Historias de la Gran Patranha

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Day 9 - Burgos and Las Huelgas (medieval history galore)

Plaza Mayor, Burgos, in case I had not shown this earlier.

The following day brought more sun and warmth. We visited the amazing cathedral - way to "rococo" for Phil, who was disgusted at the splendour and riches of the church. I enjoyed the detailed gargoyles, architectural little corners carved with figures, and the Capilla de los Condestables with their wonderful tombs.

Took photos galore but will not punish you with them - I'll just introduce you to the "condestabla" :-p and "condestabe".

Then we went to the monastery of Las Huelgas - by which stage Phil was unfortunately all "churched out". I enjoyed the guided visit of the "house for the daughters of kings", most of which became abbesses with great power - administrative and judiciary, independent, only accountable to the Pope.

Since my photos are crap, and we were not allowed to take any of the nice bits, you better check out the photos on the official site here

The name of "Las Huelgas" comes from the leisurely pastures that were located in the area, to feed the king's cattle; as it was "royal stock", the animals were not to do any labour, so they spent their days doing nothing ("huelgando").

Apart from the issue with the abbess, the animals, and the enclosed nuns that still live there, there's the absolute wonder of the mozarab (almohade? something...) influence that colours the place. The king, admirer of such architecture, employed Arabic motifs all over and thus one can find Arabic arches as entrance to catholic churches and chapels, ceilings decorated with multicoloured peacocks, geometric shapes, Arabic script in the cloister, and a most wonderful "techo artesonado", as in any mosque, overlooking the kings oratory or little chapel where he was knighted.

Now... on to the most surreal story of medieval cunning...

The "knighting" business seems taken out from Blackadder; this chap became king ad the tender age of eleven following the death of his father. Thus, with the old king dead, when the time came to knight the child so that he was ready for battle, they couldn't find anyone higher than him in rank (I guess that in height they could have just called the cook in the taberna next door; biggest - as in height and shape - cook I have ever seen!). So, they decided to get God to knight him. But, since God must have been unavailable to attend the celebration at the time due to sundry commitments, some intelligent courtiers - or maybe the king himself - ordered an effigy of St. James holding a sword on his right hand and with his left hand open. Nothing special, huh? Well, the arms were mobile - like Mari Carmen y sus muñecos (which you'll only know if you were a child in Spain in the eighties) - so that Santiago himself could place on and hit with the sword the king's shoulder twice with his right hand and give him the "espaldarazo" - pat in the back - with the left hand personally... ingenious/ingenuous or what?

Finally, the visit to the museum of dress and fabric located in the monastery gave us a great glimpse of some superbly maintained pieces - taking on account that these dresses survived the decomposition of the corpses they were on, of course - and showed us that knights wore skirts (big girls they were with their saintly puppets and all...).

I leave you with a photo of the aforementioned taberna opposite las Huelgas... where we ate yummilicious "huevos estrellados".

Labels: Burgos, Camino de Santiago, holidays, Las Huelgas, medieval, Road to Saint James, road trip, Spain, surreal

11:37 am | Permalink |

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Day 8 - Wonderful Burgos

Fell asleep; too comfy, room too nice and too quiet, so now I'll fill in the bits of the rest of the day.

The Médulas were defo a landscape hit and they also allowed us to get lost through some fun little twisty roads. One of the surprising qualities of the landscape was that there was a lot of greenery and wet muddy grounds all over the place thanks to the blessed shadow of the contorted chestnut trees that populated the area. It seems that in the autumn they close the park for two weeks or so so that the locals can gather the "castañas" for the products they prepare: from "cocido con castañas" to all kinds of sweets.

Anyway, once we were out of the place and rolling on the motorway, the landscape started morphing slowly into wonderful planes of ochre and yellow patches littered with fractal brick villages (of the one-bell-tower or two-bell-towers kind depending on the wealth of the medieval Lord - which would include the presence of a Castilian castle - or the wealth of their trade - cereal, wine...). Another wonderful feature was the wind turbines, great wind farms scattered along the sometimes monotonous landscape, adorning the far horizons of pure blue and foggy grey. Even the road saw a wealth of lorries carrying the humungous blades for the turbiens and other bits and pieces to build yet more of the modern windmills. No wonder Don Quixote thought these lands were populated by giants.

This would have blown D. Quixote's mind (just a little bit more)

A river, at last, green and fresh

So, we got to Burgos, big town, small river with wide green banks, bridges, broad shaded and elegant promenades, old style bookshops, antiquarian cafés, multicolored squares and a white and beautifully imposing cathedral to which al roads lead. Its musical portico is one to behold, as are many of the other details carved on its different sides.

To the Cathedral

Wowness in white

We walked around and upwards (again!) to the castle, to see the sunset and enjoy a bit of music. The touristy "chu-chu" train followed us so it could have been an idea to hop on, but Phil mentioned the words "rather dead than seen in...", so sod his foot sores, little pilgrim, you'll be flip-flopping through the town on your own two pretty legs (the photo of the beblistered chap complaining on the portico sums up the idea quite well).

Going up to the castle

... he acquired some blisters ...

... but got to admire the sunset.

Our hotel, La Puebla, located in the street of the same name, was a little jewel. For 74€ we had a stylish place in the centre of the town; well equipped, huge bed where you can easily lose your partner, very quite despite the works outside, lovely decor and toilet (individual light on top of the shower to give your mornings that lovely feeling). Breakfast wasn't anything special but staff were very helpful and despite not having a record of our reservation - I'm sure I called! - they were able to find us a place. Parking was full at hotel so we left the car two minutes away in the Plaza Mayor parking (at 14€ per night, it was fair enough).

Another highlight of the visit was the food. Despite the slow and moody service (maybe we weren't posh enough?), the food served at the "urban taberna" La Favorita was wonderful: tempura of artichokes, most lovely veggies, skewered fillet steak for Phil and "callos" with fried egg for me (yummy!). Somehow we managed to get lost on the way back and to get soaked in the hot and sudden storm that fell all through the night.

... and with some yummy food, until the next stage, our bellies and souls are filled to the brim.

Labels: Burgos, cathedral, holidays, Hotel La Puebla, La Favorita, road trip, Spain, travel

2:27 pm | Permalink |

Sunday, August 08, 2010

Day 7 - August, almost a year ago at Las Médulas

Right: we have spent the weekend with the family and Phil has survived - he has even been showing off his Spanish skills, "bonding" with my dad and my mum. The "bonding with my dad" bit was enforced by the fact that the sofa Phil was sitting on broke under him (who ate all the pies? or should I say... who ate all the "empanadillas"?). The rest of the bonding was due to the swimming pool where the three of them splashed, floated and swam (maybe it is Free Willy rather than Moby Dick...hum, sounds so wrong).

My dad's b'day went well - everyone ate lots of ridiculously overpriced fish - and Phil and I got by on a tiny ration of "raxo". Then, the next day, lunch with my grandad in Phils favourite "hood"; Barrio de las Flores. Such was his involvement in the events, that he got to finish his thumping big book in the 2 days.

So, loads of extended coffee and "sobremesa" with the family, beer with friends and steak for dinner at home with mum and dad (they had bought enough steak to feed a small army). And then, on the road again to Las Médulas, the range of Roman gold mines set in the frontier between Galicia and Castilla León.

The motorway to the place was empty, so it took us around two hours and a half to get there. Then, after some discrepancies with the sat nav, we got to the parking and there, wisely covered ourselves in suncream and donned our hats, as it was as hot as hell: 1 pm at Las Médulas in August was like the wild wild west, above all with the amazing red crags, mountains,c aves and random formations which crop up in every corner, as in the Valley of the Gods in Denver - with a Latin flavour.

We ate my granny's empanadillas under a chestnut tree - thank god for those! The difference in temperature between shadow and sun was certainly noticeable. We did walk around 2 km., taking the short route to two of the main caves; La Cuevona and La Encantada, and that was long enough to make me believe I had acquired a new ailment: sudden death caused by walking exertion. I sooo need to get fit...

After a fresh Coke in a rather shady touristy bar, we drove to the Mirador de Orellán. Making sure up there that we left the car parked with lots of handbrake, we walked the longest 0.6 km to the top...

(are we there yet?)

Thankfully, there was an absolutely worth and amazing view from the end of the road over the whole conglomerate of the Médulas. An amazing eerie landscape of red and green, the leftovers, shreds and bits left of a majestic mountain eroded and exploded by hand, with water, by the Romans. Next time we visit the Médulas, perhaps just going to the Mirador can do the trick - you can even visit one of the galleries inside the mountain there, but itwas closed for lunch. Nevertheless, avoid visiting the place from 13:00 to 15:00; no wonder it is a desert! (green, but desert nevertheless).

Labels: holidays, Médulas, road trip, Spain

5:24 pm | Permalink |

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Day 5 - last leg of the first part of our trip

Alevia was like travelling back in time. The evening amusement for the villagers seemed to be to check out the new stallion "in the hood" in the main square (plot of grass with big tree in the middle), and then went for a chato de vino in the only bar in the village. The horse was still there in the morning; they had found a snug strip of grass for him next to the old church... on the best spot with a view. He has now been immortalised in one of the photos our our trip, see below, taken by Phil as I was not on photographing mood.

... and this was the view behind him...

So, when we woke up, the skies had cleared and we could ascertain that we were certainly pretty high up (as per the photo above). The view still magnificent, the bill fine (85€ for our room and a magnificent yummy brekkie was pretty fair), the car still there, waiting for us, and the day lovely...

Thus, we set off towards Galicia. Curvy road on the way down from Alevia and curvy road all through the mountains - we have GPS photo to prove the crazy orography of the area.

Phil loved the drive, I endured it (not feeling too well). Through amazing crevasses, cut by rivulets and wild plants, some of walls surrounding us were sweating water and moss. The rock was grey, white, reddish at times, and stood up in the worst climber-defying of shapes.

The view from the mirador at Poo de Cabrales - chosen because I thought it would be fine to take Phil to a place called "poo"... childish but ever so endearing... - was rather incredible. The vertical panettone of the Naranco de Bulnes, highest mountain of the peaks and one of the highest in Spain, appeared surrounded by other mountains and valleys, and the walls around it were spotted with caves and specks of snow... lovely!

From there, we were supposed to go to the Cuevas del Agua, to see the Cuevona, where you can drive through a natural tunnel, but somehow the GPS missed the trick and directed us straight away to the motorway - maybe it was trying to tell us something.

My mum had told us to get to Coruna by 3 so that we could go out on the boat with my uncle. Only that our planned time of arrival was 6, so we declined the invitation. Somehow, though, the kilometres seemed to fly past with the lovely view of the sea on one side and the mountains on the other, with the damn heat falling on us and my resilient wish to keep the roof of the car put in place as shelter... ah, the heat, the heat, too much to bear - and yes, I would have also complained had it been raining.

So, somehow, we drove so quickly and my uncle was so late that we did get to Coruna for four ish and he was waiting for us on the boat, but at that stage I was feeling so ill that as soon as I stepped on the pontoons at the port, all the world seemed to just be moving too much, so we just touched base on Santa Cruz, in the lovely new house specially kitted for us by my mum, while my sister, friend, and uncle, boated along.

As soon as I got home, I went straight to bed (it didn't move, yay!), Phil got to wash the car, drive my mum around (she adored the little car), then he swam with my parents in the swimming pool (a scene worthy of Moby Dick) and seemingly, my uncle and co. on the boat got to the middle of nowhere in the ocean and had to be rescued as they run out of petrol... so am glad we didn't join them.

Labels: Alevia, Casona d'Alevia, Naranco de Bulnes, Picos de Europa, Poo de Cabrales, road trip, Spain, summer, tourist, travel

8:42 pm | Permalink |

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Day 3 - In Donostia / San Sebastian

Well; yesterday then... We got to Donostia. It was a bit of a traffic nightmare since the centre is very busy and may of its streets were closed due to the Fiesta Grande.... that, and the suicidal tourists and locals that decided to take their chances at a "tete-a-tete" with our pretty car.

We loved the landscape on the way here: we didn't have the time to stop at Hondarribia, which we only glimpsed from afar (and which looked lovely, perched on the side of a mountain over the sea). Pasaia, industrial port with the most incredible plunging and green fjord, and then Donostia, also mountainous with two great beaches, a cycling and walking town full of lovely French style buildings.

This is a country of cyclists; despite the enormous slopes, all our trip in the Basque country was dotted by semi-pro cyclists, many just kids training, the Indurains of the future, going steadily up hill without flinching.... oh, and, of course, one should also mention the all prevailing frontones for Pelota Vasca & cesta (canasta? dunno). In fact, we also spotted a couple of bullring dotted between cyclists and frontones. There were quite a number of ads for bullfights which gave us the impression the French Basque were a bit crazier than the Spanish Basque for toros.

(from our room)

My dad had proposed to pay for the Hotel Maria Cristina, favoured by the VIPs of the Cinema events that take place in Donostia on a yearly basis... the price though made us cough more than once, so I spared him the pocket pain by choosing something cute, not in the middle of the town and slightly different.

Our room in Hotel La Galería has just got views of the beach, situated under Monte Igueldo it is pretty much away from town, but that can only be a good thing given the mayhem of people down there. There's a lovely seaside walk that allows you to reach the other mountain in around twenty minutes walking, so it is not too bad. Parking was an absolute nightmare due to the "R" (resident) areas and the very-keen-to-fine traffic wardens which were on full bloom. Unfortunately the hotel had less than adequate parking space (as in, almost no space!) for parking, so we were too late to blag a little spot there. We got the Dali room and our views on the sea are thanks to the fact that the building next door was demolished at some point, yay!!!

(not the luxury of Hotel Mria Cristina but check out the angelical sleepy face!)

For dinner we walked to the old town - with the rest of the town it seems, as the streets were packed. On the beach, the people were busily hiring chairs and sitting looking to the same point. We could not fathom what all that was about until we got to the end of the promenade, closed an surrounded by police guarding mysterious black containers, like little urns, closed with tin foil which were... FIREWORKS! Seeing the amount of explosive material stored there, it was going to be a damn big display. As part part of the Semana Grande, the council brings on each day of the week a different firework team from Valencia and Castellón. Also, on the promenade, there were lots of music shows, many put on by the council... a full regalia of events all around us.

(here's a photo from somewhere over the promenade - starting to get gloomy)

The firewroks were just great; Phil thought the show would last five minutes or so, so when we got off the taxi that took us back to hour hotel - with a very informed driver who just told us the story of every single building on our way - he did not bother really to run to the seaside to watch them; ah, thou were lacking faith, my friend, Semana Grande fireworks should be of at least one hour, which was the case... so we had time to go and sit out with the rest of Donostia, on the beach.

All in all, quite a nice end of the day, apart from the pintxos; crowded, greasy and disappointing. Of course we didn't go to the best pintxos places because they were too crowded (the guide seemed to mention that the crowded ones were the best, of course, but if they are crowded, how the hell are you to reach the food?). I got to taste the "txacoli", typical drink which was basically the same as a slightly sparkly white wine. It was a bit of a shame as I had expected to find some sort of cathedral of food, but ended up in a repetition of Calle de la Estrella (if you are from Coruna, you'll know). Ah, and before I forget, we also saw a pasacalles with cabezudos who were hitting the public with pig's bladders. So I had to take Phil away before he reacted violently - can you imagine him trying to K.O. a cabezudo? - and we hid at the door of the church of San Sebastian, a very fitting name for the town, of course.

So I will leave you there, imagine us both hiding away in a portico while the scary cabezudos just did what they do best and Phil got really annoyed at this display of traditional stuff that would not go down well in the UK. Next day, a bit more Donostia and then on the road again!

Labels: holidays; Hotel la Galería; Donostia;, road trip, Spain, tourist

6:42 pm | Permalink |

Friday, April 13, 2007

Back from Easter!

So we went to the hotel of mum and dad on our holidays. Much to our awe, that was the only thing we could afford. We spent most of Easter eating tapas and then most of the after Easter eating half-price chocolate eggs (cannot even afford to buy them in their time!). Unfortunately, the weather in the island did throw a nice two fingers up to us when we left and decided to be brilliant while we enjoyed our tapas under a cloud and grey skies. Yay. So my cunning plan of spending the full two weeks sitting next to the swimming pool showing off my plaster-white pins has been thrown down the drain and I am now covering the blunder with self tan cream. Am yellow but happy.

More photos of our holiday shenanigans here.

Labels: Galicia, holidays, photography, rain, Spain

8:19 am | Permalink |