In the case of the Alcazar, it would also serve as the setting for Dorne royalty in Game of Thrones.]

For dinner, la jefe (the boss) selected a nearby establishment that I struggled to find. First, I detoured us past the Seville bullfighting ring (closed for the evening), across the river, into a bohemian neighborhood with a bunch of outdoor cafes.  None of these met Sai’s discerning standards, so we continued on, with a romantic riverside stroll back to where we started.  This time, I found her restaurant of choice, and we proceeded to choose plate upon small plate of different dishes, again deferring to house recommendations for many selections.  Sai’s favorite – the basil pasta with shrimp and squid ink.

 

Thursday, 10/2 – Cathedral, Bikes, Plaza de Espana

We arose, and Sai was feeling energetic! We walked a block to the nearby bike shop and booked rentals for a couple of hours later.  Before riding, we checked out the inside of the landmark cathedral we’d been passing by before.  The Seville Cathedral is huge!  Much bigger than we realized from the outside.  It’s one of the largest churches in Europe (behind St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome).  Same old crucifixes, organs, pews, etc., though on a grander scale, plus this one has the tomb of Christopher Columbus.  Take that, St. Peter’s (they only have dead popes).  The tour included a visit to the bell tower, whereto you walk up ramp after ramp turning ninety degrees at the end of each incline’s landing, approximately 40 times until you reach the church bell deck.  There you find an impressive view of the city of Seville, and another vantage point from which to appreciate the magnitude of both this Cathedral and the Alcazar next door.

Next, we returned to pick up our bikes for some cross-transportation excitement. The bell tower had not yet sapped all of Sai’s energies, so we stuck with the plan.  After a few scenic wrong turns, we arrived at the Plaza de Espana.  This massive plaza was constructed circa 1929 for a world’s fair (practically brand new relative to the Cathedral – 1528 and Alcazar – ~1364).  It was also a setting in Attack of the Clones, but fuck Jar Jar Binks, so let’s move on.  This is supposedly a very popular postcard image of Spain, with the long, arcing structure of columns and arches and government buildings, with a moat in front, footbridges, and towers on the ends.  Most impressive was the fountain in the middle with the hot young Russian blonde in a skimpy wet dress doing her best Tawny Kitaen (Whitesnake video) impression, straddling / splitting on the fountain edge as if it was a Jaguar.  If the Spanish tourism board is looking to boost guys coming to this Plaza, they should hire her on full-time.  As it was, Sai was less inspired than me.  I couldn’t find a postcard with the Russian TK on it though.

We biked back along the Guadalquivir River, into a new part of town, and ate lunch at (can you guess?) another tapas bar. Afterwards, we rode across the river towards a monastery that was on the guide map.  By the time we arrived, Sai was feeling the efforts from all of our cycling, so I led us in the general direction of back home.  But then the road curved away from the water.  I knew the hotel was generally northwest of our location, and the road led us northeast, so I was half-right, right?  Sai was not happy (SWNH – that should have been the title for this tale).  I could not pinpoint our precise location on the small map, much to her dismay.  We experienced some new neighborhoods that were not part of the original plan, gained a few extra miles of exercise, and made it back before dark, so I considered it a success.

Sai chose to channel her anger into some much needed rest at the hotel, while I wisely left her alone to stew and went for a run (a long overdue activity I had heretofore neglected on this trip), along the near side of the paved river path. That night, we walked through the shopping district (to her delight), to Mechela, a modern fusion tapas restaurant.  More interesting dishes in small servings, with tasty desserts.  Sai had temporarily forgiven me.

Seville was a nice small town. Lots of scenery, big attractions (Alcazar, Cathedral, Plaza de Espana), walkable / bikeable, warm weather, touristy (particularly the old town section where we stayed).

 

Friday, 10/3 – Lost in Granada

Busy morning, trying to cram in last bits of Seville before catching the afternoon train to Granada. First, local laundromat to reset the wardrobe for the second half of the trip.  Quick brunch, followed by Sai shopping for replacement clothes to compensate for the ones she temporarily lost six days before.  We dropped the bikes back at the shop, revisited one of our earlier eateries for more squid ink pasta, then walked across town to the train station to head to our next destination.

Three hours later, we were in Granada, not to be confused with Grenada. The train ride from Seville to the latter Caribbean nation would take a lot longer and would require some serious holding of breath.  Granada is a neat old city in south central Spain.  For reference, Barcelona is in the northeast, Seville is southwest, Cordoba is somewhere between Seville and Granada, and Madrid is central, and that covers our major destinations for this trip.  We broke Sai’s unwritten rule of never taking a cab, and metered our way through some confusing streets to our next hotel for the astronomical rate of 7 euros (maybe not all cabbies are out to rip us off).  Our host gave us a map with highlights to follow, which we failed to follow as I quickly got us lost in the small side streets of this big town.  We wandered across the city, following my impeccable sense of direction, until Sai suspected something was up.  I had realized it before her, but my attempts to steer us back to where we wanted to be via some sketchy dark alleys only raised her suspicions and hackles.  SWNH.  Some words not heard were “thanks for trying Ben,” or “I’ll trust you to lead us there eventually, as you always do, my dear husband.”  No, nothing like that.  Other, less print-worthy words were exchanged, as was the map, as I handed it over to her and tasked her with trying to do any better.  She backtracked (the boring way) and we found ourselves back in the touristy areas again.  We walked along the Alhambra at night (think Seville’s Alcazar on steroids), up a mountain road, past restaurants and bars, to nowhere in particular.  After enough impatience, I took back the map and led us to one of our hoteliers highlighted stops, though I had no idea what it was (but it was highlighted, so we needed to see it).  Shortly thereafter, we found ourselves at the Mirador De San Nicolas, which is a cool viewpoint for the Alhambra that was actually on my checklist for this town anyway.  The Alhambra is a massive complex, ghostly lit at night and looming as backdrop to the city.  This hillside overlook was full of teens / millennials, so the old lady and I did not linger long.  Most of the merchants were closing up shop around the time we arrived, so we headed back towards the hotel.  We stopped at an outdoor patio for dinner (veal meatballs and more croquettes).  Granada was a much busier and bigger city than I had expected, with people everywhere.

 

Saturday, 10/4 – Alhambra

Our first task of the new day was to tour the Alhambra. Aside from planes, trains, and futbol tickets, the Alhambra was the only other ticket we needed to book in advance (the online tickets for Sagrada Familia in Barcelona are a convenience, not a necessity).  I lost the vote on how to reach the palace, having burned Sai’s thighs too many times before with my roundabout walks.  After a short bus ride, we spent the next six hours touring the humongous palace / fortress / garden / estate.  Repeating the rough history noted above, it was an Arabic / Moorish stronghold from the 13^th century, passed down and built up, before being later taken over by the Catholic monarchy in the late 15^th century.  Inside, the Arabic sections were much more impressive than the simpler styles of the later church people (guess all their ornamentation was saved for the churches).  The Arabic arches, patterns, arabesques, details, etc. were extraordinary.  The palace was huge, the grounds gorgeous, gardens and fountains throughout.  An impressive place to spend a day.  In your face, Alcazar.  [Sorry that such a long day warrants such a short write-up, but that’s what happens when you wait a couple of years to find / finish the effort.]

More tapas for lunch and dinner. Sai found her favorite croquettes at the first place, and we had fun at a busy bar to end the day.

Granada is a neat town. Very hilly.  Very European.  It looks and feels like an old city, with its narrow alleys and labyrinthine lanes.  Alhambra is awesome.  Not sure how much more there was to see that we didn’t see, but I don’t think it requires a ton of time for a visit.

 

Sunday, 10/5 – Cordoba: Mezquita, Alcazar, and baths

Fourth stop on the whirlwind tour was Cordoba. A two-hour train ride and a short cab ride (Sai was really losing control by this point) brought us to the nicest hotel of our entire trip, where we would only stay for a single night.  Bummer.  The hotel was conveniently located for us to walk to the Mezquita de Cordoba, which is a big temple turned mosque turned church turned tourist attraction turned TBD.  The contrasting styles of its many uses are still on full display, creating a crazy variety of features throughout the massive space.  It struck me as being the opposite of Alhambra, in that in this case, the Catholic components were much more ornate that the simpler Arabic predecessor elements.  It’s a large building, over a thousand years old, with striped archways atop countless columns throughout the otherwise empty space.  It seems like something special, stripped down to its basic structural members.  Not sure what should be filling the space (besides tourists), but it felt empty, devoid of purpose (such is religion to an atheist).  Food stalls!  That’s what was missing!  We needed more tapas.

We ate lunch at a place recommended by Yelp or TripAdvisor (or wherever else Sai found recommendations), and saw Cordoba’s Alcazar (another castle and garden). This Alc was okay, not bad on its own, but not in the same league as Seville’s, which was similarly dwarfed by Granada’s Alhambra.  It’s all relative.  There are also Roman aqueducts on the river, showing the city’s age.

Sai’s incessant complaining about tired legs and sore feet (SINH – Sai is never happy!) led us to seek out an Arabic bathhouse that was advertised on our tourist map (not a guidebook recommendation – going off program). We stopped in, made appointments for later that evening, and returned to our hotel for some siesta action.  Later, inside the bathhouse, we alternated warm, hot, and cold baths, with some sauna as well, and Sai got herself a massage.  It was pretty relaxing, except for the imminent orgy as several of the European couples spent more time engaged in PDA than in relaxing.  We left before it got too heated.

Afterwards, we dined at the same restaurant from our earlier lunch. Same waiter sat us at the same table, to complete the déjà vu (still don’t know the Spanish words for that).  We at least mixed up our menu selections, though it was more tapas of course.

 

Monday, 10/6 – Run, Madrid, Reina Sofia, Guernica

I awoke (relatively) early, and headed out for my second (and final) run of the trip. I cruised downhill from the hotel towards the Alcazar, crossed the river, and found a paved trail aside the water.  To the right returned towards the city.  To the left went away from everything, so that’s where I headed.  The paved trail eroded to gravel (with lots of broken glass), then to dirt.  I was flanked on the left by the same Guadalquivir River from Seville and some foliage.  On my right was a seawall with Spanish street art (el graffiti), for a few miles until I was away from everything, looking back at the large Mezquita and Alcazar standing out amidst the city in the distance.  The wide trail tapered down to single track, still following the general winding line of the river.  A couple minutes later, I sidestepped a large pile of fresh horseshit, and a few strides further found its source, a wild horse (no collar).  The animal calmly idled in the middle of the narrow trail, daring me to cross it.  Earlier on the run, I’d crossed paths with three black cats, which was surely not a good sign.  This time, I elected not to further press my luck, and gave wide berth by taking an alternate “trail” around the bigger beast.  Score this one for Senor Ed. The secondary route bypassed the shitty horse, but quickly ended with me running through some arid fields of dry cacti (very sharp!), until I recognized that I was beyond the trail and in need of a better pathway.  I found a new trail that led to a dirt road that surely went somewhere, so I followed that, and it led me to an illegal dump (that stunk), before dumping me out onto an empty highway.  Running along, up a nice, long hill, I thought about how isolated this was (except for cats and a horse, I was alone this whole run), this bucolic riverside route with Cordoban landmarks in the distance, when out of nowhere, two fucking bicyclists snuck up and spoiled everything.  (To be fair, the broken glass, graffiti, unlucky black cats, the shit-horse in the way, the prick-cactus, and the smelly dump kind of counted against my perfect run too, but I can still bitch about a couple of bikers).  I offered them a breathless buenos dias, reached the top of the hill, took some deep breaths and another look around, and headed back to town.  On the return journey, the horse had moved on, the cats were gone, but I was this time accosted by a couple of Spanish Italian greyhounds.  No chance of outrunning those little bastards, so I grabbed a couple of rocks to ward them off should they charge.  Their owner appeared some moments later, so I spared the dogs and stoned the guy instead.  That’s my way of enforcing the leash law.  (Just kidding – there were no thrown rocks on this run).

Another cab back to the train station, and we made our way to our final (full-time) destination of Madrid. Two hours later, in the midst of the big city, we carted our luggage down Gran Via to our Air B&B room, in the shared apartment with our host.  The place was reasonably priced and centrally located, and the guy was friendly enough, but I did not like the idea of sharing his two-bedroom apartment for the next five nights.  Alas, Sai was in charge of food and lodging, while I handled inter-city transportation, general activities, and getting us lost, so it was not my call.

The three two of us headed out for a nice walk down Gran Via past some impressive-looking buildings (no time to stop or figure out what exactly they were, though the Palacio de Communications looked really nice), to a big park behind the Prado (Retiro).  Unfortunately, we went to the wrong place, and ended up paying a few euros to tour the Royal Botanical Gardens instead of the big, free city park, but it was still a pretty spot with all kinds of exotic plants from around the world.  Sai’s feet were hurting from the morning’s run… wait, she didn’t run.  Her feet were hurting from not running?  No, her feet were hurting because she refused to listen to her loving husband’s clear instructions about packing comfortable shoes for the trip.

Before we entered the nearby free museum (free between 7 – 9 p.m.), we stopped at a Farmacia to buy anything and everything we could to patch up Sai’s blistered toes. Before this trip with its endless small plates stacking to monster meals, I might have been able to carry her, but not by this point.  We needed help.  They spoke much better English than we did Spanish at the Farmacia, and found a great wrap for Sai’s toes which they even applied for her in store, to Sai’s relief and to the horror of other customers.  This gave her newfound footing to check out Reina Sofia, Madrid’s modern art museum.

Inside Reina, there is art from Picasso, Dali, and a bunch of other artists whose names were less recognizable to me, which isn’t a knock on their collection, just a sad observation of my own limited appreciation for the arts, modern or otherwise. Salvador Dali’s weird works were fun to analyze and to eavesdrop on others doing the same.  Watching a couple of women argue about how many hidden nude women in one of his paintings was entertaining, (the answer – not enough!), as well as seeing the reactions to SD’s “The Great Masturbator.”  Google it.  Dali was a weird dude.

Picasso’s piece de resistance is Guernica, a huge mural he drew in the 1930s to protest against Spain’s fascist movement and civil war. It was noted in the guidebooks as one of the most important art pieces of the 20^th Century.  I was moved to vow to never engage in war with fascist Spaniards or weird looking horses (good thing I took the trail less traveled on my morning run).

There were plenty of other “masterpieces” (though only the one “masturbator” as far as I saw), some of which looked like scribble, accidents, and / or pop culture drivel, but I’m not one to judge “art.” The museum was more than worth its price of admission.

Afterwards, Sai learned an important lesson that just because a restaurant is crowded, doesn’t mean it’s any good. Cerveceria 100 Montaditos is a fast food chain restaurant with cheap small sandwiches and reasonably priced big beers.  I liked it!  But the food was far from special, even if it was a change of pace from the tapas we’d ingested with every meal for the previous week plus.  Did I mention the big beers?

Cordoba is a small town. Seville and Granada both have a lot more to offer.  We probably could have skipped this stop and spent more time in either of those cities.  YMMV.

 

Tuesday, 10/7 – Palace, Prado, and Churros

For our first full day in Madrid, we decided to see just how much we could cross off the list. We followed a walking tour map past several highlights (Sol Plaza, Plaza Mayor, Mercado San Miguel, some famous old restaurant, and other quick stops before we reached the main destination – Palacio Real (Royal Palace).  The palace has some obscene number of rooms (close to 3000), of which we saw enough to appreciate its opulence, grandeur and scale.  Sorry Biltmore, White House, and DC’s Royal Palace, you got housed.  The royal armory on the same grounds was also interesting, with suits of armor for knights and horses on display, along with historical weaponry.

We passed the Royal Cathedral, Plaza of the Orient (unimpressive), Plaza de Espana (nothing like the one in Seville, and no hot flexible Russian women that I could see), back up Gran Via, and back down to the Prado, where we got in line for its free evening admission (6 – 8 p.m.). In case you’re wondering how Sai managed all of this walking, she spent a large share of our vacation funds on the most overpriced pair of Crocs (Los Crocs?) in all of Europe.  But if it kept her feet comfortable and cut down on the complaining, they were worth every penny euro.

Outside the Prado, we watched a group of acrobatic twenty-something year olds warmup in front of the museum. Standing there in line with nothing else to do, we anxiously awaited their street act.  Anticlimactically, rather than the breakdancing or gymnastics or choreographed entertainment we had hoped for, these “performance artists” instead each performed their own odd, random motion to demonstrate something as foreign to me as most of the modern art inside the Reina Sofia.  They had to warmup for that!?

Inside the Prado, we found works of art by Spanish masters such as Goya, Velasquez, El Greco (shouldn’t he be in Athens?), and Rubens. Rube that I am, I only recognized that last guy’s works on sight.  Fat chicks?  Ruben.  Sai and I both felt they overdid it on the religious themed art (but what do you expect from a Catholic country?), though “The Garden of Earthly Delights” by Hieronymus Bosch was pretty cool.  This twisted triptych (three panel) painting depicts a boring Garden of Eden, an orgy on Earth, and Hellish consequences.  I’m glad we left the bathhouse in Cordoba before things got out of hand, based on Bosch’s afterlife.  This classical 500 year-old piece could have held its own against the weird works of Reina.  Way too interesting for the stuffy Prado.

We completed our city circuit by passing back through Plaza Mayor, back to the Mercado San Miguel (a big food marketplace) and over to the Chocolateria San Gines, where we ingested the infamous churros con chocolate – six plain churros (not stuffed) that you dip into a mug of molten chocolate syrup for a drippy, sickeningly sweet, overwhelming orgy of flavor. I like churros and I like chocolate, but the powerful combination was too much for me! Afterwards, I was unable to look at another piece of chocolate in Spain without feeling nausea.  A more creative person than me should create an updated triptych with the churros con chocolate taking the place of Bosch’s orgy, leading to hell in the form of a gross bathroom or something (again, the idea needs someone more creative to flesh it out).

 

Wednesday, 10/8 – Toledo

Okay, enough of Madrid. We covered both the Palacio Real and Prado in the same day, topped off by too much chocolate to tolerate.  Time to head out of town to Toledo!  We metroed to the bus to Toledo (45 minutes away), whereupon we picked up on our old arguments about how to get around (I voted for using those appendages down below our knees, hers being the ones wearing the expensive Crocs, you’ll recall).  SWNH.  First stop, she wanted to eat something quick at the first place that was open.  As for me, I was still full from the churros the night before, and the place she picked looked rather… disgusting.  Sorry, couldn’t think of a better word for it.  Agujero de mierda, maybe.  The woman was going off the grid, not using her Yelp or TripAdvisor recommendations, nor following any kind of crowd.  Looks can be deceiving, but not in this case, as her food was not good.  I was grateful for two things:  First, that I had wisely passed on eating at this garden of earthly disgusts, and second, that Sai did not suffer the food poisoning I expected after consuming crap.  Her tough intestines from growing up eating street food in Bangkok really paid off.

The End.

Wait, what the hell? Sorry, that was where my transcript stopped.  We still had the balance of Wednesday in Toledo, plus two more days to spend in Espana before heading home.  What else did we do?  I’ll recount from memory a bit more, but it’ll lack the finer details.

Toledo – As boring as a city in Ohio. Wait, that’s not fair, I’ve never even considered visiting Toledo Ohio.  But the Spanish namesake was not very noteworthy.  Beyond the bad meal Sai managed to eat, we rode the bus around the small town and picked up some simple souvenirs for friends and family back home.  It was not a trip highlight.

Segovia – We spent part of one of our two remaining days on another daytrip from Madrid to the northwestern old city. This town was pretty cool.  The Roman aqueducts towered over the downtown square where we arrived.  There’s also a Cathedral and Alcazar, but we’ve seen those before.  The aqueduct and the rainy weather were the two big takeaways for us.  More interesting than Toledo, and worth a daytrip from Madrid.

Madrid – On one of our last remaining days of the trip (can’t remember if we went to Segovia on Thursday or Friday), we checked out the bullfighting arena. Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas is a big venue for watching bullshit.  Nothing like Camp Nou’s capacity of close to 100,000, Las Ventas only holds around 25,000 bloodthirsty fans, but it’s big by bullfighting standards.  We were not there for an event, just the tour.  And it was pretty interesting.  The guide talked us through the history and passion of the place and sport, presenting it as an honor for the animals and matadors alike.  There were heads of famous bulls inside the building’s museum with their stories of success in the ring.  There were outfits of the fighters with their stats as well (though no stuffed heads of these guys).  They had statues of the famous toreadors around the arena.  The bullfight consists of different parts, and there is an art to it.  It’s been too long to recount the specifics, but I was so moved by the experience that I left there, rented a Taurus and ran down some Spanish guys before going out for a steak dinner.  Bullfighting is brutal, but so is Muay Thai in Thailand, football / boxing / MMA in USA, and other bloody sports anywhere in the world.  What are you going to do, watch golf?

Sai and I both really enjoyed Madrid. From the guidebooks, we expected to like Barcelona better, thinking Madrid would just be like any other really big city.  But then again, we thought the same thing before we went to Rome, which ended up being our favorite city in Italy.  Sure, it is huge, crowded, lots of pedestrian and vehicle traffic.  But it was also very walkable, with lots of neat things to see in every direction.  There were enough parks and museums and palaces and plazas to escape to that you never felt claustrophobic.  Kind of like New York City, with Central Park being a reprieve from the congestion.

 

Denouement

Always wanted to use that word (even if it is of French origins), after seeing it in Clerks and having to look it up. In conclusion, Spain was a great trip, despite Sai being generally unhappy at most points along the way.  Usually her discomfort or disappointment would dissipate with the help of some tapas.  There are definitely other beautiful parts of Spain we would have liked to have seen, but there’s always reason to go back for more.

 

Adios.