Home at Last

We made it back this afternoon after a long day of uneventful flights. This is by far the longest we've been away from home and it feels good to be here. The comforts of life with which we've become accustomed now seem pretty obvious. I was struck by how I take so much for granted - everything from language to access. I'm grateful for what we have and appreciate the opportunity to see how other people live in other parts of the world. The best thing about this trip was to see how much goodness there is in people in all corners and under circumstances that wouldn't bring out the best in me. It makes me sad to see the how petty and mean we've become with each other in this country. I hope a little of me has changed for the better. Tim

Ronda & Ernie & Orson – Ole!

Our last day was spent taking a day trip to Ronda, about 50 km from our hotel. Once we left the coast, we climbed continuously for about 35 km, reaching an altitude of about 5,000 ft. before our decent to Ronda. The route was picturesque and certainly not for those afraid of mountain driving. (Note to Janet O. and Janet J. - this road, which hugged the sheer mountainside, and the one we took the other day from Granada to Marbella, which was marked by frequent and loooong tunnels through the mountains, were described by Molly as "Janet-unfriendly roads" :) And one more comment on the 'creative highway labeling system' in Spain - we had two different maps directing us to Ronda. One told us to take A-336 and one said to take A-376. The actual highway number is A-397. Fortunately it's the ONLY highway to Ronda - but we weren't that lucky driving into Marbella. Aargh.

Ronda is a beautiful old tourist town made famous by bullfighting. Depending on what you read, Ronda claims to have the oldest bullfighting stadium in Spain, built in the late 18^th century. The ring is no longer active, but is open to the public for tours with a wonderful museum. Bullfighting had been around for centuries before, but was typically done on horseback. In Ronda, matadors started the current style. Of course, Seville is better known for a more flamboyant style but according to the displays, its fighters do not demonstrate the “authenticity and aplomb” of those from Ronda. Sniff, sniff.

Ronda no longer hosts bullfighting, but as recently as the 1950s, Ernest Hemingway and Orson Welles were residents here and frequented the fights. Both were close friends of Pedro Ordonez who is a national legend in the ring. Senor Ordonez passed away in the late 50s with a claim of killing almost 6,000 bulls without so much as a scratch. Apparently that record has never been matched, not even close. Mr. Welles is buried at Sr. Ordonez's estate here.

Ronda is a very old town and had strategic importance over the millennium. Evidence of Roman viaducts are easy to find. The Moors built a fortress during 11^th century and with most things Moorish in Spain, their works were changed to Christian strongholds in the early 16^th century. Wandering around the town, you really understand how it was considered an important military asset.

The town is split by a deep gorge. Very, very deep! We found the “new” bridge connecting the two sides (built in the early 17^th century). An old bridge was built several centuries earlier. The new bridge is astounding even by modern standards. I doubt anything could be built like it nowadays.

We walked around the bustling market area and settled in at a nice sidewalk café just of a central square for lunch a few beers. Time pretty much stopped and the occasional English overheard just seemed so out of place. The day had started sunny and warm on the coast but it was definitely cooler (low 50s) and cloudy in Ronda. We hit showers heading back over the mountains to Calahonda and the wind had picked up on the coast.

Today was a wonderful, relaxing end to our incredible journey. We’ll have some closing thoughts & photos on our next (and final) blog.

Costa del Sol

Saturday morning had us up and leaving Granada at a leisurely pace. We threaded our way down from the Alhambra summit through town and out onto the expressway south toward Motril. The drive was beautiful as snowy mountains gave way to deep gorges and finally great views of the Mediterranean Sea. We drove west along the coast past the sizeable city of Malaga (about 560,000), the point of our departure next Tuesday. Our destination was Calahonda, a resort area about 9 km east of Marbella and about 40 km west of Malaga.

After adding about 25 km extra because of the creative highway labeling system in Spain, we found the Hotel Don Carlos – the final destination of our trip. We checked in and were astounded by the view from our 11^th floor room. Our balcony faces the Med and Marbella. The hotel is beautiful with multiple gardens, swimming pools, and bars. This was Molly’s last day with us so we followed her plan, which was to lounge by the pool.

Sunday morning had us up particularly early as daylight savings time took effect overnight and we had to get Molly to the Malaga airport early for a flight to Marrakech. She’s meeting up with a few fellow ISA students for a trip to the Moroccan coast town of Essaouira for a week of sun & fun before classes start up again. We spent the rest of the day hanging out around the pool and beach. Molly’s plan seemed good to us!

Tomorrow is our last day before we head home. We’ve had tremendous luck with the weather so far and hope it holds one more day as we plan to head to Ronda, inland a bit from where we’re staying. We’ve read that the town is split by a deep gorge and was a favorite hangout spot of Ernest Hemingway. Looking forward to it!

Wonders of Granada

Granada’s comparatively fast pace is a bit of a change for us. Wendy & I started the day with a tour of the Alhambra while Molly slept in (been there, done that). The Alhambra is perhaps somewhat better known in the U.S. because Washington Irving lived here and wrote about it (Tales of the Alhambra, 1832). He had already attained international celebrity status after penning Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van Winkle. We enjoyed the beautiful palaces and gardens all situated on steep terraces and ridges. The Alhambra is the site of the final conquest and surrender of the last Moorish Sultan to inhabit Spain. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella attained this feat in 1491.

We gathered up Molly and headed down the hill into Granada adding more miles of foot. This is a good thing since we can’t seem to enjoy the great Spanish fare in moderation. We strolled along the Rio Genil which flows through town. The river was running fast and clear and my guess is cold since the snowy mountains are such a short distance away.

Molly lead us to the central cathedral and the nearby tombs of Ferdinand and Isabella. We’d heard that the carving of Isabella has her head creating a bigger dent on the pillow than Ferdinand’s and this was confirmed. The widely held belief is that she was the real power during the time. Ferd was just eye candy. They were a remarkable couple. In 1492, aside from a famous boating expedition (“a 3 hour tour”), the Kingdoms of Aragon and Castile were united to form Spain. They also started a less auspicious endeavor – the Spanish Inquisition (which no one expects!) leading to the ouster or death of Jews and Muslims who did not convert to Christianity.

After more ice cream, we headed back up the hill to our hotel for a bit of a rest. We found that our hotel key card didn’t work and the maintenance guy (after giving us a look like we were idiots) resorted to giving us a metal key. At least we got in! Next, back down the hill for some nightlife. The Spanish love to party. Every bodega, café and bar, and there were thousands of them, filled up after 9:00 PM. We found our spot, too – a great pizzeria. Wandering around the narrow streets during the day is a blast and at night the added challenge of dealing with fast cars and motorcycles really keeps you on your toes, literally. As we were heading back to our hotel, we came across as a Catholic mass procession. This made us feel like we were definitely in the Old World. The procession included the devout carrying candles and a statue of Christ. Crazy! They would stop occasionally and drum/chant. This continued well past midnight.

Tomorrow we head to the coast via Malaga and onto Marbella. Sun and warmth!

From Seville to Granada via the Mini

We started Thursday heading to the Seville train station to pick up our rental car. Rental car agencies are the same in every language. It took about an hour to resolve that we had a car, didn’t want an upgrade and we had already paid for it. Didn’t help that I don’t speak Spanish! The result was great however, as we are driving a beige Mini Coop. It’s like riding a go-cart.

It took us another hour to navigate (term used loosely) through Seville to the freeway heading east to Granada. We had a very colorful map with great artistry. Unfortunately, the artist just didn’t have the energy to label the streets. Wendy made the comment that if it were a goat path, it became a street. At last, onto Granada via A-92 east. We passed the town of Osuna, ancestral home of my friend Nina’s mother. Miles and miles of olive orchards mark the rolling countryside. As we approached Antequera, the hills became foothills to the Sierra Nevada mountain range.

We took a side trip into Antequera, a town of about 30,000 people nestled at the base of a dramatic range. I tried to drive into the heart of the city but the cobblestone streets became progressively narrow (still 2-way) and hilly. I’m not bad with a clutch, but this was bordering on insurance claim territory. We stopped somewhere in town (fairly lost by now) and started meandering on foot. We found a café and ordered sandwiches. I’ve written that the Spanish absolutely nailed the tapas thing. Sandwiches should probably be left to the French, or ‘Mericans. Toasted white bread and meat. Any questions?

After our sumptuous feast, we squeezed back in to the Mini and headed out of town into the mountains. The edge of town was rather abrupt and we climbed a narrow, winding road. The tops of the mountains were obscured in heavy clouds. We drove about 15 km before reaching the shrouded summit. The last few km were completely foggy but the views just below were spectacular!

We made our way back to the freeway and continued east toward Granada. We picked up Molly at the airport and all squeezed into the Mini. We figured out an order to stowing people and luggage. It was a little like Tetris. The airport in Granada is on the SW side of town and our destination was on the NE side. We are staying 2 nights at the Alhambra Palace Hotel, next to the historic Alhambra. We tour that on Friday. Getting up the hill to the hotel was not obvious. Thank God Molly speaks Spanish (and quite well) because we needed directions (twice) to find the place. The journey is definitely worth the reward.

We spent last night wandering around Albaicin (The Basin or trendy old city), having pizza, ice cream, etc. Granada is at the base of the high Sierra Nevada Mountains. The snow capped peaks lay about 25 miles away. Molly had visited a large ski area nearby (Monachil) a month ago when she first spent time here during her study abroad orientation week.

Off to explore the Alhambra and Granada!

A Day in Seville

We made it to Seville last night via a short layover in Madrid. We landed about 9:00 PM last night and were at our hotel in the heart of Seville by 10:00 PM. We're staying in a nice boutique hotel - restored relatively recently. It was built in the 19th century and very charming.

We left this AM to rendezvous with a guide for a half day tour of old Seville (the "historic" tour). Our guide, Lola, was great. We were joined by one other couple who spoke primarily French. They were from Quebec City. Lola had to do double duty in English then French. Near the end of our tour, she was clearly getting tired and would mix all three languages, realize her mistake start over in French with us.... I just smiled in English.

We toured streets and cathedrals, museums and gardens and castles. Seville is very Euro with its many cafes, bodegas, bars, trendy shops, beautiful people and gawky tourists. Glad we could add to the last category.

These photos include a smattering of sights we saw today. We did visit the Spanish-American Exposition (held in 1929) gardens and fed the pigeons. Wendy's tendency toward being creeped out gave way to giggles as our new pets swarmed us. We had a wonderful lunch of pieja, pizza and beer. Plenty of sun to flavor the meal. It is hard to believe it's only March. Apparently, the flowers are about 3 weeks late in blooming here because of the extensive rains during the past 3 months. Only the past week has the weather been plant-friendly.

Tomorrow, we pick up a rental car and drive to Granada (about 3 hours away). We'll most definitely take a scenic route and pick Molly up at the airport tomorrow afternoon, too. She'll spend a few days with us before she heads to Marrakech to met up with her friends for the rest of her spring break.

Morocco seems like a long distant memory! Spain has a familiar yet foreign feel to it with some things in common with Morocco. It's like they are 2 separate countries! (apologies to Ferd & Isabella). Buenas Noches.

p.s. If my brothers are reading this, the Lamborghini was not available for my rental car. I got as close as I could before 2 burly guards gave me the evil eye.

P.S. from Wendy: I admit it's a bit of a relief to be back in the western world where I can drink tap water and get a taste of non-Moroccan food. I have to say I really admire our daughter for being completely content living in the non-western world - I'm not quite there yet. I actually understand less of the language here in Spain, though - my high school French held up quite well in Morocco and I was able to communicate with the locals and read signage much better there than I can here. But crossing the street is not nearly as exciting here since there are stoplights with crosswalks and drivers actually stop for them. We took a quick stroll down the block from the hotel tonight and had a light dinner of beer and tapas - what a great invention!

Reflections on Morocco

We spent a wonderful, relaxing final day in Morocco with our guide, Abde. We had a leisurely wander through the medinas and souks of Marrakesh, including stops in a spice shop and a rug shop where we purchased a beautiful rug to bring home. I read in one of the guidebooks that you've done a good job bargaining when the seller is unhappy when you leave. If that's the case, we got a good deal because this guy barely spoke to us when we left.

After lunch we visited a couple more museums and the ruins of a royal palace which included a large pulpit from the oldest mosque in Marrakesh. The pulpit was commissioned in 1137 A.D. by the governor of the area, from artisans in Cordoba, Spain and delivered to Marrakesh about a year later and installed in the mosque. Several years later, the area was taken over by a rival leader who ordered the mosque destroyed, so he could build one to his own liking. But he saved the pulpit and moved it into the new mosque where it was in use until 1969, when it was removed, underwent some restoration, and placed in a museum. About half of the original inlay and carving has been damaged or removed but it is in incredible condition considering it was used for over 800 years!

Finally: a few reflections on our time here in Morocco:

Wendy:

I'm totally amazed by the influence the French have had over Moroccan culture and language, considering they only ruled here for about 45 years. Darija (Moroccan Arabic) and classic Arabic are quite different and when listening to Mouad and Abde speak, I heard many French words interspersed in their conversation.

Speaking of French, apparently Moroccans learned their driving habits from them. Only worse. Molly described crossing the street on foot as "playing Frogger". If you know that video game, you'll know exactly what she means and it's a perfect description.

One of my earlier posts included things that we found everywhere in Morocco. Here are a few things we seldom found that would have been nice to have more (or any) of:

• teaspoons/tablespoons (they have serving spoons and demitasse spoons - I felt like an idiot eating my cereal/fruit with either one)
• toilet paper - yes, more common in bigger cities but it would be nice to know you can depend on it being there when you need it :)
• chilled beverages - I mean REALLY chilled
• trash cans - I know this would mean that you would have to figure out trash collection but they could really use a Lady Bird Johnson-style anti-littering Beautify Morocco campaign.

Spending considerable time with several Moroccans, and interacting with hundreds more has broadened my horizons in such a positive way. The images we (Americans) get of Arabs in our home media is so lopsided - they are seldom depicted in a positive way. But in fact, we have spent the past week with quite possibly the friendliest group of people I have ever met: a Berber in the middle of the desert who realized we were Americans and gave us a big grin, a thumbs up, and said "Obama, yes!?"; shopkeepers who bargained with us for 2 minutes and then bid us farewell like we were old friends; Molly's Moroccan (and American) friends who went out of their way to meet us while we were here; our guide and our driver who watched out for us every minute of the day, made our visit here easy, and were proud to show off their country. Of course not all Arabs are necessarily friendly to Americans but the vast majority, and certainly Moroccans, are - you should all come visit someday.

Tim:

As the week progressed, I began to see with greater understanding how Moroccans feel not just about each other, but everyone. At first, I thought everyone knew each other. People would greet with warm handshakes and just dive into conversation. I began to realize that's typical whether it's a renewed acquaintance or they'd just met.

Another telling sign is how people treat animals here. Cats are more than tolerated, they are cared for and they are all feral. Pigeons are fed, morning doves allowed to take seeds from the grain sacks. Canaries in clean cages are all over the medinas.

This is a pretty hard culture to remain an introvert (no wonder Molly loves it here!). As Wendy mentioned, the social pleasantries are frequent and genuine. Although we couldn't understand the language, we could certainly understand the meaning. I enjoyed how Muoad and Abde would rehash an event that had just occurred (police checkpoint - usually just before an isolated stretch). The gents had to discuss it at length. Conversations here are collaborative; more parallel than serial. One would concur or dissent with a point continuously ("Ahhh..., Eye..., Zhou Zhou"). Very melodic and pleasant.

I leave Morocco with some sadness, many fond memories and new friends whose pride in their marvelous country is well founded.