Thursday, May 21, 2015

Hasta Luego, Madrid

A visit to roses in the Botanical Garden in Madrid 
Seven months was once a ghastly long time. And now, a skip and a jump and it passes. This is our last week in Madrid. Not the end of our year-long life out of the country, but now, we will be nomads, moving with as little baggage as possible, with no home, not knowing where to sit with morning coffee, where to buy a newspaper to read with said coffee, limited to dumb phones, no dependable Internet, no easy access to English books. Are we ready to leave Madrid? No, we would gladly stay the rest of the year, happily ensconced in Maria Carmen's apartment and just travel from here. However, MC returns next week for her six months in Spain and so we are off to explore Europa.

These last weeks, we have tried to continue our return to favorite spots as well as discover more of Spain. We went to see "Clementine" at Teatro de Zarzuela in Madrid. Zarzuela is Spanish light opera, entertaining, easy to follow plot of lovers thwarted first by parents and second by plot twist, subtitles in English and Spanish, polished voices and lively music. 


Red bricks and white stone create the Mezquita
arches in Cordoba.

Mezquita in Cordoba


Detail in the Mezquita
We traveled to Cordoba to meet long-time friends Donna and Dave at the end of a tour and grabbed another opportunity to visit the Mezquita. Built on ruins of a sixth century Visigothic church, the Mezquita is a 10th century mosque with a 16th century cathedral built inside. I find walking among the red and white arches of the Mezquita hauntingly beautiful; it and the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona are my two favorite buildings in Spain and beyond -- breathtaking, peaceful, offering solace and awe.
Sagrada Familia in Barcelona





Gardens of Spain


Rich, Donna and Dave
on Cordoba patio tour
With Donna and Dave, Rich and I visited the private patios of Cordoba, an event much like the Mother's Day House Tour on Capitol Hill when residents open their houses or, in Cordoba, their small enclosed patios to the public. The tiny spaces overflow with flowers hanging high on the walls in pots, spilling from balconies, tucked against the walls. Most also have a center fountain or an old well filled by rain channeled from neighboring roofs into the patios. The patio tour invites all to see these interior courtyards and glimpse the inside of houses through windows or open doors.
Flower filled patio in Cordoba

Donna and Dave returned with us to Madrid and the three of us continued the flower theme with a walk and lots of photos at the Botanical Gardens. The gardens span several acres in the heart of the city. As in much of Spain, the gardens are formal beds outlined by boxwoods and blooming with roses, rhododendron, iris, peonies on another gorgeous blue sky day in Madrid.
Rhododendron blooming in the Botanical Garden 
Peony bud with lady bug
Botanical Garden 






Travel lessons

Two questions haunt these last days: What have I learned? What will I take home with me that will influence my future? I'd love to dash these off higgledy piggledy, but no. 

I have learned that I feel at home being in a house that's personal even if the personality is not mine; I love MC's books in Spanish and English; I love the family pictures in the hallway; the pottery from different places in Spain; the DVDs for children or adults in Spanish or English; hanging wet laundry on the roof, especially now, but even during the winter; I love, love the washing machine that sings sweetly and cheerfully to us when the load is finished; the sketches of Segovia and Salamanca and Moxente blending with West Virginia scenes; the sunlight that pours in; the furniture pieces that have known time and family.

I love this simple Spanish barrio stocked with mayores - the old and the very old - and young families with children and dogs. We love the little cafes that spring up beside playgrounds where parents sip and chat and kids dart from swings to table. At minimum, each block has two restaurants and three bars, but try as we might, we have missed more than we made. Rich has loved cooking our main meal, served between 2 and 4 p.m. He loves the mercados, the sausage guy, the fish guy, Ali's vegetables, Jose's jamon and cheese, the German-style bread two blocks further than other bakeries, cafe solo and Spanish conversation at tiny Chispa in the mornings. He watches Real Madrid and Atletico and Barcelona futbol at Casa Vicente within spitting distance if you lean out the kitchen window.


Next

And so we're off to roam: Malaga, Gibraltar and the white towns; Italy for June; Pamplona and northern Spain in July; Germany, Amsterdam, Belgium, Denmark; Greece in late September; Washington in mid-October. Stay tuned for erratic reports from the road. 





Monday, May 11, 2015

Spring in Spain


Bridging the mountain top and driving into the Valle de Jerte, I thought morning frost grayed trees and slopes, but as we descended, we began to see the white cherry blossoms covering yards and fields and
extending for miles beside the winding road and scaling the rolling hills.
 
Spring in Madrid blooms from the early almendra (almond) trees to forsythia to the cherry trees spilling down the sides of the Valle de Jerte west of the city. I have been to Spain several times in the summer - sultry July before or after La Fiesta de San Fermin in Pamplona - and a couple of times in either November or March. I am enchanted by this spring with cool mornings and nights, bright sunshine afternoons, cool-in-the-shade days. And to watch the rebirth after seeing only the dusty, dying green of fall dwindle to winter is a reward of seasons.


All photos can be enlarged by clicking in the center.



Almendra blooms first in spring
Forsythia at the Prado
Rich and I celebrated the season with a venture into old Madrid to watch the Semana Santa procession from San Isidro el Real, the church holding the remains of the patron saint of Madrid, Isidore the laborer and his wife Santa Maria. Seville in southern Spain is best known for the processions during Holy Week, but all communities have processions when the relics and icons from the churches are paraded through the streets on the shoulders of young men honored to carry the burden. 
Crowd waits for the procession
The crowd at San Isidro waited hours to view the procession and included young children entertained by the opportunity to play in the blocked streets to chicos drawn to the fiesta atmosphere to older adults who know the best viewpoints.


Lights in street indicate
icon in procession


Dolorosa in procession
The quality of my photos of the procession suffers from distance and growing dusk and tripod lack, but I hope they help you imaging the ritual draw and excitement of the religious event. 

Then weeks later, in Cordoba to meet friends from the U.S., Rich and I heard the drumbeat cadence of a procession and edged into front row standing to watch the passing.


Procession in Cordoba

Leading the procession

Note feet of carriers beneath skirt

Musicians following procession


Earlier in the spring, we ventured to the mountains west of Madrid for a four-day drive to spend nights in Paradors, to hike in the Sierra de Gredos, to substitute cherry trees in the Valle de Jerte for those we would miss in Washington, and to visit the walled medieval pueblo of Caceres.
Wisteria blooms in Caceres



Jonquils in Sierra de Gredos
Medieval Caceres
                                                
Sierra de Gredos



Hiking in the
Sierra de Gredos





Saturday, May 2, 2015

Corners and Critters in Spain


Curt, Cindy and Rich walking the wall in Ávila
Si, I am still here in Madrid at least for a rato (short time in espanol). In truth, our days here have been full of movement and language and living. Consider this posting as a "yes, we're still loving Madrid and Spain and thinking of you" postcard. Since March, we've enjoyed visits from my sister Cindy and her friend Curt; from long-time friends Ron and Kim from Salt Lake City and Trout Canyon; and from my sister Terri. 

I have been immersed, head down, in Spanish classes, 4 hours a day/five days a week. I now have many, many verb conjugations floating about in my head, totally muddled. The difficult feat is to have them flow from muddy mind to smooth oral discourse unimpeded by my constant need to edit. Having finally decided my mind is on shutdown for any new information, I've left the daily classes, but Rich and I now attend a private class for an hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays, just to practice talking. For Rich, those of you who also love him, know he willingly practices talking given any lull. 

Now for the postcard, photos from our travels with Curt and Cindy and alone over the last couple of months. Cindy emails photos with quips highlighting her travels every week and always includes wildlife from hikers to snakes. This posting is dedicated to her, and my condolences to all who aren't on her list. Watch for more soon.

Enlarge any photos with a single or double click in the center.
Cindy and Rich wander
through Madrid.

Museo Sorolla in Madrid was home to Joaquin Sorolla, Spain's 
finest impressionist (1863-1923). It's my absolute favorite 
of the small museums. Much of his art features his wife and
 three children, and the garden is a lovely haven in the city.

Cindy in Retiro Parque

Curt and Cindy see Palacio Real (or vice versa)
El Templo de Debod in Madrid, an ancient temple
given by Egypt to Spain in 1968 in gratitude for
help in rescuing monuments threatened by an
overflowing Nile; a romantic vantage point at
sunset although Cindy, Curt, Rich and I watched

only the dwindling.



Templo de Debod in the dwindling



Train station in Cercedilla, a small 
town north of Madrid in the Sierra
Guadarrama and one of three trips
outside Madrid with Cindy and Curt.
Roman bridge (maybe)
in Cercedilla

Cercedilla lizard

Segovia stork for all the bird people