Historias de la Gran Patranha

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.


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

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

A river, at last, green and fresh

To the Cathedral

Wowness in white

Going up to the castle

... he acquired some blisters ...

... but got to admire the sunset.

... 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

Labels: holidays, Médulas, road trip, Spain

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

Labels: Alevia, Asturias, Casona d'Alevia, Donostia, Getaria, holidays, kittens, road trip

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

Labels: breakfast, Café la Paix, France, holidays, La Rochelle, Maison du Palmier, road trip, summer, tourist

DAY 1

Our plants will be dead when we return, but this holiday is well worth the life of the couple of semi-defunct cacti that are decorating our mantelpiece.

We woke up at 5 (figure that, I didn't even have to be kicked out of the bed for this), got on the road at 6 with the sun, and eventually arrived to Dover well before our ferry was due.

On the road from home to the port, the fog was so thick, it could have been sliced with a knife and spread on toast. After half an hour of cautious driving in the foggiest of fogs, somewhere in Surrey the "intelligent" panels on the road kindly reminded us motorists that there was some sort of fog hazard around (thanks for the tip, guys). In the deep haze, the sun looked spooky and unreal, like a round cheese floating in the sky, slowly changing colour to a potent yellow disk. No wonder the Mayans had the jitters every time the heavenly bodies behaved funny, on a day like this they would have been rushing to their pyramids to start a sacrifice binge.

Still, Dover did receive us with less and less of that fog, and we were able to check out the famous white cliffs (I had been banging about this for a long time now and can tick the box of being there and doing that at last). Unfortunately, only the white cliffs were worth it; Dover, at least the way to the port, was ehm....

... nice or what?

Of course we were not sorry to leave the country after this view. Do they do it on purpose to discourage immigration? We hoped things looked brighter, warmer, nicer on the other side. And well, they did start looking much better from the boat... white cliffs bye byeeee!


We reached Calais in 2 hours; long flat beaches, blue sea, concrete blocks & towers... just like a Spanish seaside resort in grey. In fact, right after the big sign indicating CALAIS (in case you had gotten on the wrong boat), we were welcome by the wonderful view of "BooZers, Spirit of Calais" a shopping centre designed for the classy tourist.


Yes, it didn't look any prettier on the other side. Thankfully, the road took us away from the concrete-hole of Calais avoiding as much of it as possible. And now it did start feeling like a holiday - roof down, warm weather, tidy fields of grain with big rolled-up, lined-up, stacks of hay, and long, straight, empty motorways. Finding our way was so smooth that we wondered how travel was possible before the advent of the Tom-Tom. Kinder Bueno & Lion Bar for lunch (melted before reaching the mouth).

After the absolute rip-off péage (for the long empty motorways aforementioned), we hit Le Havre. Not as horrendous as Calais, jewel of the crown, only because it seems like a functional industrial port - thus with industrial stuff, not masqueraded with a sheen of cheapo tourist make-up. Also, extra points to it for not having a BooZer supermarket for its most wonderful bridge (rip-off part 2 but wonderful structure!)



(20 degrees; 13:45, 5€ to cross)


Stopped for petrol just before the entrance of Le Havre 52€ for a life-saving tankfull of the black stuff - we had just depleted the last drop in the tank! Phil changed to flip-flops and decided to drive bare-footed, what a hippie. Also noted the unmanliness of wearing sea-sickness bracelets, but better safe than sorry!

Further péage and all the cows seem to be sleeping siestas under trees, thirsty for the shadow, what a life.


We arrived pretty fast to Mt. St. Michel; not worth stopping anywhere around a motorway anyway. In fact, we arrived early than predicted so the 1 hour queueing to get from one side of the parking to the other side and our specific spot didn't bother us that much. Of course finding our spot took us a couple of "bon, bof, behs" with pouted mouth from the parking attendants who were more concerned about their cigarettes than sorting the stagnant traffic situation.



We enjoyed the majestic presence of the Mont over our heads and the priceless people spotting (all the annoying ones were Mediterraneans, doh!). Then, it took us almost another hour to find the hotel - well, me running up and down the alleys and stairs in the Mont, which are many and of different shapes and widths, fighting against the hordes of baby prams, slow tourists, old tourists, tourists taking photos and tourists choosing cards or calling Manolo!!! while blocking the road, and Phil sitting with the luggage in a corner.

Granted, I should have known where I was going, planned as I had all the trip, but so it happens that to get the key to our room we had to go to a hotel which was not our hotel (get it?) and then they would give us they key and show us the way... which was through a shop, through the shop's back door, trawling through dresses and corridors full of boxes, and up a spiral and dark staircase.

So, seeing the "magnificent" entrance, I was already expecting the worse. And, voilá, our room, in a sort of turret whose entry is actually at the very top of the Mont (well, almost under the abbey), you just have to get lost a bit to find it, then go down some quirky stairs and alleys, and before you get to the cemetery, a little door: Logis St. Sebastian; go downstairs to the bottom through that spiral staircase (yes, the one that ended in the backroom of a shop), and there we were! On a room facing the main street (I feel like opening the window and emptying the contents of the bedpan on the tourists), so narrow one can almost see inside the rooms of the building opposite, the Hotel le Mouton Blanc (in fact, the main hotel, where you get the key for the Logis - are you lost yet?).

Labels: Calais, France, holidays, Mont Saint Michel, road trip, summer