Monday, February 16, 2015

Pictures! For those of you without facebook.....

View of Lisbon from Portas do Sol in the Alfama district


The Moorish Castle at Sintra (on a cold windy day)
Same thing, just so cool!


The local Yacht club in Monaco, as viewed from the palace


Daddy Jones an Juliana after our shopping day in Cannes

George Clooney, what else? (see commercial:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfyeXrdZZ1o)

Antibes as seen from an evening stroll

A great monument to the age of exploration--when Portugal wasn't broke

My birthday trip to the museum of fine arts in Seville when
we discovered that kkk robes are featured heavily in Spanish painting....

Rewa and Lisa at the (in)famous bull ring in Seville

Seville Cathedral as seen from La Giralda bell tower (may not be interesting to some but I love seeing the totally classic gothic architecture, also largest Cathedral in the world)

Us getting sloshed in Jerez at the Sandeman bodega

Beautiful gardens at the fortress of the Catholic Monarchs (real name in spanish) in Cordoba. They hold a lot of weddings here which is disturbing because that tower behind me is where the inquisition started. 

A COLD day atop La Alhambra in Granada

Good photo courtesy of Rewa. Also from the Alhambra, overlooking the Albayzin neighborhood where we stayed

The ridiculous "herbalist" in Morocco who would allow absolutely no interruptions. 


My favorite bench (I later got Rewa to take a picture of me on it, but have not gotten it yet)

Graffiti outside our Airbnb apartment in lisbon--just had to take a selfy with it. 

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

El fin

Well friends, i am writing this last blog post for you stateside, waiting for my last connection. I had to cut my trip a bit short due to some health issues (no worries, all limbs still intact) so alas, most of  Morocco will have to wait for another trip. But i am looking on the bright side and instead of this being a trip in which i "missed Morocco" it is instead my wonderful trip to Spain and Portugal with a day in Tangiers.

And what a day that was! We left snowy Granada and took a train to Algeciras--a giant port city (that is, the port is giant, the city seemed pretty average).  Algeciras was not very memorable except for all of the puns i noticed in the business names (e.g., mercalgeciras or algecolores--these are only moderately funny if you speak spanish, dont worry). Also, there are a LOT of Moroccan men hanging out around the port trying to sell you stuff. It was good practice for the real thing. We took a ferry across the straight of Gibralter. I was thrilled to receive a stamp in my passport with a boat on it indicating my arrival by sea--that was a first! When we hot to the Moroccan port (Tangier Med) we still had to take an hour long taxi ride to get to the city but I didnt mind because the view was BEAUTIFUL. There were rolling green hills and lots of goats (i like goats).
Unfortunately, our boat was late and cell reception was spotty so we never made contact with the lady we were supposed to be renting a room from. (I stood outside the gate to the medina hoping our host would come by for nearly 40 minutes at sunset while Lisa and Rewa tried to use the wifi at a nearby hotel. People kept asking if i needed help--i think i'd be equally skeptical about my sanity if i saw someone like me just standing there with all my luggage, alone, insisting i was fine. Lol)  But it all worked out in the end, we followed some guy named yusuf to a nearby hotel (where i'm sure he was payed a commission) and it was really nice!

Our friendly guide yusuf also took us to a good restaurant for a traditional Moroccan meal (not all that traditional i think because i only saw tourists there, but it was tasty) and then he took us shopping in the medina. At this point i was on a mission to obtain a gift for my brother (who i doubt is reading this, so i'll tell the story). All around Tangiers i saw men wearing these traditional robes that i can best describe as a cross between a jedi robe and a snuggy. They had pointy hoods and looked really warm and according to yusuf are called jalabas. I decided i had to obtain one and so yusuf took us to a tailor. That was a truly moroccan shopping experience--as we walked into the shop the owner made us mint tea and then arranged a display of different colors and styles of Jalabas out for us to peruse. The bartering was actually pretty fun. I had read so many tips about how to feign disinterest and pretend to walk away and act like you didnt want it but i realized that this style just wasnt me. So i was honest about how much i liked it and also about how much i was actually willing to spend on my brother. In the end i got it for about half the opening bid and i think we were both content.

Just before the tailor we stopped by an herbalist (mainly because it smelled so good that we paused in the doorway just long enough for the owner to haul us inside and start his shpeal. And what a rehearsed shpeal it was! He would brook no interruptions--even to ask to buy something! And when we did get around to buying a few things we had to do it in order by category! I almost burst out laughing at several points, he was so intense and serious. (Side note for the few who may remember the white elephant exchange this year: rewa noticed as we were leaving that his shop was decorated with pictures of goats in trees!)

The next morning, i bid the girls goodbye and got ready to head back to the ferry to spain. But first i decided to try out a truly local tradition--i went to the hammam. The hammam is the traditional arab bathhouse where people gather to gossip and relax (segregated by gender of course). For a few extra dirham you can get a massage from the attendant. I arranged this with an old woman through miming (she spoke neither english nor spanish and i am skeptical of her french). It hit me like a bucket of water when i actually was doused with a bucket of hot water that a language barrier is not small thing when you are naked in a foreign country. It was one of the weirdest experiences i have ever had, lying on a tile floor while an old woman exfoliated me to within an inch of my life and kept asking me questions in arabic. I also discovered, quite unexpectedly, that stretching is a part of the bathhouse massage. I almost had my nose broken when these two old women shoved my shoulders forward while i sat in order to stretch my hamstrings--they were not prepared for how flexible i was and i had to react very quickly to stop my head's progress towards the tile. They indicated that they were impressed with my limberness (i think, again i had no idea what they were saying). I keep laughing now, but the whole time i was in the hammam i kept thinking "what the f*** is happening? What on earth did i sign up for?" I felt great afterwards, truly, but i would recommend taking a female interpreter if you ever want to give it a try.

And with that bizarre and memorable hour behind me, i raced back to my hotel, caught a taxi to the port, and slowly made my way back towards lisbon to catch a plane home. It is always impossible to sum up a trip with a few final sentences but i will say that i would like to return to andalucia in the spring or summer. I would like to spend more time in granada (eat more nun cookies!) and find more occasions to drink mint tea and barter poorly. But for now, i am relieved to be back in some more familiar territory.

About those first few days in Lisbon...

I feel like i should go back and fill you in on some of the details i skipped over in Lisbon. So here you go:
In our first day together we took the train to Belem--a neighborhood in Lisbon that is full of reminders of the glory days of Portugal as a world power at the forefront of exploration.
We first saw the monastery of the jeronimeos (spelling? Monks dedicated to st. Jerome i believe) that was built with the money of said age of exploration. It's a perfect example of the "manuelline" style; name after a king whose architects were fans of fractals i think. Every straight line sprouts another layer of intricacy resulting in really delicately carved stone spires. The monastery was organized around a central courtyard (as per usual i suppose) and honestly, i could imagine enjoying the monk's life in that kind of place. The refectory was filled with elaborate tile mosaics (the portuguese love tile mosaics) depicting stories from the life of Joseph (Joseph of the technicolor dreamcoat fame) I explained what each panel was about to the girls but i am pretty sure they got sick of that fast.
We got lunch at a little restaurant recommended by a guide book. This was when lisa convinced me to split grilled sardines with her (i dont care if they are a specialty of portugal, they are tiny, full of bones and smell!) we then made our pilgrimage to a pastry shop that was founded 200 years ago by monks strapped for cash. There we ate the delicious cream pastries that are iconic of Portugal (think beignets and cafe dumond). They more than made up for the sardines.
Our last stops in Belem were along the waterfront where nearly six centuries ago explorers set out to find new lands. There was a great monument to them shaped like the giant prow of a ship carved in stone. Climbing up each side where some of the most famous explorers and their priests (Gold! Glory! God!) I commented that it was no wonder Portugal went into decline--there was not a single woman setting out with them.
Lastly we climbed the famous tower of Belem (i assume it is famous, it was on an awful lot of postcards). All i know is that this is the kind of tower i'd like to defend against an invading horde (assuming i was well-stocked with food and water). The only way to get to the upper levels is by climbing this narrow corkscrew of a staircase. It is so narrow that they have a complicated system of red and green arrows with timers to keep tourists going the same direction (no room to pass!). You could totally hold off an army with just a few guys blocking the stairwell. There were also awesome lookout niches carved on each floor in the corners. (I think the tower originally served to keep an eye out for invaders). Rewa and I each sat in a niche and realized we could chat with each other across the parapets. Again, words fail to capture it but i felt like i could "play pretend" in that tower forever.

That night we went in search of Gijinha and Fado--two icons of portuguese culture. We found a Gijinha bar (literally just a walk up counter) that only served gijinha (cherry liquer) in tiny plastic cups for a euro a piece. It was perfect and delicious. This bar apparently does well by being insanely specific because it has been in business for over 100 years. As we walked on in search of some soulful fado i was reminded of my days in the D.A.R.E. program. I kid you not, an unshaven, shifty-looking guy dressed in black leather and rubbing his hands together walked up to us and said in a low voice "want some drugs?" Wtf? Sometimes people look exactly as you expect them to i guess. We politely declined his offer (as well as several more from shady characters on this well-travelled touristy street). I guess the tourists are a big part of the local drug market?

We followed the advice of a guide book and just went walking in the Alfama district and listened for fado. We passed the famous Club de Fado but decided not to pay the $20 to enter (and $5 per glass of port--which is outrageous by Lisbon standards). Instead, we walked down some dark and narrow alleyways (i was nervous) but it totally payed off when we heard some applause from a distance. We found this tiny restaurant where a Japanese woman was singing the iconic portuguese soul music (odd). She was followed by a student then the bouncer and finally a cook from the kitchen. It was GREAT! I couldnt understand the words but felt moved nonetheless (could have also been the port i was drinking). This restaurant was so small we were packed in at tables and at one point i saw the cook run outside and bang on a neighbor's door for a bucket of ice. One singer was particularly good but we were distracted by his missing shirt button that left an opening for his belly button. I suggested to rewa that perhaps his belly button was the true source of the singing? In short, a ridiculous and fun night. So the guidebooks are right, you can actually just go to a neighborhood and follow your ears to a great concert!

Monday, February 9, 2015

Granada


I loved Granada--i think it is my favorite city in spain. It is very walkable and has a strong university town vibe. Looming over everything is the alhambra. I had bought tickets to see said Alhambra without knowing what that was, so allow me to fill you in too: the Alhambra is like a complex of palaces and fortresses. I guess at one point it was a city itself. It has the palace of the last moorish ruler, his smaller summer palace, the "red keep" (which totally belongs in Game of Thrones both for the name and the appearance) and a half-assed (never quite finished) spanish palace built post-reconquista. It is hard to appreciate how extensive it all is from the city but you can always feel it looming over you (it is, of course, on the tallest hill).

Our apartment in Granada was also great. It was in the Albayzin quarter (the medieval part of town) and was right next door to a convent of cloistered nuns. The best thing about these nuns was that they made and sold delicious cookies (trust my somewhat dessert-obsessed travel companions to notice the modest paper sign, "se vende dulces"). To buy said cookies you go through a side door and ring a bell. Then a little window opens and from behind a revolving shelf a nun's voice asks (in spanish of course) "yes, you would like sweets? How many?"  You order by the half kilo box and place your money on the revolving shelf and moments later a box of cookies revolves into view. Of course, you never see the cloistered nuns! It's like living in a dan brown novel except the treasure at the end is delicious anise-flavored tea cookies covered in powdered sugar. Best. Nuns. Ever.

Our first night in Granada we met up with some siblings of a friend's cousin's bookie who was studying abroad (or something like that) and she finally took us to a real tapas bar. I say 'real' because at this bar, as used to be the tradition everywhere, when you order a drink you get free tapas. And as the rounds progress they get better and better (or you get drunker and drunker, either way you are happy). Luckily the beers were half-servings or i'd be trashed in the interest if trying more food. It was fun and delicious and as i was paying (4 rounds for 3 people was under 20 euro, for perspective) the bartender asked how the food was and i told him in sloppy spanish "the best in spain up to this point!" So he gave us free shots of baileys for dessert!

Another fun/absurd/at least noteworthy thing about Granada is that it is full of hippies. According to Rick Steves (who has been our awesome and ever-present companion during this trip) Granada is where the children of wealthy northern spaniards go to disappoint their parents (lol). Suffice to say, there were a lot of drum circles and unwashed dreadlocks. On the bright side, that strange subculture made it really easy for lisa and rewa to find vegetarian food! So point to hippies i guess...

The last sight we saw in Granada was the Capilla Real (royal chapel) where king ferdinand and queen isabel are buried and some of isabel's personal effects are on display. All i can say is that isabel was definitely Catholic with a capital "C". Laid to rest next to them were Phillip the fair and Juana the mad. Phillip died when he was 28, Juana was found insane and locked away for 50 years while she was technically queen. The thing is, she had 6 children in 9 years by phillip and he was a major womanizing cheater. I think i'd go "mad" too.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Two day trips out of Seville

Friends, I'm trying really hard to upload a few photos but as best as i can tell to do that from my phone I need to download a new google app and sign away my rights to google--which most of you know i am not going to do. So alas, i guess i'll have to substitute a thousand words. Also, i realized i am still not sure if i am in seville or sevilla (spelling is hard) and have not bothered to check in the last 5 days.

Yesterday the girls and i took a bus to Jerez--the home of sherry (apparently the town used to be called Sheriz or something and the English liked it). We toured the Sandeman bodega (aka winery) where i learned more than i realized there was to know about Sherry (ask me some time and i'll relate the lesson). The tour was awesome--our guide Alicia ('Alithia' with the Andalucian lisp) wore a cape and a hat, no joke, to mimic the logo of the winery. Since it was january we were the only 3 people on the tour that was clearly meant to accomodate 30-40 tourists. It was pretty fun tho and at the end we tasted three different sherries--fino, medium and oloroso. The thing was that since we had raced from the train to the bodega to catch the tour at noon we had not eaten in hours and we were poured three full sherry glasses of 15%, 15.5%, and 17% alcohol (exactly, those numbers are apparently very important) so we got pretty drunk... By the end we were three giggling Americans trying on capes and hats while buying out the gift shop. Then we got lunch (at a place called "pastaghetti", looking back i think that was a drunk choice) and we ordered more sherry....let's just say we slept VERY soundly on the train home.

The next day (today) we caught a bus to Cordoba to see la Mezquita--the big beautiful mosque that christian kings built a church in the middle of (and have since carefully justified by filling all of the brochures with details about how before there was a mosque at that site there was an even older church...lol). It was the strangest thing to see a gothic domed church in the middle of a columned mosque. It was like two different worlds (and worldviews, i suppose) colliding. The mosque space was filled with double-arched columns and the mihrab had verses from the koran spelled out in tiny gold tiles and colored glass. The cathedral (which again was not separate from the mosque--in the middle of the space the columns suddenly gave way to gothic arches) was full of light and soaring ceilings. In too short a word, it was neat!

Side story: i wasn't feeling very well today so i ate little breakfast and was ready to try food carefully at lunch. We had a great experience with a previous menu of the day meal so we decided to try that again. I ordered the non-veg option and was greeted by a large plate of deep-fried sardines. Yum, what else could one want on a queasy stomach? Needless to say, i didn't really manage to eat lunch either.

The last place we went in Cordoba was the alcazar de los reyes christianos (fortress of the christian kings). According to our Rick Steves guidebook, it wasn't great but was supposed to be free on wednesdays. Alas, it was not free and i had to stop myself from arguing, "but Rick says..."  The fortress did have beautiful gardens that they apparently rent out for weddings. I don't know that I'd get married there, however, as it is the castle that was donated to the spanish inquisition in the 1400s and countless "false converts" "confessed" after spending time in those towers. (On a lighter note, in preparation for our journey i made the gals watch Mel Brooks' inquisition song and dance number on youtube in preparation for our visit)

We ended our tour of cordoba with a nod to the third great Abrahamic religion via a quick visit to a synagogue that survived the expulsion of the jews from Spain in 1492 by being converted to a church and hospital for people with rabies (guess there were a lot of those patients?). The hebrew carvings were discovered behind the plaster walls during building repair in the 1880s and Spain, regretting it's super anti-semitic past, ordered the building restored. It was tiny but pretty cool (and really made me reflect on the fate of spanish sephardim--pretty f***ed up).

Tonight we went back to the terrifying tapas bar with the angry waiter and i finally got some iberian ham. We couldn't stop giggling at how angry the waiter looked at all of the tourists who came in (a fair number of them as we had dinner at the ridiculously early hour of 9pm when the bar is less intimidating). We realized as we were leaving that our behavior (pointing at the waiter, whispering and laughing, stammering whenever we had to speak to him) probably made it look like we thought he was cute. This only made us laugh harder! If only he knew that we spent half the evening postulating that he had bilateral bell's palsy that made it impossible for him to smile...

Tomorrow we head to Granada--the last stronghold of the moors where hopefully we find out that Sarah's spanish was good enough to correctly buy tickets for the Alhambra online a month ago.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Seville!

Well, it's official, much as video killed the radio star, the smart phone has killed the internet cafe. I cannot locate a computer. So this blog is reduced to short stories typed from my iphone when i have wifi. So i claim no responsibility for spelling.

We are currently in Seville, Spain where the sun shines on the ubiquitous orange trees and the restaurants are not kind to vegetarians (my poor travel companions are surviving on bread, potato omelettes and brie). Everything you have heard about the spaniards' schedule is true--they eat dinner at 10 and it is normal to see families with toddlers walking around at midnight. Those of you who have lived with me lately know that i tend to go to bed by spanish dinnertime so this has been an adjustment (the siesta has not, i was born for midday naps).

Our first night in seville we went to a crazy tapas bar at 10:30 (so hip) and thoroughly pissed off the waiter behind the bar (who was juggling dozens of demanding customers) by trying to ask about meat in dishes and not knowing the routine of ordering, pickup and paying. It was much like what i imagine my surgery rotation will be like this year--i will get yelled at by the conductor of a highly ordered orchestra (the surgeon/waiter) as i try to fit in and survive (obtain food/learn medicine).

For my birthday we went to the museo de bellas artes--a converted convent filled with spanish art from the medieval period through 20th century. It was beautiful, inspiring and CATHOLIC. I swear 70% of the art was the virgen mary. The converted chapel had massive rennaissance pieces that soared up the walls to the high vaulted ceiling that was also intricately carved and painted. They had subtle choir music playing as you walked in so the effect was very other-worldly. The grand religious pieces were inspiring but my favorite works were paintings of ordinary Sevillanos from the 20th century.

That evening we crossed the river to Triana and followed a guidebook's advice to simply "follow our ears" to find traditional flamenco music in a local bar (but only after 12:30am). This sounded idiotic to me and i figured we would be three girls cold and wandering lost in a strange country at 2am but it totally worked! We found a bar with a great flamenco guitarrist and a few singers. It was packed with locals (we were lucky to claim a pillar to lean on) and we enjoyed the first part of a great show (we called it quits at 1:30--too late for us! Tho there were at least 5-10 people over 65 who were still there when we left...how embarassing)

We succesfully made it back to our apartment by 2am and felt super hip for staying out so late (and then slept till 12:30pm the next morning).

A few observations about Seville:
---the little kids are dressed incredibly well. So freaking fashionable--i've seen 6 yr olds with more style than me on my best day.
---it is okay to drink beer by about 11am by my observation. But it is also okay to be eating breakfast at 1pm
---the siesta is real. Stores close between 1 and 3:30 or even till 5:30. I'm really not clear when people work mostly because there are lots of stores that i have yet to see open. But then i've also seen construction workers repairing the street at 11:30pm on a saturday-wtf?
---seriously dont be a vegetarian in spain. Or lactose intolerant.

Friday, January 30, 2015

Tapas

My apologies for the long interval with no news. It is actually very tricky to find a computer and the time to use it while traveling. Lots of cafes have free wifi but it is very hard to blog from one's phone. That is what I have been reduced to now (sorry for the inevitable spelling and capitalization errors). So i want to give you just a taste--some tapas if you will (as is appropriate since we three girls arrived in Seville this evening)--of the stories that will come when i find an internet cafe tomorrow.

1) trip to Belem on the famous trams past crumbling mansions and political graffiti
2) I explored an ornate monastery that was so perfectly preserved that i kept turning the corner expecting to see a monk.
3) i climbed a tower that in different times was used as a political prison, a defensive fort and a watchtower to ward off the evil spaniards. All i kept thinking was that it would be highly strategic in a zombie apocalypse.
4) imagined myself as henry the navigator setting out for the unknown
5) ate sardines, regretted said decision
6) ate pasteis de belem (sweet custard tarts) at a 200+ yr old pastry shop and regretted nothing
6.5) ordered shots of cherry liquor (gijinha) for 1euro a cup from a 150 yr old walk up counter that serves only this liquor.
7) wandered a neighborhood at 10pm listening for music and applause to try and find a good "Fado" club
8) found a fabulous, very casual Fado club and drank port wine while enjoying performances that occasionally included the cooks and stayed past midnight