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I spent my last night in Spain in the same airport hotel in Malaga that I had spent my first night six weeks earlier. As T.S. Eliot said,
" We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time. "
Of course to quote these lines in reference to my holiday in Spain with good friends is ludicrous, but I did know the place for the first time. I knew to order the arugula pizza because it was delicious, whereas the first time I had just been lucky when I ordered it. The next morning I caught the plane for Paris at 5:50am.
In Charles de Gaul airport my good times came to an end when the Air France automated check-in machine spat out my passport. I knew that the employees were on strike, but had heard on the news that it would not involve long flights. Paris to Toronto is a pretty long flight. I tried to stay calm as I told the Air France employee my situation, but my voice was quavering. I was disappointed with myself because I have had critical thoughts about people I feel are overreacting when they are interviewed in airports at times of more serious confusion than a mere strike. Anyway, after she reviewed my papers and confirmed that I was flying home with them and WestJet, a member of their family of airlines, she looked me in the eye and said, "On s'occupe de vous." I became buoyant again at the sound of these words and followed her from one wicket to the next like a child who had lost her mom in a mall and was now happily back with her. In a short time she handed me a voucher for snacks in the airport, tickets for the shuttle, and a reservation at an airport hotel that included breakfast, lunch and dinner. I met a Vietnamese couple, we had two meals together and all went well until I got to Toronto. My bag was not booked through to Kelowna as I had been told it would be, no problem, I just picked it up and put it through myself. But then I encountered a WestJet employee who abruptly informed me that I was not booked through to Kelowna. I began to fear that the family of airlines, like many families, was not a close one. Fortunately, one of her colleagues had a more current passenger list and found my name on it. Then I just had to run to the carry-on baggage check, where my bag was chosen for special attention and I lost my hair scissors, continue quickly to the gate and board the plane for Kelowna. Jay picked me up and drove me home where I happily settled down on my own futon. And now I too have a travel tale that might buy me a few good meals.





The arugula pizza that began and ended my holiday in Spain





The southern tip of Greenland





Crocuses in the front yard






Skiing with Mo and John on Sunday

Almuñécar

We walked around Almuñécar looking at a few final sites, and as the last two days were sunny, we walked along the beach. Caroline and I even swam in the pool, well jumped in, went as fast as we could across it and got out. But we did lie on the grass in the sun for a while. As it is Mela's birthday on Saturday, we had a little celebration. Caroline had thought ahead as she always does and brought a card, candles, and signs. I who hadn't as usual was lucky to find a surprisingly good little kids' cake when I was walking home from the beach in the morning. As it was a kids' cake, Mela and I ate the Smarties and icing off the last bits as the boys used to do, although one time they did it before anyone got to the cake.









Statue in the centre of Almuñécar honouring farm workers








The town of Almuñécar in recognition of our farm workers who with their labour and sacrifice succeeded in creating and conserving the land that welcomes us








Remains of a Roman aqueduct from around the first half of the first century A.D.








Caroline serving our last supper, paella on the beach at the first restaurant she, Mela and I went to in Almuñécar.







View from our balcony on our last night in Almuñécar

Last days around Almuñécar

We had a slow start on Saturday. It was a windy, rainy day, so we sought solace in our old friend, the Mercadona. She did not disappoint. Plain on the outside, she's got inner riches, good inexpensive wine and liquor, Sereno ham, aged cheese, and this time wonderful ribs which Caroline found at a great price. We drove home with our booty and Caroline made Tillie's dry garlic ribs, a meal that warmed us in spite of the cool stone floors and cement walls of our house which would be perfect on a hot summer day but hold the chill of early spring. Caroline also used the two Seville oranges she had collected on the day we visited the Alcazar, together with the sugar she had been getting us to save throughout the trip for no clear reason, to make marmalade. We ate it for breakfast the next day. It had the real bite of the marmalade my family used to have for breakfast on toast with bacon. I tried to approximate the Boyce treat by substituting Serrano ham for bacon. It was great.
On Tuesday we drove to Montril to tour a rum factory I had read about. We began with coffee, cortados, and churros from a genuine hole in the wall churro factory like the ones they have for tacos in Mexico. The tour of the El Montero rum factory was good, the tasting also. We each bought a bottle. On the drive home we stopped in Salobreña to satisfy our curiosity about the place. The woman who speaks on the GPS we have has a way of mispronouncing the name that is so irritating and so often repeated it drives us either to distraction or uncontrollable fits of laughter. Finally we were actually there and happy to be so. It's a small town but parts of it are beautiful, the ruins of the castle are large and fun to walk around, especially when the wind is blowing wildly, as it was. It provides some good views of the town and sea. As we walked back to the car we stopped at small restaurant for a beer and snack. The bread and cheese were very good and the 'habitats con jamón alpujarreño' or broad bean with ham salad was excellent. It's a local spring specialty when the beans are in season. We were happy to have experienced a bit of the hood.










The churros factory in Motril








Us at the Ron Montero Rum Distillery in Montril








The entrance to the distillery








A view of Part of the castle and the town of Salobreña








Inside the castle

Seville Cathedral/Mosque and Giralda

On Friday we visited the enormous cathedral/mosque of Seville. It was beautiful, cold and imposing. I don't know if even the heat of a Seville summer could warm it's stone and marble. But just being in a place that has been built and decorated by such skilled and devoted craftsmen and artists does fill one with awe. The amount of gold squandered on it is less impressive.
Again, my favourite part was the Giralda, the slender, beautiful bell tower. The upper section is a Renaissance bell tower, built from the mid to end of the 16th century. Beneath this is the simple beauty of the original Almohad minaret, built in the late 12th century. Topping it all is a bronze statue of Faith the functions as a giraldo or weather vane.
After the tour, we picked u food for the road and drove home to Almuñécar.




The Giralda of Seville


The tomb of Christopher Columbus in the Cathedral


A view from a lookout partway up the Giraldo


A view of the Cathedral and part of Seville from near the top of the Giralda


The genuine Almohad bronze door knockers. Between them are the two most valuable articles in the tower, two very early lamps which were excavated quite recently.

Seville

On March 14 we began by taking final walks in Córdoba, going our separate ways. I went to see the remains of the Caliphate baths and the statue of Abu al Walid (Averroes). Then we met at the hotel to drive to Seville.
It wasn't a long drive, and the old centre of the city is easier to get into than either Grenada or Córdoba. Our hotel was quite close to the Alcázar, so the first thing we did after registering was to walk there to see it and the cathedral/mosque from the outside. Although we were in the old part of the city, close to the river and the main sites, there wasn't the same feel of being in an old town that there was in Córdoba and Granada.
The next morning, to celebrate Jay's birthday, we walked to and through the Alcazar. It's a huge palace complex that is still lived in by the Spanish royal family when they are in Seville. I don't think they were there when we were but I saw on tv a few nights earlier that their photos were being held upside down and burned by angry Catalans in Barcelona. Like so many other places we have visited in this part of Spain, the Alcazar consists of architecture from many different historical periods: Moorish (11th and 12th century), Gothic (13th century after the "Reconquista"), Mudéjar (14th century when Moorish design and decoration was incorporated into the buildings and the work was often done by Islamic craftsmen who remained in Spain and did not convert to Catholicism) and Renaissance (15th and 16th century after the Moors were almost completely expelled from Granada and all of Spain around 1492 by 'Los Reyes Catholicos').
We spent hours walking through the rooms, gardens and maze and then had a beer and snack outside at the cafeteria.







A part of the Alcazar that was modelled after the Alhambra





The Grotto section that I found fascinating, if rather ugly. According to the sign explaining it, it's a 17th century Mannerist style sometimes understandably called 'grutesco'. The mortar oozes out in rocky blobs from between the large stones. This supposedly creates the impression of nature integrated with architecture.





This was the day that the last of the Seville oranges in the garden were knocked off the trees. The almond trees were beginning to blossom.





Part of a very large Flemish tapestry





A peacock who joined us for lunch. They are the symbolic bird of the Alcazar.

Philosophy and Food

Córdoba was also home to two well known philosophers, Averroes
(Muslim 1126-1198) and Maimonides(Jewish1135-1204). They each had many areas of interest and study, including the attempt to reconcile religious belief and philosophical reasoning. Both were influenced by Aristotle and thus were largely responsible for reintroducing his ideas into Western thought.






Albert,our philosopher, with Maimonides





Averroes





Us awaiting lunch at the Puerta de Luna restaurant. I had rabo de toro, an Andalusian specialty,a tasty ox tail stew.





Don and me under an orange tree in front of the Puerta de la Luna.

Córdoba

On Tuesday morning we went on a guided tour of the Mesquite in Cordoba. Again we had a good guide, a young woman who showed up right on time but immediately launched into an apology in such rapid English I could hardly understand her. She went on to explain that the people of Córdoba are known in Spain as fast talkers. It's true. My Spanish is not great but it's helped us at times. I had trouble understanding in Córdoba. She went on to express a few negative personal opinions about politicians and then began an informative tour. She included many details about the blending of styles in this magnificent church/mosque. They have found remnants of an original Visigoth church which was followed by a mosque, the building of which was begun in 784 by Abderrahman 1 whose statue is in Almuñécar, where he first landed. The mosque was considerably enlarged during subsequent Arab caliphates and finally converted back to a church after the 'Reconquista' in 1236. Each period respected or at least recycled some of the works of the previous ones. It's fascinating to be shown the details of how this was done. Our tour ended with a walk through the Jewish quarter, where we were left to wander on our own. Later that afternoon I climbed the bell tower to see what remained of the minaret around which it was built and to get an overview of the city.







The blending of Christian and Muslim influences in the church/mosque of Córdoba





San Raphael, the patron saint of Córdoba





Us in the mosque/church



The bell tower


What remains of the minaret inside the bell tower


A view of Córdoba from the bell tower


The roof of the cathedral/mosque from the bell tower

Córdoba and Seville

Sunday,March 11 was the eighth anniversary of Jim's death. Caroline, Mela and I talked about him as we made coffee. We went to the flea market after breakfast where I bargained with a young Moroccan man. For the second time in my life I got a really good deal on something I wasn't sure if I really wanted. I think the young man thought I was driving a hard bargain because I almost walked away a few times, but I really didn't know if I wanted the thing. In fact even now I don't know which one of us came out on top. Probably both of us. I bought something that I might want for a reasonably good price and he made a sale. Albert and Don got infectiously excited about and convinced us all to contribute to the purchase of tickets for a Euro Lottery which could have made us multi millionaires but I know by now only won us 7euros. Then we filled up the car and went home to prepare for the trip on Monday to Córdoba and Seville.

We drove inland from the Mediterranean, over jagged rocky hills that are non-the-less cultivated in terraces in every possible place then into the heavily cultivated flatter land toward Córdoba. Again we had some trouble getting into the old part of town, but with the help of a policeman we got to where I could speak into the microphone to ask that the bollard be lowered and after a few more inquiries we found our hotel. Albert parked the car and we didn't see it again until we left two days later. Córdoba is a wonderful city to walk around at this time of year. The weather is not perfect but it's better than in many parts of the world at this moment and there are not too many people at the sites. We walked around a while, had a rest in the hotel and went out for dinner.



The outer wall of the cathedral/mosque of Córdoba, right across from our hotel


Albert and Don near the statue to St Raphael (the patron saint of Córdoba) in Plaza del Potro(colt)


A memorial to Cervantes in Plaza del Potro. He lived in Córdoba for a few years when he was young.


The name of this bar caught my eye since I come from Thunder Bay where there are lots of mosquitoes and what fascinates me most about the history of this part of Spain is the Moorish period and the mosques.

A Syrian Immigrant circa 755AD

This morning Mela, Don and I walked into town. We had a cortado at the Casablanca Hotel. Then we walked up to the cross on the point of land nearby. In spite of the cross, the person commemorated with a statue at the base of the point is a Syrian, Abderrahman 1, who was commonly known as The Immigrant. His family had ruled Syria for years but when they were overthrown, he had to flee and eventually made it to the coast of Almuñécar in 755AD. He stayed and spearheaded the creation of an independent Emirate ; he became the Emir.






















A quotation from Abderrahman 1:
Oh palm tree
You are like me
A stranger in the west
Remote from your homeland










The ubiquitous locks are here too

Settling in

For the last week, aside from a tour of the Cuevas de Nerja, we have settled into living in Almuñécar. We drove to the caves on Sat. March 3 and this time got tickets for a tour. It was spectacular. Nerja Caves – Cuevas de Nerja – are a series of huge caverns stretching for almost five kilometres and home to the world’s largest stalagmite, about 32 metres tall. They were lived in for thousands of years, millennia before Christ. There are ancient wall paintings but the parts of the caves where they are aren't open to the public because they are too delicate and are still being studied. You're not allowed to take flash photography. I didn't know my iPhone camera was on flash but found out it was when it went off and the guide saw it. I got a stern warning. Albert showed me how to turn it off, which I hadn't known before. The temperature in the caves is almost always around 19c., perfect to live in. The formations are breathtaking.






We have had a lot of rain, some strong winds and a few clear nights with bright full moons.
Caroline and Albert left on Tuesday to celebrate their 50th anniversary in Madrid. The rest of us had been to Madrid before and thought they would appreciate a few days on their own. They took the train from Malaga, so Albert was relieved of driving duties for a while. Mela and I are planning a welcome home dinner for them tomorrow.
I've enjoyed settling into days walking around the house and town. From our house you walk down a road to the shore of the Mediterranean and then turn either right to walk about 3km into town or left and walk about 2km to a rocky point that has one of many old defence towers along the shore on top of it.
Yesterday Mela and I walked into Almuñécar to try the spa at the Almuñécar Playa Spa Hotel. My high hopes for it were not exactly realized, except for the sauna that was good and hot. It was also the first one I'd been in since we sold ours that you could take first dry and then wet. Usually they don't let you put water on public saunas. But I overdid it and almost fainted. Mela told me to sit with my head between my knees for a while, which did help, but the change room was small and damp so I didn't feel really normal until I left the spa. Mela and I had thought of going a few times but as most of the hot tubs, etc. were disappointing, I think we won't.
Today was beautiful. I had a good walk to the tower.

Granada

Our next excursion was an overnight. We were on the road before 11:00am and after a bit of confusion getting out of Almuñécar,
drove to Granada with no problem, thanks to advance planning by Albert and Caroline. The land north of here is mostly dry, rugged, stony hills, many of which appear to have been terraced for centuries and planted in trees. The only ones we could identify were the almonds because they were in bloom. Many had the silvery grey look of olives. All must be rejoicing in the heavy rain that is falling everywhere now.
As we got close to Granada we could see ahead and to the right the high snow capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada.
Since I was last in Granada with Jim in 1979, much has changed, mostly because of the growth in tourism. An average of 6,000 people visit the Alhambra each day. For this reason we had to make hotel and tour reservations in advance. The roads in the central part of Granada are closed to all traffic, except taxis, buses and tourists with hotel reservations, in an effort to limit pollution. Albert was aware of this and drove us right up to where a bollard closed the road. There was a speaker beside it into which I spoke, giving our hotel name. The bollard magically lowered, and we drove into the old city. It was easy to find the hotel, but Albert had to do some difficult backing up and negotiating of three very sharp turns before our car was safely parked under our hotel. We didn't touch it again until we were about to leave.
Our hotel, Monjas del Carmen, was perfectly located. We walked to an Arab restaurant for a shwarma lunch and then walked around to reconnoiter our route to the Alhambra for the next day. We soon decided we would take a taxi to the Alhambra. We spent the rest of our day visiting the cathedral, shopping and buying tickets for a Flamenco show that night. The latter was terrific. It took place in a tiny theatre in a Flamenco school. The guitarist was tall, gorgeous and a great musician. The singer was short, round and sang as if obsessed by some throaty, moody, gypsy spirit. Together they looked like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. The female dancer had solid legs, a very stern expression and arms that rose and fell in sharp erratic jerks that sometimes lifted her skirt with them. The male dancer was very tall and thin with a high water jacket and movements so strenuous that his long hair was dripping and clinging to his face after his first few moves. As I have never seen Flamenco before I can't rate the performance we saw, but I was thoroughly pleased with it.
Our tour to the Alhambra the next day went off like clockwork. We had a well informed but not pedantic guide who told us interesting stories. The flowers in the gardens were limited to pansies and daffodils and we couldn't get right up to some of the areas we had been able to in 1979, but it was well worth the visit.
After a delicious snack in the Parador de Granada, we returned to our hotel and drove home.

As it was February 28, Blake's Birthday, Mela was sad as we drove back to Almuñécar. She and Caroline and I toasted Blake before we drank our tequila that night. He and Margaux used to join us for tequila shots so it seemed fitting.











Our hotel in Granada











Casa del Arte Flamenco











Alhambra











Seville oranges in the Alhambra









The ceiling of the sultana's room taken as if for a selfie into a pool of water immediately under the ceiling. This was a point at which our guide had to hustle us through. I can imagine what it must be like in high season.








The hammams of the Alhambra. They made me think of some parts of the Blue Ocean Jimjilbong in Incheon.








The Arab quarter of Granada as seen from the Alhambra.








Mela, Caroline and me at the ruins of the salt plant in Almuñécar.