Semana Santa

After our fun times in Barca we piled into a cab with our bags and gave our driver the address for the Hertz depot where we were to pick up our car. We had checked a map and had a fair idea where it was, and the cabbie got us to the right area, but do you think we could find the bloody place? Our big fat cabby became more and more frustrated as we drove around in circles in an industrial area trying to find the place. There were road closures and one way streets screwing us up all the time, and even when we got the Hertz agent on the phone and gave him to our cabbie to talk him in, the cabbie by this time was doing much more yelling than listening, throwing his Spanish arms in the air, but eventually we found it, got our great little diesel Ford Focus, and were on our way to Valeria.

Where's Valeria, I hear you say? Well, it's a very small village in the middle of Spain, about 30 kms SE of Cuenca, which is about an hour east of Madrid. Our destination was a little B&B called Quinta del Mula, which Susie had ferreted out on Bookings.com. She hadn't missed yet with our accomodations, and this one was no exception, although when we finally pulled up out the front, we both thought "Oh, shit, what have we got here?" But first impressions can be very deceiving, and we had in fact been forewarned by reviews, so we clambered out of the car and rang the bell by the 5'6" doorway in the very nondescript wall with very small windows which formed the facade of our home for the next 2 nights.

We were greeted by Xavier, who with his wife Mula runs the place, which very quickly grew on us in leaps and bounds. After ducking through the doorway and down a couple of steps we were directed upstairs to our room, having to duck low to avoid being beaned by a ceiling beam on the way up. Our room was probably the smallest room, with the smallest window, with a double bed in it, I've ever been in. But it charmed us. We had our own bathroom, across the other side of the hall, which was quirky but nice.
After having had a quick look at the village when we arrived, we weren't very confident of finding an evening meal, as there was only the Church and the local pub/bar fronting the Plaza Mayor, and that was about it, and the pub didn't look capable of providing much more than a packet of Smiths Crisps.
But before we could broach the subject, Xavier solved our problem, saying he would be doing dinner for any of his guests who wanted from 8:30 (an early sitting for non Spanish guests,  ie. Us). Not really having another choice, we said yes please. Having a couple of hours, we went walking around the nearby ruins dating back to Roman occupation in the early centuries AD. Makes you feel kind of insignificant looking at stuff that old, still silently sitting there. If those walls could talk! The ruins are also very close to a beautiful gorge where some climbers were having a fun time on the vertical.

Back at the village, Xavier proved to be as good a cook as he was host, and provided us with a very good meal along with a bottle of very drinkable local wine. We then adjourned to the "pub" at the Plaza to watch the next instalment of the local derby, Real Madrid V Barcelona FC, on the big screen. Pretty much the whole village was there, and the game was very exciting, but after having the upper hand for practically the whole game Barca went and lost 0-1 in extra time. Bummer.

Very old doesn't begin to describe Quinta del Mula.  There is a "cave" underneath the ground floor of the house, which includes a well and spring, and tunnels which run under the Plaza Mayor and the house across the laneway dating back to the 6th century. Periodic additions were made until the present walls of the house were built in the 16th century. We loved the place.

Next day, Easter Thursday (feet washing day), we drove 30 kms to Cuenca to check out the old town and the "hanging houses" built on top of cliffs along the river gorge. After wandering around the town, oohing and aahing at the Basilica, and lunching at a local cafe recommended by Xavier, we were about to leave when preparations began for the Semana Santa parade. We stayed to watch, and left about 2 hours later, the cavalcade still not having completely passed us. Boy, the Catholics in Spain know how to do an Easter parade - thousands of black, maroon, yellow, or white robed "ku klux klan" looking marchers with the tall pointy hat-masks with eye openings marched slowly past with brass bands and carrying enormous, heavy, religious  sculptures. I counted 22 men along each side of the biggest one. Quite a spectacle.  Arriving back at Valeria we were just in time for another happy and beautifully cooked meal from Xavier.

On Good Friday we motored out of Valeria to our next stop, Almagro, home to the Corral de Comedias, one of the few original live theatres still standing from the Spanish "Golden Age" of theatre, and apparently identical to the Globe Theatre in London, where regular performances of shakespeares plays are still produced. Also the Museo Nacional De Teatro, which takes you through the history of live theatre in Spain.
Saturday, and everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, in the whole town seemed to be in the Plaza Mayor, drinking, eating tapas, and generally promenading - the oldies suited up, youngies more casual but well dressed, and lots of good looking women in their high heeled FMBs. And whaddayaknow, we saw another parade, this time all in Roman soldier costume. Another spectacle.
Sunday, we drove to Las Lagunas de Ruidera, a series of about 10 beautiful lakes, all draining into one another through small waterfalls. We went for a long walk, stopped for lunch on the terrace at a lakeside cafe where the son was outside spruiking, Dad was cooking on the BBQ, and Grandad was cleaning tables, had an ordinary meal accompanied by ordinary wine, and enjoyed it immensely.
That night, late, we ate back at Almagro, and I remember having a dish of field mushrooms, prosciutto and asparagus. Oh, yum. I love Spanish food.

Next stop was Cordoba for 2 nights - old town narrow streets, the mandatory Catedral, this time built inside an enormous mosque, and the Alcazar, fabulous gardens and HQ for the Spanish Inquisition, and where Columbus' Americas voyage of discovery was planned. Then a night in Sevilla - another Catedral, and Alcazar with more fabulous gardens.
Then on to Granada, first driving up high (2500m) into the Sierra Nevadas to the local ski resort where the snow was pretty patchy but they were still open and skiing, then dropped off the car and cabbed it to our apartment. Good thing we did as the street was so narrow the cabby had to fold his door mirror back to get past one section. Amazing.
Next morning we did the Alhambra - more amazing ancient architecture and history, and more fabulous gardens, and I think I'm completely basilica'd and history'd out for a while.

On Saturday 30th we cabbed it to the big bus station and climbed aboard for our bus trip down the coast to Algeciras and our ferry to Tanger, Morocco. Only the day before we had been sitting in a tapas bar and saw on TV the aftermath of the Marrakesh bombing. After discussing things at length we made the decision to continue, and so that afternoon walked aboard our "slow" boat to Morocco. More about that later. 

Barca

We arrived in Barcelona at 9am on April 15, looking fabulous after a sleepless trans-atlantic flight, in great anticipation - of getting to grips with this vibrant Spanish city, yes, but much more in anticipation of being met by Susie's son Thomas.
Susie had not seen her baby son since he left home for a 6 month holiday 3 years ago, and I had not met him at all. We walked out of customs to see Buddha (pretty much only his fam call him Thomas!) and his Swedish girlfriend Sophia waving to us. After introductions, and Susie getting a bit misty and making up for 3 years of missed hugs, we set off for our apartment. Buddha had to go to work, and Susie and Sophia went shopping for supplies while I collapsed for a few zeds. We all met again later at a Catalonian restaurant close by, named "The Nun's Tits", complete with a mural depicting a cheeky looking Nun pulling her bodice apart, for an evening meal. This was the start of an exciting journey for our taste buds.

Next day Susie and I fronted up at Pl de Sant Jaume in the old city for Buddha's famed Fat Tire Bike Tours jaunt around the old city of Barca. He has had some great internet reviews, so I was expecting to be entertained, and was not disappointed. Buddha's humorous take on Barca's history, and his encyclopaedic knowledge combined to make our 4 hour easy riding tour both fun and imformative. The highlight was probably Gaudi's Sagrada Familia - the most outrageous, tallest, most fantasmagorical cathedral you will ever see. Designed by Catalan architect Antoni Gaudi, work was started on it in 1882, and it's still not finished, although the plan is to have it finally completed in 2026, the 100th anniversary of Gaudi's death. It has become so big and famous that Pope Benedict declared it a minor Basilica in 2010. 

That night, after a quick rest back at our digs, we met Buddha and some of our other instant Barca friends for a quick Thai bite at local markets, then headed off to an enormous beer hall, El Oveja Negra, to watch the local derby between Barcelona FC and Real Madrid. Tell the truth, the game never rose to any great heights, resulting in a 1-1 draw, but Susie and I enjoyed ourselves interacting with all around us and sipping away at a jug of sangria. Thankfully, we didn't finish it! I think this was the day we slipped easily into the Spanish lifestyle: late to bed, late to rise. We got to bed at 1:30 and woke up at 11!

Next afternoon, we were up for some more bike riding, only we had to work this time. It started rather innocuously with the 3 of us grabbing fat tire bikes and pedalling around to the boat harbour to meet Sophia and a friend who were soaking up some sun. Then some dummy in the group said, "Why don't we pedal up there?" "There" being the top of Montjuic, which overlooks the old town and the coastal area of Barca. So off we went, Buddha leading, steering and braking with one hand, leading dog "Stretch" with the other, down along the beachfront, then into little alleyways, on footpaths, up hills, up steeper hills, up outdoor escalators, around the Olympic Stadium, and ultimately to the very top. The thing that killed me though, was on the very steepest part (apart from the escalators, where we got off) I was standing in the pedals struggling like a demon to avoid having to walk, and there's Buddha up ahead, still on the seat, pedalling one handed with a dog lead in the other, looking like he's on the flat!! Dog must have pulled him up.
After Susie and I got over the heavy breathing, the views were worth the effort. We then saddled up for the downward journey, which was nice and easy if a little hard on the basic brakes on the bikes, except for Buddha, who only had use of the front brake, and a very eager dog pulling him ahead. Beer time after putting away the bikes, then the 4 of us headed to Buddha's favourite tapas bar for a feed.
Can't remember the name of this bar, but oh, man, the food was sensational!! We had 8 or so dishes between us and every one had that "Oh, wow" taste. Washed down with a couple of glasses of sangria, of course.
Hunger sated, yes, but the night was yet young. Buddha then chaperoned us through a few narrow streets to his friend Gemma's bar. Here we sampled some of Gemma's secret recipe "Panther's Milk", a couple of other shots, and some truly good cheese and some prosciutto-like ham. Delicious. Another late night.

We swore next day we would be out early, as we wanted to check out Montserrat, about 45 mins train ride out of town. But no, true to our newfound lifestyle, we didn't get out the door til 11. Not arriving at the cable car which carries visitors up the precipitous mountainside to the monestary until 12:45, we didn't make it to the top until well after 1, and so missed the performance of the school choir which we had aimed for. However, the audio tour of the Basilica and it's attending buildings, and then the tram ride to the top of this spectacular mountain followed by some wandering and then walk down, had us thoroughly satisfied by the time we left at around 6:30.
Back in Barca, Sophia unfortunately had to work, but we hooked up with Buddha and a couple of friends Matt and Maria, and enjoyed a truly sensational meal at a French restaurant called Sensis. Can't remember all the other dishes, but I had the best piece of eye fillet ever in my life, and the pepper sauce, oh yes, yes. There was some pretty nice wine in there, too, so - you get the picture.

Tuesday 19 April, our last day in Barca.
We decided to go up the hill to check out Gaudi's Parc Guell. He worked on the designs and buildings in this large park on a hill overloooking Barca for about 20 years, and it is quite something, if you can handle the attending hordes. Gingerbread Houses, intricately constructed columns and balconies, everything weird and wonderful. After wandering around wondering about the mind that conceived this park, we thought we'd go have another gawk at his more famous creation, La Sagrada Familia, only to find the whole block cordoned off due to a bomb threat. Ah well, saved us a wait in a long queue.
That night Buddha and Sophia came over to our place and we all went to a fish restaurant almost next door. All the fresh seafood is displayed like your average fish market, and you walk in, buy whatever you want to eat, pay for it, go to your table, and they cook it and bring it to you. Pretty damn good, and reasonably priced to boot. After filling ourselves up with delicious seafood, we called it a night, said our goodbyes to Thomas and Sophia, and hit the hay.

Next day we picked up our car and headed out of Barca for the next stage of our Spanish adventure.       

Back to the Big Cities

Susie and I have left the wide open spaces of the South West behind, and jumped back into the rattle and hum of the big cities.

First up, Chicago
After some flight delays we arrived at O'Hare around 6pm. Just seeing how huge O'Hare Airport is got my old ATC juices flowing - it took us about 20 minutes of continuous taxying just to get to the gate. But enough of my plane watching fetish. Once reunited with our bags, it took no time at all to walk to the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) station in the terminal, and we were on our way into the city.

Once in the city and in a cab to our apartment I got my first look at authentic Blues Brothers territory. The Blues Brothers is one of my all time favourite movies (I laugh in advance 'cos I know the scene coming up!), and when I saw the overhead railway lines I could once again see Jake and Elwood charging down the roads underneath with a hundred cop cars in pursuit. My instant replays had me grinning like an idiot and digging Susie's ribs. Look, look, look, there's blah, blah, blah....  Every time we stood on the platform of one of the elevated stations I thought of Jake and Elwood in that crummy apartment right next to the rail line with the trains rumbling past the window.
The CBD area of Chicago is just stunning. The super wide avenues,  spectacular architecture, and giant skyscrapers like the Hancock Bldg, Willis Tower, Trump Tower, and others had us gawking like...  tourists! And the place is so CLEAN! Maybe the wind blows all the crap away? The city had a great feel about it as soon as we got out and started walking around, and the locals all seemed proud to live there.

Susie had booked a Cultural Walking and Tasting experience for our first day, so next morning we navigated our way via BART to the designated meeting place in Bucktown. What followed, led by our charming host Jessica, was a walking local history lesson broken at regular intervals by a taste of foods from a half dozen local long established family owned eateries. We started with the longest continuously running hot dog joint in Chicago. Now, my image of a hotdog was the frankfurt swimming in water that gets dumped in a soft white roll then smothered in "dead 'orse" outside the footy ground, but this was a surprise. This one was a purpose built german sausage accompanied by mustard, onions, tomato, and a couple of other things, which actually tasted okay. Not quite 3 hats, but not bad.  
We enjoyed ourselves so much we decided to return to the area that night for a drink and dinner. Our first stop was a prohibition era replica speakeasy called Violet Hue, which our guide Jessica had recommended. Not that you would know the name, or even that it was there, from the outside - just a blank red wall with a blank red door and an orange light over it. If the light is on - Da joint's open! Very dim and intimate inside, with violet hue'd lighting - surprise, surprise. We ordered a couple of exotic drinks at the bar, struck up a conversation with a young local guy, and spent a happy hour before venturing out to find a feed at one of our "tastings" of earlier.  
Next day we decided we would check out the Chicago Art Gallery, and Millenium Park, right next door. As our apartment was only a block from the shore of Lake Michigan, we thought we would walk along the waterfront to the park, which turned up a pleasant little surprise. Along the way, we came upon a rather large ocean going ferry looking vessel moored next to a marina totally devoid of yachts. On reading a sign on the pier, we found that the ship, formally an ocean going ferry and icebreaker, was now the floating clubhouse of The Columbia Yacht Club. As we were about to leave, a young guy came past heading for the gangplank. He said good morning, and quick as a flash Susie says, "I'm a member of a yacht club in Sydney, Australia, can we come in?"  "Oh, really? Sure, come on in, I'll show you around." Turned out he was the assistant mgr, and gave us a bit of a tour and history lesson. The inside of the ship had been beautifully restored with lots of polished brass and dark wood panelling. I felt like I was a bit player in a Bogie movie. We said goodbye promising to come back for dinner.
Millenium Park, the Bean - a highly polished sculpture which provides incredible reflections of the city, and the Art Gallery were consumed during the rest of the day. We had intentions of making it to a blues club that night, but after a drink at the bar and very pleasant dinner at The Yacht Club, it was all we could do to make it back to our apartment bed.

Next day we packed up and headed back out to O'Hare for our flight to NYC.

New York City. Damn me if it's not just like it is in the movies! Big and brash, a bit dirty, noisy, packed with people all hurrying somewhere, continuous honking of car horns, kinda worn looking, garbage in bags on the sidewalk, steam coming out of manhole covers in the streets, tiring,  .... and fun.

We arrived at our apartment at about 6:45pm, gave ourselves a quick detail, and headed cross town to the BB King Blues Club. We had an overpriced meal and were treated to some fabulous blues from Marcia Ball and her band. Two solid hours of upbeat blues that knocked us out. We should have gone home to bed after that, but no, we had got chatty with a couple of gay ladies at our table who invited us to a gay bar uptown, where we had a great time listening to some more energising live music. We finally made it to bed at 1:30. Welcome to New York!

Navigating our way around the subway system was a bit of an exercise at first - the map on my knee was a constant, but after a week in the joint, we're pros. No problem. It's a really old system, noisy as, and the on board announcements are sometimes impossible to hear because of it, but you never have to wait more than a couple of minutes and it will get you just about anywhere.
For the next week we did the absolute tourist route - all the must sees - Metropolitan Museum of Art, Museum of Natural History, Museum of Modern Art, the Guggenheim Museum of Art, Empire State Bldg, and the Statue of Liberty, pant, pant, pant.
I think, while the museums and galleries were great (you could spend a week in the Met), the one which impressed me most was the Empire State Bldg. For a building finished in 1932, it still looks fabulous and has a real presence about it. Despite being so old, it is still the 7th tallest building in the world, and as it stands pretty much on it's own, looks every bit of it's height. We did an audio tour up on the deck, talked around the town by our old mate "Tony", a died in the wool born and bred Nooo Yawker, which was actually very good and informative.

We also did a guided bicycle tour of Central park. As we were the only punters to front up, we had our guide Daryl all to ourselves. He was Jamaican born, complete with tatts and dreads, and very knowledgeable and entertaining. And yes, we got to see the Dakota Building where John Lennon was so senselessly murdered.

Nearly forgot...  we did another walking food tasting tour, this time around the Chinatown - Little Italy, which filled us up and gave us a great feel for the areas. Probably the highlight was the fried pork dumplings in a special soy sauce with a touch of vinegar. Yum, and they are made as you watch - no day or more old stuff, and they are 5 for $1. Lunch for a buck - how about that! No wonder the queue at lunchtime stretches out the door.

Not wanting to leave the nights totally unattended we managed a couple of Broadway Shows - Born Yesterday with Jim Belushi, and Memphis, starring a young guy named Chad Kendall, but the whole cast was fantastic. At Memphis, best seats we could get were front row balcony to the side, which were kinda nose bleed, so at interval Susie spied some empty seats in the second row from the stage, just in from the side. Let's go down there, she says. I was aghast. What if they catch us? But she was having none of that, and down we went, and I sat tensely in the seat until mercifully, the lights went down and we were safe. Good seats? You bloody betcha - the second half of the show was much better than the first!

Now, we're sitting in an Airport terminal again, waiting to board our flight to Barcelona. Bye, bye, USA, it's been fun!   

Spring Skiing, Jackson, and Farewell.

After our long, roundabout  drive from Napa, we were a little bushed, but a good sleep had us ready to hit the slopes the next morning.
This was Sun 27th. The weekend. Great snow. Crowds, you're thinking, right? Naah.
As Howdy explained, the Mormons were all in church, and a lot of people are starting to think golf, and other spring pursuits. We couldn't believe the lack of people. Anyway, it was a fun day with a few powder runs after a dump of a few inches overnight.
Next day, great silky snow again, but we were in cloud and skiing by braille. After 3 runs we called it a day. Tuesday was unreal - big dump overnight, sunshine, and lots of lovely soft powder to flounder in. Actually, we are improving. Really, we are, a bit. Had a number of "new tracks" powder runs, and both of us only crashed once!! Wednesday was foggy and drizzly - another 3 run day, then Thursday was fine and sunny with no new snow but dream groomers to zoom down. Pam gave us a final carving lesson, and we left our last day on the slopes feeling good about our skiing.

Backyard BBQ after our last day of skiing:

The view of Snowbasin at sunrise the next day about a block from Howdy and Pam's home:

Next day we 4 piled into Howdy's truck and headed for Wyoming. Cowboy country, Jackson Hole, and the Grand Teton NP. We had booked into Cowboy Cabins in the very likable town of Jackson, which turned out to be nice and comfy, then headed out to check out the sunset on the magnificent Tetons. These fabulous craggy mountains rise straight out of the valley floor, no foothills, about 6-7000 ft to a max altitude of 13,770. Spectacular.
I now have a new item on the bucket list - climb the Grand Teton!

In our travels around the park we were privileged to see (at last!) quite a few moose, none with racks unfortunately, as they have only recently shed the last ones, thousands of elk (there is a Nat'l Elk Refuge right next to town), and a number of Bighorn Sheep up on the crags looking disdainfully down at us. Throw in a few raptors - eagles and hawks - and it was an American fauna education. We were told there were a few bears about after their hibernation, but didn't see any. A good thing?

A slide show from Pam and Howdy:



So, after packing up our ski gear, and a sad farewell with Pam and Howdy, we're sitting at the departure lounge at SLC Airport awaiting our flight to Chicago, and the start of the next stage of our adventure.