The Time Has Come

 No walrus in this, but we thought that we’d finish with a bit of a summary for future reference. We did this blog to save time on emailing family members and friends over the 8 week stint ….yeah right. It has taken lots of time but we’ve enjoyed recording the trip and getting the feedback. You quickly come to realise that you forget details and confuse cities, cathedrals, and lots of the experiences on these long hauls. Would we have left any of it out? No, it's all been great. But we have missed out on quite a few events back in NZ, so maybe 6 weeks next time.

We depart Jerez in the morning after today spent strolling around enjoying the sights and the shops and doing all the finishing off stuff. In our travels we’ve studiously avoided anything that looked touristy (menus with pictures, locations on crowded plazas and places with lots of people who like us have map in hand. We’ve been in some lovely atmospheric bars for coffee and tapas and down some pretty small alleys.

We have enjoyed meeting a lot of lovely people. We have also developed a great working relationship with TomTom, don’t leave home without her!

We’ve had lots of highlights.  In fact the way we’ve done the trip in several “chunks” Douro, Northern coastal Spain, canal boating (again) then Dordogne, and the South of Spain: Seville, Cordoba, Granada and Jerez, has been really great. Ann did a fantastic job of putting it all together and the logistics have worked well. (Thanks TripAdvisor and Booking.com says Ann, and of course Lonely Planet and Rick Steve’s guided walks) We did say jokingly that the trip was all about the wines/alcohol ie Port, Armagnac, Rioja reds, Bordeaux reds and whites, sherry  (we now realize that it’s really the Pedro Ximenez we came for), but it has been great to learn as we have travelled along about pre-history, medieval Europe, Catholics, Muslims and Jews and the history of these places. And we’ve really appreciated how the architecture reflects the history of the places.

We’ve been struck by just how cheap (and good) food is, and you have to notice the pain from high unemployment and the various other ailments of Europe. But it just staggers me that as we walked around this small centre today there are 21 different banks. We complain about our four “big Aussies” who dominate our market in NZ. But I’m happy to have the big four rather than spin the wheel and pick one of the many options here. Yes I do realise there are lots of people here in Europe, but I’ve counted banks in a short walk in a small provincial centre, there must be hundreds of them across Europe.

Anyway we’ve had eight great weeks, and established a monetary benchmark for any future activities. Interestingly Choco and Vikki put their all-inclusive Europe costs at about $A2500 per week, pretty much same for us on an NZD/AUD conversion.

Jerez, Sanlucar De Barrameda, Donana and Cadiz

Our Jerez hotel - Hostal Fenix (hostalfenix@gmail.com) - is fine, especially as we have an outside room with a window onto the street. It is in the old part of town, so comes with narrow streets, cobbled roads and a genuine 14^th Century wall as part of the room. The owners speak very little English.  You don’t have to go too far outside to find some fairly dodgy areas in the old town, which might explain the very cheap rate. Seems that the rubbish collectors are still on strike which adds a certain fragrance to the town.

 

The orientation walk when we arrived identified a few 'must get back to' places and a few potential eateries. We are back in citrus-lined streets so G&Ts are catered for.

Our Thursday night tapas meal was hilarious. We arrived at 8, but the cook unfortunately doesn’t arrive till 8.30, so we watched the passers-by in the plaza for half an hour with a glass of white wine. The early eaters were mostly tourists, and the waiter’s English was not too good, but point and choose seemed to work OK. One English woman at an adjacent table, who has owned a house in Jerez for 10 years but obviously hadn’t picked up on the Spanish, ordered lamb, but was obviously pointing to a different item. Her large plate of  'lamb' duly arrived and she commented how tender and delicious it was to the woman at the next table who enquired what the dish was. Said woman then looked up lamb in her dictionary and ordered the lamb.  Her lamb was the real deal (lamb chops in fact) and didn’t look anything like the dish it was ordered from. So much hilarity, an apology from the waiter to the woman who thought she’d ordered lamb but was served 'wild boar'. We promptly ordered the 'lamb' and very much enjoyed the wild boar.

We headed off for Donana National Park visit next morning and had a lovely day. We travelled across the Guadalquivir River by ferry with some El Rocio pilgrims heading on their annual peregrination to the Church of Our Lady of Nuestra Senora del Rocio in El Rocio, a village on the other side of the 4000 hectare park. Heaps of 4 wheel drives with flags etc to be ferried across.

Then we had a Unimog tour through the beaches, coastal dunes, lowland forest, grassland and lagoon areas.
         
                                         

Saw locals gathering cockles – they dredge for them, and the park starts at the high tide mark so the traditional fishing goes on.

The commentary unfortunately was all in Spanish, but we did see birds, wild pigs, red deer (see it in photo?) and samba deer and a variety of trees and flowers. This wetland area is important for birds and also is habitat for the European lynx.

The park occupies some of the area that used to be a coastal estuary when Seville (80 km upriver was an important port). Like most of southern Spain there are remnants of Moorish owners, and there was a community who lived there but were removed in 1969 when it became a national park. The thatch houses they lived in are still able to be privately owned and can be passed down to family members, but not sold, a little like Rangitoto’s baches. The tour finished with a cruise down the very muddy river back to Sanlucar de Barrameda.

This port was the departure point for Christopher Columbus on his third voyage to America, and also departure point for Ferdinand Magellan whose expedition was the first to circumnavigate the globe. He actually didn’t make it, he died in the Philippines, but his ships returned home after their continuous sailing to the west. There was virtually nothing here to celebrate these events.

It was good to see a huge area reverting to its former state and forming a habitat for wildlife, including flamingos which we didn’t see in the park but did see later in wetlands near Cadiz. I noted their blue swamp hen (we’d call it a Pukeko) on a poster of occupants of the park; we may be able to export some of Motuihe’s.

Lunch was an all-local seafood affair. We finally found out what pijotas are (small whiting), and had a plate of those plus baby sole, baby calamari, bigger calamari, cod and the inevitable anchoea.

 We had to be home by 4.00 so that we could attend a flamenco session at a bar in the old town. Yes, we are gluttons for punishment. This was part of the local Flamenco Festival and attendees were predominantly locals. Our first experience in Sevilla didn’t quite endear the art to us, and the first performer for this session didn’t really move me on. The photos show the expressive and pain-filled feelings that the singers (and dancer) project.  

The second performer I found a bit more appealing. Then came a joint session - two singers, two guitars and a dancer. With the local crowd and in the courtyard of the bar this was all much more lively and interactive. So we left feeling a bit closer to understanding and enjoying the art.

Dinner was more local fare at Bar Juanita, a famous restaurant that has been part of Jerez for 60 years. Great meal as usual.

Saturday we headed to our Carthusian horse experience at Yeguara De La Cartuja. Directions for getting there were pretty ordinary, and we had no street address so TomTom wasn’t much help. We did allow plenty of time for the trip. We pulled off the carriageway and stopped on an off-ramp to look at our directions. I was a bit engrossed in the process and was a bit startled by the knock on my window, and looked up to see a rear view mirror full of a Policia car (yes Sam a nee-nar - flashing lights and all!!) and two policeman at my window. You can’t stop here. Sorry I’m a bit lost, Ann waved the brochure, and the first guy said 6 km down this road. Then the second guy (good cop, bad cop approach) “Licence” which I duly presented and he went back to his car to write things down, but came back a couple of minutes later because he couldn’t make sense of the licence. "Passport" … Sorry it’s back in the hotel.  "Identity card"….sorry, we don’t have those in New Zealand. Then he asked me to tell him which number on my licence was the licence number. "What is this" …my date of birth, "What is this?"…. the date the licence was issued.  He duly noted it all down then said you are free to go, enjoy your day.  I don’t think I’ve got a record, but it did provide a bit of a diversion. Unfortunately Ann didn’t manage to get any photos. (We had learned back in Barcelona that police take themselves very seriously and regard photos as assault.)

The Carthusian horse show was terrific. We had an hour tour of the facility in very good English, the horses are very friendly and not all white as I had expected. Mind you selective breeding has made white dominant and the stud is working very hard to get the chestnut and black (once thought unlucky) back into the breed.

Our guide joked that they had the only profitable bank in Spain.

Then an hour show of the horses going through their paces, being tamed, carriage racing, dressage and finally the foals with their mothers. All with appropriate music and Spanish-English commentary.

 

 

Carthusian monks (we came across them and founder St Bruno in Granada) started the stud to preserve the Andalusian horse. The wheels fell off the project when the monks had to flee and the horses ended up dispersed among feuding family members, but the Government bought all the horses and set up the facility to continue the good work. The horses are ok for carriage work, carrying knights and working stock, but not for gallops, trots or show jumping. All that aside you can buy a breeding mare for around 80,000 Euros, a stallion for 18-25,000 Euros or a gelding for 3000 Euros. Let us know quickly what you want.

Late on Saturday we got to the sherry, after all this is the sherry triangle. The visit to Gonzalez Byass, which has the Tio Pepe brand started at 5 00 pm. In English again and a very good guide.

 

They own 800 hectares of vineyards, planted 95% in Palamino grapes and 5% in good old Pedro Ximenez. The place stores about 15,000,000 litres of wines and Lepanto Brandy. Some famous signatures on casks.

The tasting was Fino, Croft, Alfonso and Solera 1847 which is a cream sherry. I wasn’t really tempted by any of the tastes; the Solera has 15% Pedro Ximenez and was probably the favoured style. You can buy products up to 30 years old, similar to ports, and the process for sherries is a continuous blending of various aged stocks. The aging barrels, mainly American oak last up to 100 years, then they sell them to the Scots for aging whiskey (and you thought the Scots were canny!!). Ross, you can check out the weather vane…Guinness book of records the biggest in the world, weighs 3 tonnes, stands 40 feet tall and 16 feet wide, very classy really.

Walked home for a regroup and headed to famous restaurant number eleventy billion called La Cardona. This again was just a short walk through the showers.

Just a main tonight at La Cardona which is one of the highly recommended places. There is a limit to the amount of eating out you can take. Iberian wild boar for me and a baby leg of lamb for Ann. No camera unfortunately, but Ann’s lamb rivalled the legendary Blinman steaks of South Australia. It was a complete leg and it did virtually hang over both sides of the plate. Both meals were lovely. (No pics as camera stays home at night here – not keen to invite mugging.)

Today we spend walking around the old city of Cadiz. I was expecting lots of maritime history, but there was very little which was a bit of a disappointment. Cape Trafalgar is not far from here, and Cadiz is the longest established city in Europe, it harks from around 1100 years BC (if we still have this as a measure). So Phoenicians, Vikings, Celts, Goths, Vandals, Romans, Moors, Greeks, and others have all had a bit to do with the place. No one has yet bothered to try and pull this all together. It was a pretty wild place for a long time, they took a lot of convincing to give up human sacrifices apparently, but it all looked pretty calm today.

                                 

It does have a series of good walks, and we took two that showed us significant remnants of fortifications and watchtowers where merchants kept an eye out for their ships returning. The queen has just visited as evidenced by flags, and police tape over the drain covers!

Anyway we enjoyed a coastal stroll and watched the Sunday goings-on.

For our final night's meal we went to Meson del Asador which is recommended for meat lovers. The waitress was the worst we've had, very close to surly. Food was good in terms of quantity and quality, but when the main arrives before you've finished the entrée they've got something seriously wrong. Couldn't be bothered staying there for our final Pedro, so slipped down to the next Plaza, to the very reliable La Cruz Blanca where we had had a couple of lovely meals and the staff were great.
Final day tomorrow, before the trip back begins. So no plans for the day, we’ll see what eventuates. Tuesday will be a 7.00am departure for Seville airport and a 10.00am flight with Vueling Air to Barcelona where we pick up our return Qantas flight. First to London, then an Airbus 380 to Sydney and the trans-Tasman hop home.



Ronda and Gibraltar: significant rocks

Our departure from Granada at one stage looked like being a bit fraught. Our host at Apartamentos Alhambra told us as we were leaving that there was a general strike for the day. We had decided to bus down to Avis to collect the car, so we digested the strike advice as we walked the 50 m up the hill to the bus stop. Five minutes later around the corner pops our bus with a “servicios minimos”, the limited service didn’t worry us, and we were down at the get off spot 10 minutes later. Fantastic. The luggage (and probably its owners) is gaining weight as we go so these transfers are getting more important! Plenty of publicity to be seen on the strike.

 

At the bus stop downtown one bus went past with its windscreen splattered with red paint and there was a small column of anti-austerity protesters across the road. We actually joined their ranks at the head of the column for a short time,  as we were walking in the same direction for a short distance. There were lots of police around, each street corner had a couple, and there were police vehicles parked at frequent intervals. The protesters had plastered “closed for the strike” posters on everything, including ATM machine screens, so using them would have been difficult. However it all seemed very peaceful.

So we duly got to the estacion and found the Avis office easily. No people around and no trains running. Car organised pretty quickly although the guy was the worst Avis agent we’ve had, tried to upsell everything, more car insurance, personal insurance, a bigger car (yeah right…you’ve seen the old town streets we frequent)

TomTom was delighted to be back in use, but required reprogramming for Spain…how do you do that again? We locked horns straight away, no I’m not turning left, firstly because there’s a no left turn sign and secondly because the road is all ripped up for the light rail construction. Luckily TomTom quality control in the RH seat had seen a todos direcciones sign on a tiny street, so we went around the block once more, down the little street and out we popped on our way to Ronda.

We were driving through countryside again planted in olives, and the flatter areas ploughed up. The hills are pretty much denuded of soil, and one of the significant features of travel through Spain is the lack of trees and bush areas. Iberia used to be a forested peninsular and Seville used to be close to the sea, it was a port. Now it’s around 100 km from the coast, and there is a huge plain made up of deposits from the denuded hills of Spain in what used to be a huge estuarine area. As the trees got used up, the soil slipped away to expose the lovely limestone and dolomite, and filled in the lagoon east of Sanlucar.

We struggled to find a coffee on the way down, but that was about the extent of the impact of the strike on us. People were gathered (with union flags) and police presence was at times more evident than the protesters in the little towns we passed through. Duly arrived at the old town of Ronda and located digs. Too early to check in so parked the car in the village square and ambled into town. Quite a lot of major road works, with perfectly adequate roads being replaced by major new highways which make extensive use of tunnels and viaducts. One viaduct, probably only 10m high will take traffic for about 10 km above a gently sloping alluvial valley floor. Amazing what you can do with all that EU money.

Ronda town claims to be where bullfighting started, and was one of the last Moorish strongholds. There were lots of perambulating tourists and plenty of police in the square. The small group of whistleblowing protestors were heading out of the plaza adjacent to Los arenos toros as we arrived, not to be seen or heard from again.

Geographically this is a stunning place: it's totally impossible to capture the scale of it all with photos. North of the town is a large cauldera, probably created by slumping due to water eroding cavities in the limestone under the area. The old town itself is built on the cliff top on the side of the caldera. But running through the town is a 360 ft high and 200 ft wide chasm. Bridges have been important in its history! There are three: the “new” bridge: 18C, then two older ones. The oldest one was used by the Moors so has the obligatory baths and a mosque beside it for 'cleansing' before entry to the city.

The views are awesome but a little vertigo-inducing, as the cliffs at the town are vertical.

 

                      A local museum has very good displays of the Iberian peninsular region development from pre-history times through Bronze and Iron ages and into medieval and modern times. Huge amounts of detail in their signs and displays, far more than can be assimilated in a short visit. You do try to absorb the information, but you forget most of it within a short space of time.

Our accommodation was a B and B: Boabdil Guesthouse., just inside the city walls of the old town.  www.boabdilronda.com Cosy, in terms of size, but quite adequate for a night, and very near our dinner spot.

We had another great meal, this time at Almocabar in the square just below our digs. It started with the house specialty salad, which was goat's cheese, walnuts, mesculin and mango, and we ordered the veal. A bit of gadgetry arrived at the table, and then our meal with the 'barbeque'. (sorry, left camera behind) This is a piece of smoking hot 1cm thick steel, and our meal was a plate of very thin veal dusted with rock salt and a dish of roasted capsicum and zucchini. We slowly realized we had to cook, so hopped into it. The veal was unbelievably tender; cooked rare it just melted in the mouth. Another local red wine, Andaius 2003 Petit Verdot, decanted for us at the table and poured into the carafe using an aerating funnel (a much bigger one than Choco’s). The wine was superb. We finished with a mandarin Sorbet, espresso and Pedro Ximenez nectar. That dented the Euro card by 87.20 and in my view eclipsed the expensive restaurant we had chosen in Granada the previous night. To be fair Ann was happier with her selections on that night than I was with mine.

On the road again earlyish next morning, we selected the mountain route to get us through to the coast to give maximum views of the area’s white towns.

 

Very bare hills, just pure rock for much of it. Light traffic and a fairly relaxed drive. I invoke my little mantra as I come up to intersections or roundabouts to make sure I stay on the right side, but driving is pretty relaxed, with not a lot of traffic.  We arrived at the coast to the sight of storks nesting on almost every pylon of the railways overhead system, and TomTom took us to Gibraltar. The weather was ominous, but the huge mass of rock was on a scale unanticipated, and on the day we saw it broodingly majestic.

 

We had a plan. It was to get to the border, park, take a bus into Gibraltar and take the chairlift to the top. Long story, but we ended up at almost the front of the queue of cars waiting to drive into Gibraltar, thanks to the guy who let us into the queue when he realised after tooting and gesticulating at us that I couldn’t back up because of the big pink bus behind me on the roundabout! So immediate change of plan, we drove into “the rock”, around the base, took in the sights, had lunch and walk and departed. The cloud had closed in further so we didn’t try to go up there. (There is a hill in behind that cloud! While we didn’t do it justice I’m sure, we enjoyed the visit.

I’d packed the sterling left over from the last Europe visit for this occasion; it paid for parking and a bottle of gin. (3.50 pounds for a litre!)  Lunch was the local tradition ie fish and chips, with the fortifications behind us.

So we drove uneventfully back over the border and set TomTom for the fast road to Jerez la Fonterra. Past the paddocks of bulls waiting for their matador fight!