Day 132 Cordoba Spain

The train to Cordoba was a pleasant four hour break to relax and have some quiet time after the constant din of Madrid. Too bad Cordoba was only two hours away. This is the problem with not speaking the language. I arrived in Malaga on the south coast, spent an hour an half killing time and then went the two hours back to Cordoba. It was good for a laugh at least. I don’t let things like this bother me or I would never be able to travel as I do.

Cordoba was better than I had expected for a few reasons: La Mesquita, orange trees, Arab baths, and food. La Mesquita is an enormous mosque, built on the site of a Christian church, that was convereted back into a cathedral. When you walk into the silent, dimly, yet artistically lit, forest of 850 columns and arches, you cannot help feeling that you have walked into a movie set. It feels unreal. It is truly a beautiful and serene place that goes on forever. That is, until you get to the middle. Right in the middle is a fairly standard and enormous Christian Cathedral. It is a bizarre juxtaposition and comically sad. The intent was to take back the space for Christianity. It looks like someone stuck an “I Love Jesus” sticker on a Quran.

La Mesquita’s courtyard is filled with orange trees and fountains. The sweet smell of orange permeates the space, immediately enlivening the senses as you walk under the intricate designs of the Moorish arches. Listening to the low splashes of the fountains, relaxing on the sun-warmed stone steps, and letting the oranges’ fragrance occupy my attention was a travel experience to remember. Ahhhhhh…….

It only got better at the Arab baths. It was like sneaking into a Moorish king’s palace bath. Everything is covered in intricately carved designs, candles and tiny star shaped holes in the arches and domed vaults provide light, and small pools in separate columned rooms allow for privacy. You start in the cold room for one minute. When I say cold, I mean looking-for-ice-cubes in the water cold. Then you move on to the warm room. It has the largest pool and is just warmer than body temperature. Stay as long as you like and then move on to the hot room for five minutes and return to the cold. Repeat. I went through the cycle three times before I was called for my rosemary scented oil massage. I was jello before the massage. I walked out of the baths feeling like a new man, incredibly relaxed and smelling of rosemary. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

Later, feeling a bit peckish, I hit a tapas place and had two that were outstanding. Rabo de Toro y Chocolate, shown, is bull’s tail and chocolate. Forget grabbing the bull by the horns, take that sucker by the tail and bite it. Served on a layer of pudding like mashed potatoes, the meat was shredded, molded into a nice round, and covered with a barely sweet chocolate, pine nuts, and some kind of small seeds. Oh, can’t forget the olive oil. It was a flavor combination I have not experienced and was intensely fascinating to eat. The other tapa was smoked quail stuffed with foie gras, accompanied with braised melon. I should not have to tell you how good that was. Ahhhhhhh…..

It is needless to say that I liked Cordoba very much. Even the former mental hospital turned hostel was nice; it had big rooms with private baths, good breakfast, and right next to La Mesquita.

Next up: Sevilla!

Day 130 Madrid

It is good be back in Spain again. I am staying at Cat's Hostel in the Heurtas district, near the museums. The hostel is high-tech with wristbands that operate the doors and even the lockers. It is geared toward the young twenties crowd with one upstairs bar and a cool cave bar downstairs that has a surprisingly good live band on the weekend, cheap beer, and too much smoke.

I have been hitting the museums, one a day to avoid burnout, and have found a very good way to improve the museum experience.

Number one: walk slowly, looking at each for a few seconds as you pass, if it speaks to you, stop. If not, keep walking. I stopped trying to find artistic merit. If it doesn't jump out at me, I keep on going. There are whole wings of museums that I breeze past, saving my energy for the good stuff (Rafael, Chagall, Renoir, Hopper).

Number two: Because major museums can be dreary with a heavy dose of artistic death, violence, and general unpleasantness, it is good to lighten the mood a little. Now this works much better with more than one person, but I still found it fun. As you walk past the boring pieces think of humorous alternate titles for the works. Really funny ones will leap out at you if you are in the right frame of mind. I found myself trying hard to suppress chuckles in the quiet echoing rooms. These two techniques got me through the three major museums in half the time and allowed me to avoid post-museum lethargy.

The Palicio Real, throne room shown above, is over-the-top impressive. It is a good example of fit-for-a-king. Apparently, if you rule a country full of poor peasants, nothing is too expensive for the royal family. I am sure they all wanted to out do the other kings and queens to show how important and powerful they were, but come on. Too much is too much. The best part of the palace was the armory--advertised as the best in the world. Now that was impressive! Not so much for the elaborately decorated armor that royals wore—if you were a king wearing armor, there was no doubt as to your status—but for the sheer barbarity and of the weapons. You immediately understood how different life was back then. Not for me, thanks.

Madrid is party central for the younger crowd and not really my kind of place. I am moving south to Cordoba soon.

I have heard many young Americans on the streets and in the hostel. On the whole, they tend to be very loud and oblivious. A few made me embarrassed to share their nationality. Hopefully they learn from their experience here.

Day 120 You Can Never Go Home Again

I am back in Portland for about 10 days. Honestly, I like Portland, but I have not been away long enough. My old life seems so boring compared to my life as a world vagabond. I am having so much fun traveling, I do not even want to think about the day to day of my old life. All the places I have seen, friends I have made (one beautiful woman in particular), and food I have eaten have been rich experiences that make it seem like I have been gone for a year. The best way to sum it up is to say that I am having more fun than should be allowed. I highly recommend it.

Unfortunately, I have to think about taxes. I got all the forms and yet I cannot get myself to do them. I'll take them with me. Since I have a choice as to where I can do them, I would rather do them in Madrid or maybe Barcelona, or even Tangiers, Morroco.

I can't wait to back on the road, or plane in this case.