Friday, March 3, 2017

The hookah of Seville.

Spanish Spanish is quite different than Mexican Spanish. Mostly we can understand despite the accent, if we can get them to speak slowly. But the Castilian lisp takes some getting used to.

I ordered a cup of espresso at a little cafe one afternoon, and the barista asked me if I wanted a hookah. I was a bit baffled, so I asked him to repeat. "A hookah?" he asked again. It took me a long second to realize that he was asking me with a very pronounced Castilian lisp if I wanted "ahuca." Azucar: sugar. 
No. No hookah for me, grathias.


Sevilla is a beautiful town very much built to human scale. There are no high rises, and the pace of life is relaxed.

It's very pedestrian-friendly. We took walking tours of the city that were quite informative. Unfortunately, the last day O got sick and missed the last tour.


The bull ring is still a going concern. Having a box here for the season is like having a box at the Met in New York--a marker of high status.

We toured the Real Alcazar, the royal palace of the rulers of Sevilla back when the city was the capital of its own country. Built for the Christian king Peter of Castile by Castilian Christians on the site of an Abbadid Muslim alcazar, or residential fortress destroyed after the Christian conquest of Seville. The upper stories of the Alcázar are still occupied by the royal family when they are in Seville.


The palace is a preeminent example of Mudéjar architecture in the Iberian Peninsula but features GothicRenaissance and Romanesque design elements from previous stages of construction. 

When the palace was built, just after the Reconquest, the best architects and artisans available were Muslim, so the resulting structure is mainly built with Islamic design features. 

The palace gardens are lushly planted and incorporate many beautiful water features.



Fanciful Italian tile works enlivens the interior.

Los Baños de Doña María de Padilla. These beautiful baths below the palace offer cool water for bathing, even when the weather is hot.


Legend has it that this little balcony is the one where Count Almaviva and Figaro courted Rosina in Act II of The Barber of Seville. Unlikely, since the opera was based on a French comic novel, but who knows, maybe Rossini was charmed by this picturesque location and so included it in his libretto.


Sevilla's warm Mediterranean climate brings forth a profusion of color even in early March. I'm convinced that the pleasant climate contributes much to the easy-going ambiance of the city.


Sevilla's Cathedral of Saint Mary is the largest Gothic church in the world. It was completed in the 1500s, at the peak of  Sevilla's power as the main conduit for the wealth of Spain's colonial empire.


La Giralda, the cathedral's bell tower, was originally the minaret of Sevilla's main mosque.


It was built to resemble the minaret of the Koutoubia mosque that we saw in Marrakech. 


The cathedral houses the grandiose tomb of Christopher Columbus as well as those of various Spanish royalty.


The builders spared no expense is making the cathedral as ostentatious as possible. Local tradition has it the the designers' guiding principle was "Let us build a church so beautiful and so grand that those who see it finished will take us for mad."

You might say they lost their heads.


And after all the miles of walking, they have gin.


The sun was setting as I walked back to our hotel. O was feeling a bit better, and it was time to rent a car and head for Málaga.

P.



Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Out of Africa.



Tanger looked much more attractive from the deck of the ferry to Spain. The dismal overcast had parted, and the sun sparkled gaily on the white buildings.


From the ferry, you can get a good idea how close Africa and Europe are to each other. Spain is on the left.


Jesus welcomes us to the harbor in Tarifa.


Our hotel had a lovely patio.


The weather was brisk and windy. Great for kites, not so great for swimming.


There were a lot of kites.


The old customs house and fortifications.


The Island of Doves marks the transition from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.


All the fun spots were closed for the season.



It was a profound relief to get back to pork and alcohol. 


There are even bars for children, apparently.

P.

Monday, February 27, 2017

Among the Tangerines.


Thus far Morocco had greatly exceeded our expectations. We loved the people, the food, and the varied beauty of the country. So we were excited to visit the famous port city of Tanger. Alas, it failed to live up to the hype. It was gray and grimy and not at all appealing. Still, we did find things to like.


O came with me to the Casbah.

Our hotel was quite nice, with a good view of the harbor. Too cold to swim in the pool, though.

The outdoor markets were significantly less vibrant than those in other cities.


There was, however quite a lot of interesting street art.






And beautiful old doors.

The old fortress still sports the original cannons.

We ate a good lunch at Café Hafa. Open since 1921, the café  was a favorite haunt of the Beatles and the Stones in the 60s. 

The café's many terraces offer sweeping views of the Bay of Tanger and the Straits of Gibraltar. We could just make out the Spanish coast in the distance. 


The weather cleared just enough to allow for a gorgeous sunset, our last in Africa. We were sorry to leave Morocco, but looking forward to our return to Spain.

P.



Sunday, February 26, 2017

Deep blues in Chefchaouen.


Blue is everything and everywhere in Chefchaouen.




What's behind those blue doors?


In the case of our riad, a lovely little boutique hotel. A riad is a traditional Moroccan home that has been converted into a hotel. And the Lina is a beautiful example.


With spa.


And interior court.


And a comfortable rooftop deck.



With panoramic views of the town.






We wandered the vertiginous streets and alleys for hours.


Discovering funky little plazas.


Fountains still used by the locals as a source of water.


Cats pretending to be goats.


There are other colors available.


Moroccan graffiti.


The main square is a casual place to relax with a glass of tea.


And every table comes with its own cat.


Just on the outskirts of town, the Ras el’Ma river runs down from the Rif mountains in a series of pretty cascades. This is a popular picnic spot for locals and tourists alike, with shaded tables and quite a few food and juice vendors.


There are several theories about how Chefchaouen got the blues, but no one really knows for sure. But however it happened, the little town is quite a magical place.

P.