Monday, March 23: Laguardia, Spain

I had heard it raining overnight, but was surprised to see it was snowing this morning. Yesterday it had been sunny and warm south of us and now, in the Rioja wine region of northern Spain, it was much, much colder.

I haven’t bought any clothes for below-freezing temperatures, but bundled up with what I have. Our plan was to walk to the gated entrance to the village (it turns out our hotel is right outside it, maybe a ten-minute walk) and check out Laguardia. We couldn’t do that because the snow turned to pouring rain. We waited it out, then drove to the entrance and dashed in through a gate.

Laguardia is over a thousand years old and is like another world. Surrounded by huge stone walls, it is easy to see how it provided the people of the city safety from attack. What is remarkable is that 1,500 people live there in these modern times.

It is a totally inclusive walled village made of blocks of stone. By “totally inclusive” I mean that the people never have to leave the walls of the city and few, if any they have cars. There are shops, restaurants, bars, services – it seems as though they have anything they need.

As soon as I dashed in, I marveled at the narrow stone-lined streets. I couldn’t take pictures since we were running in the rain. We were not really sure where to go since there are just doors within stone walls. Everything looks very similar. Some doors are people’s homes, others are businesses. There are no storefront windows, so you have to know where you’re going. This posed a problem because of the rain, since we couldn’t just walk casually around. And of course we had no idea where we were going.

We ducked into one tiny shop that had some nice sweaters displayed near the open door. The saleswoman/owner was nice although she spoke almost no English. She was able to direct us to a great restaurant after I bought a sweater there, and we dashed up the street because it was still raining.

After a delicious lunch, the waiter suggested we check out the restaurant’s cellar. Underneath the entire walled city are wine cellars. They have been separated under businesses and homes now, so are not connected as they were when they were first built as one huge place to safely store the village’s wine. It was interesting to see the small connected rooms that snaked underneath the building.

Tomorrow we are going to tour a winery and check out more of the inside of the walled village. We are hoping it is not raining or snowing so we can walk around.

Adios,
-Susan

The old and grand restaurant where we had lunch today.

The old and grand restaurant where we had lunch today.

The wine bar was not open when we were there in the late afternoon, but it was interesting to see the setup. We may go back tomorrow evening to see what it's like with people there.

The wine bar was not open when we were there in the late afternoon, but it was interesting to see the setup. We may go back tomorrow evening to see what it’s like with people there.

A sweater and pashmina I got today in the walled city

A sweater and pashmina I got today in the walled city

At lunch today

At lunch today

The caves underneath the restaurant. Wine is stored there, but it is also a wine bar at night.

The caves underneath the restaurant. Wine is stored there, but it is also a wine bar at night.

Saturday, March 21: Sintra, Portugal

The past 24 hours have been terrific. Last night’s dinner was good, but the restaurant made it very special. First, it had two gigantic dark green doors in front, and a small sign with the name, Mesa de Frades. There was no way to open the door, and we stood there for a couple of bewildered minutes. A guy who had been talking on his phone out in the street walked over and showed us a small button to press. Soon, the owner opened the door a slight crack and asked (in Portuguese) whether we had reservations. I said we did and he ushered us in. I felt as though I was in a movie.

It was a tiny, dark place, five small tables against the wall on both sides of the room, each for two people. A few tables were pushed together. The place was ancient and we later found out it had survived the 1755 earthquake. All the tables were full once we sat down and since it was super-small, it seemed packed. The kitchen was at one end, partially exposed. It seemed that the cook was the owner’s wife or girlfriend, and he handled the tables.

Dinner was a set menu (cod fish) because the place is known mainly for its fado performances. Fado is the soul music of Portugal, we learned, and is mostly sad love songs sung with a lot of emotion. The show started at 11:15 and was to have 3 performers. Adding the three guitar players plus a singer to the front of the room by the door was an amazing feat of space utilization. We stayed for the first singer, and she was very good – young, beautiful, and so talented. We were very tired and left at about 12:30. I chatted with the singer outside about how much we enjoyed her performance. “This to me was all no problem,” she said, smiling. I love how some people here string English words together as best they can.

I later learned (from a couple we met on the tram today) that this particular place is the best of its type in Portugal and where the professional fado singers often get their start. It was an extraordinary experience.

This morning we reluctantly left Lisbon and drove an hour to Sintra, a city with beautiful architecture, some castles, and spectacular views. We walked around for a while, then looked for the tram we had read about. Soon, a group of cute, young, uniformed scouts approached us and asked whether we would buy a … pen. I said sure, but we needed directions to the train station. The scouts escorted us the three blocks to the station, chattering in English with us the entire way. They were the real deal: kind, fun, poised, and so polite. When we got there I suggested that we’d buy another pen (each scout had a fistful) but one boy said “We wouldn’t think of it,” so sincerely that I did want to hug him.

We didn’t realize the tram didn’t leave from the train station at all, although when we asked at the Information booth, it sounded as though we were close: go out the door, make a right, then a left… but we didn’t see tram tracks anywhere.

We walked past a museum and decided someone in there could probably direct us. There were three women at the front desk, which had a few people lined up to buy entry tickets. We stood aside for a second, then one of the women asked if we needed help. We mentioned our tram problem. She paused and then said something to the other two women and it looked for a second as though she was going to take us to the front door and point out where we should go.

Even better! Another woman from the counter joined her, and the one who spoke English said “Follow us!” Down some stairs, up a street, around a block, and there we were at the tiny, hidden tram station. With the two museum workers! We thanked them and presumably they headed back to work.

We took the tram ($3) to the end of the line and hung out at the ocean, then had lunch and caught the last one back at 4. We sat with a guy and girl from Lisbon who were amazed we had gotten a table at the fado restaurant last night and who loved hearing about the U.S. We hardly looked out the tram windows to appreciate the rambling beauty of Sintra, one big reason to take the tram in the first place – but that was fine.

We are staying in a very charming old hotel in the center of Sintra tonight, then heading out in the a.m. although we don’t have a solid plan yet. We have reservations in Barcelona for Thursday through Sunday, but are free to motor around until then.
(See photos on post that follows- they wouldn’t upload here)

Adios,
Susan

Sunday, March 15: Madrid

Sunday, Madrid.

(We are here until Tuesday morning, then we pick up our rental car and begin driving – to Lisbon, then back into Barcelona, stopping all along the way. We have to finalize our route there, and may figure that out later today.)

It is nice weather to walk around Madrid, and that’s what we’ve been doing. That, and drinking more coffee than I ever drink in an effort to get myself on Spanish time.

Last night we had a delicious dinner at a restaurant sort of close to the soccer stadium, Asador Donostiarra. We shared some Spanish wine and appetizers first: prawns, anchovies, croquettes – and could have left it at that.
But, no. We ordered more food.
Me: squid. Him: steak (cooked at the table, which was interesting) . We should have left it at that and I certainly intended to. I had seen nothing chocolate on the menu, and mentioned that to the waiter as my excuse for skipping dessert. He told me they had chocolate cake in the kitchen and it was fantastico, and that I had to have some. Backed into a corner, I heard myself say “Really? Great! Uno slice, por favor,” as Roger ordered rice pudding.
It turned out the cake was good as he claimed, but it turned out I was glad we didn’t skip dessert. The young couple sitting next to us got chatty after agreeing to take our picture. They were on a weekend getaway from their home in Israel and were very interesting to talk with.
(This is known as Justifying Dessert.)

Today we went to the Museo Sofia, a contemporary art museum in a beautiful, very old building. It was fun, but some art just annoys me (did those colored wood pieces really need to be under the protection of glass?) and causes me to ask myself whether I could have made a name as an artist had I just realized a painting can be finished after drawing just a simple line down the center of the paper.

Tomorrow: the Prado museum!

I bought a couple of shirts/blouses this afternoon (but am nowhere near being wardrobed) and we had lunch at a very good tapas place. I’m loving Spanish food! Since I’m eating so much of it, I need to find and buy running shoes, shorts, and a bathing suit pronto, then put them to work!

Adios,
-Susan

This painting could be of me: jet lagged (still), eating too much (this will continue), and physically inactive (must change that).

This painting could be of me: jet lagged (still), eating too much (this will continue), and physically inactive (must change that).

I should have glued down my kids' creations and sold them!

I should have glued down my kids’ creations and sold them!

At dinner Saturday evening.

At dinner Saturday evening.

Saturday, March14: Madrid

Before I left ( sort of blurry as Roger wanted to get moving already)

Before I left ( sort of blurry as Roger wanted to get moving already)

Saturday afternoon in a coffee shop near our hotel.

Saturday afternoon in a coffee shop near our hotel.

Here I am, reporting from the center of the city and sitting happily in a hip coffee shop. I’m jet-lagged but sipping strong coffee as I post this. Most of the people here seem to be very interested in the soccer game on TV.
Our flight to Chicago, JFK, then Madrid was largely uneventful. What a great feeling it was to tote around my light-as-a-feather luggage and not have the zipper threatening to burst from being over-stuffed. This, my friends, may be the only way to travel!
I wore a shirt and sweater that I may be happy to have later on in the trip, and black pants that I will for sure wear again. Photos of departure clothes should appear above.
When we arrived in Madrid, it was 9am and of course (1) there was no room available since check-in is at 1pm, (2) I was so tired from not sleeping on the plane that I may have been seeing double, (3) I really wanted to take a shower.
None of those things were going to change for a while, so we did what needed to be done: had breakfast then set out to shop! We went to the Salamanca district, which has many wonderful stores and was bustling with activity on a Saturday morning. I did well on this first trip. I found a really pretty top that I’ll wear to dinner one night (not tonight though), a couple pairs of pants, a top I’m wearing now, some shoes, and (crucial): undergarments.
Roger is a good sport about shopping, and by that I mean he wanders off and buys himself what he wants (gloves, socks) and then looks for me (this is complicated by not having our phones on to text each other).
Eventually we walked back to the hotel, shopping bags in hand, and got our room. Right now, he’s asleep and I guess I should be, but I ventured out instead (I’m thinking that I may not be back in Madrid for some time, so I won’t waste it napping). There are all sorts of street performers, flamenco dancers, some magic acts, and plenty of people milling around on this sunny Saturday. I ended up getting another pair of shoes and a pair of pants that I didn’t try on (feeling lazy). Then I popped in here and asked a joven to take my picture. As you can see, my outfit today is nothing special: it’s Spanish, though and I am very happy to be off to a good start!
Adios for now,
-Susan