Category: Spain

A Surprise in Spain

We’re in Spain. Emily and Miquel had invited us to celebrate her 30th birthday with them, so off we went to Barcelona on Thursday. Where they immediately announced ‘Some friends have lent us their holiday home near the coast for the weekend. Don’t unpack. We’re off in an hour.’

The sun was setting as we arrived at a village, somewhere near Girona. As we arrived, I was sure it must be the wrong place – there were cars in the drive, and this was no small holiday cottage. We got out anyway…. and a line of people appeared on the balcony singing ‘Happy Birthday’…. to me.

It was my family. My whole family. My three children, their partners and children, who had all secretly plotted and contrived to come here for a long-delayed 70th birthday celebration, just for me, here, this weekend. And I hadn’t suspected a thing.

On the actual day, two years ago, Ellie was in the middle of chemotherapy and celebrations were in short supply.

So here we are, all 15 of us, all in the same place at the same time – something that almost never happens. For a whole long weekend of glorious weather, spending our days playing with the children on the beach, and our evenings on the terrace outside eating, drinking and talking, always talking…..

Lunch by the beach

Emily’s birthday hasn’t even had a mention yet. That’s on Monday. We’ll celebrate that then, back in Barcelona.

Phone photos are hard to come by in bright sunshine. Here’s some fun in the pool at our weekend home.

Ragtag Saturday: Rus in urbe in Andalucia

Rus in urbe.  Signs of the countryside in town.  We spent a lot of our time in Andalucia, particularly in Córdoba and Málaga, hanging over river bridges staring at bird life, or gawping into trees to see what we could see.  Here’s a bit of a rogues’ gallery….

Cormorants on the river Guadalquivir…

Egrets, ditto.

Herons – or perhaps always just the same heron?  Fishing, always fishing.

A poor swallow (Was it a swallow?  Help me, someone) trapped in the synagogue in Córdoba, endlessly flying impotently towards the light, the incontestably glazed windows.

Then it was parakeets.  We’ve moved to Málaga now.  We could hear them all the time, squawking in the palm trees.  But this pair had time to bill, coo and preen.

La Concepción Botanical Gardens were at the edge of town.  But still definitively Málaga.  I offer you turtles…..

…. toads…

and – not from the Botanical Gardens – the inevitable herring gull.

 

And if it’s red squirrels you’re after, you’ll just have to read my last post.

As usual, click on any photo to view full size.  This is my entry for today’s Ragtag Challenge: rus in urbe.

Thursday Doors visits Córdoba

The Mezquita: a side door.
Palacio de la Merced: once a monastery.

Here’s my contribution to Thursday Doors. Follow the link to see pictures of humble doors, magnificent doors, old doors, new doors, village doors, town doors … all sorts of doors from around the world.

As usual, click on any image to view it full size.

Squirreling a snack

We’re back in England now, back to temperatures of under six degrees when we’d got used to nearer twenty in Spain.  Back to rain and wind instead of sunny breeze.  Still, I can sit and sort my photos out.

The view up – looking towards the Alcazaba: the adjoining castle to Gibralfro.

Here are some from the day we slogged up the 240′ to Castillo Gibralfro in Málaga. Part way up, we came upon this enchanting scene.

I know the arguments about the potential dangers to both humans and wildlife from too-close contact.  But these two Spanish children are not likely to forget, or be unaffected by this chance encounter with this little squirrel: or to resent the fact that he charmed the greater part of their mid-morning snack from them.

 

And here’s the view coming down.

Click on any image to view full size.

The Mandolin Players of Málaga

We’d been for a good meal with good wine in a cheerful local tapas bar. Now we were mooching contentedly round town, remarking on the fact that here we were, without coats, scarves and gloves, watching people enjoying themselves at outdoor tables in early March.

Music? Is that music? Oh yes, over there at that bar.

We were in one of the biggest open spaces in town, Plaza de la Constitución, and there at Café Central, seated at several pushed-together tables were about fifteen men with fifteen mandolins (or similar. We’re not experts), a double bass and a bit of percussion, making music.

They strummed. They sang. They joked and laughed. They were there to enjoy making music together. As an appreciative crowd gathered, they sometimes got us to join in too. Thank goodness for Guantanamera. Everyone knows that one.

Someone in the crowd bought them a round of drinks. We all cheered and clapped. Fifteen men of a certain age had made a pleasant evening special.

I bet they’ll be there next week. Same time, same place.

Botany and a bus ride

It seemed to be a long time before we found the right bus going at the right time to a terminus in the right place – beyond Málaga’s city limits. But we got there. La Concepción Historical-Botanical Gardens.

We quite enjoyed hiking round its Mediterranean landscapes, and visiting a desert-scape of giant and vicious looking cacti. We took a long forest walk with spacious mountain views one way, and a panorama of Málaga the other … and sadly, the motorway grumbling and roaring only just below. We agreed the place was lovely, worth exploring… but just a little under-loved and under-resourced.

We had lunch outside in the sunshine, and thought we might go home.

Thank goodness we didn’t. We had circled the outer edges of the gardens and failed to explore its heart. Here were subtropical glades, bamboo forest, tumbling jungle waterfalls. Shady, mysterious, quiet and only disturbed by birdsong.

Two Country Mice had a very enjoyable day.

A Spanish candidate for Jo’s Monday Walk. It’s Thursday but never mind.

Jo’s Monday walk

Con Happy End

It’s about to rain. But it’s been a good day. A favourite breakfast followed by a walk round Málaga’s 1000 year old port.

Then we found ourselves being unexpectedly tested: a walk high above Málaga, on a steep winding path taking us up 430 feet to the Gibralfaro castle. It’s a 14th century edifice, but once upon a time, in Phoenician-Punic times, this site was used for watching over the town, and the ships sailing in. So we did that too.

After that, to mop up the rest of the morning, we explored the market.

We’d earned our lunch. So we did what we always do. Watched where the workmen go. They have a nose for the simple establishments that cook good traditional food just like grandma makes, and at a good price. My fish couldn’t have been fresher.

And here’s what we spotted on the way home.

Goodbye Córdoba – hello Málaga

Córdoba, seen from the Torre del Calahorra, and looking across the Guadalquivir.

The thing is, we lost our hearts to Córdoba. It’s drenched in history from the Romans onwards. Even the bus station is an archaeological site. We stayed in a pleasantly ordinary part of town, only ten minutes from the old historic centre, but with not a tourist in sight. Our hostess, who’s lived in the city all her life, wanted us to love the place as much as she does. Apart from tourist tips, she told us how to get the best from her ‘patch’, explained where the locals ate, and generally wanted us to feel at home.

Here in Málaga we’ve ended up in a zone full of holiday apartments – yes, I know we’re part of the problem. It’s a part of town that’s achingly hip, self-consciously shabby-chic, and doesn’t seem to cater for every day shopping needs like bread and fruit. It reminds us that we are in fact tourists.

Still, let’s not complain. First world problems and all that. Here are a few shots to show that there will actually be plenty to discover and enjoy in our final few days.

Los Patios de San Basilio

We travelled to the 13th century today. We went to whitewashed houses, organised Arab style around central courtyards, ranged along – for the period – wide streets, designed to accommodate wheeled traffic. These were houses at one time lived in by crossbowmen and their families, ready to defend Córdoba as and when. Before that Jewish converts lived there, and later, Catholic working families.

What pleasant houses! Just right for a modern family! No, not so. These houses accommodated up to ten families, one to each room. Maybe a hundred people then….

Each house had a well. Each house had three or so small shared kitchens. Each house had a laundry room. And each house decorated its courtyard with flowers. I suggested that this was a modern idea, but was assured that the evidence is that these houses were always bright with cheerful blooms – the women’s job.

We visited several houses, all different. Here are some housekeeping tips.

Look. These are unglazed jugs. Water gradually drips from the top ones to the layer below, then the layer below that. At each stage the water becomes purer and cooler. Drink from the lowest jug.

Here are cobbles from a fairly affluent household. These are river stones, and arranged like this so that on the rare occasions that it rains, your feet will stay dry.

These overcrowded houses can’t have been as pleasant as they seem now. But given the choice between one of them and a tenement in Manchester during England’s Industrial Revolution, I know what I’d choose.