Haven’t you always wanted a monkey?

There is a song by the Canadian band The Barenaked Ladies called If I had a million dollars.  

The singer ponders what he would do if he had a million dollars.  He would buy his lady a new car, a new dress, a home and its furnishings.  One of the things he offers, should he become a millionaire: 

If I had a million dollars

I would buy you a monkey

Haven’t you always wanted a monkey? 

It’s been in my head all afternoon.  Here’s why: 

If you look at a map of Spain and find the part that is physically closest to Africa, it’s actually not Spain anymore.  That is Gibraltar, and Gibraltar belongs to the United Kingdom.  We needed to present passports to enter and clear customs to leave.  No joke.  From Gibraltar, you can stand and look out at the the Mediterranean Sea, the Atlantic Ocean, the very tippy top of Morocco and Spain.  We had a a very funny guide today.  As we got on the mini bus, he asked in Spanish what language we needed to speak, and when the crowd responded “English,” he feigned concern, winked at me (I was at the front) and paused for effect before continuing the day in a perfect British accent.  

Gibraltar is a British territory, and often useful from a strategic, military standpoint, but it is also really beautiful.  There are two things that everyone who goes to Gibraltar seems to need to do- visit the caves and see the monkeys.  There is a large cave in the stone of Gibraltar, and it has been converted into a performance venue.  Cas and I stood on the stage for a moment.  

Gibraltar is also home to Barbary macaques.  It’s so much easier to say monkey.  They are fearless, having shared space with humans for so long.  One of them rode on top of our mini-bus and banged on the roof a while.  It was entirely bizarre.  When we left there, we had lunch at a place right on the water where they sold fish and chips.  We wandered around in our remaining time to an Irish pub- the whole thing was strange.  We had to pay our check with a credit card, having no British Pounds to spend.  In the middle of all things Spanish, the pocket of England was very interesting.  Everyone was British, and they all seemed happy.  I think this is what it would be like on the actual British Isles if they had more sunshine, because it was an absolutely beautiful day.  We wrapped up there and headed back to Marbella, where we are again for the second evening.  This town is more geared toward people who love shopping and nightlife, so Cas and I may just relax and take a dip in the very swanky hotel pool.  Tomorrow, we head to Granada.  A week from now, we’ll be at our house in Dallas.  Until then, buenas noches!

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7

I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a lot of bull to me

This morning, we started off in Seville and headed for Ronda.  Ronda is a cliff side town with three bridges.  Interestingly, we crossed the “new” bridge on foot.  That one was built in the 17th century.  I believe our guide said the oldest one was built in 49 BC.  I guess when you have something that ancient, anything from the 17th century seems new.  

The thing to see in Ronda was the bullfighting ring.  Evidently, their ring is very famous.  

We learned a bit about bullfighting today.  I had never been interested in it, but to hear the process explained, it sounds unnecessarily brutal.  I’m no animal rights activist or anything.  I eat meat and I don’t particularly care for it when people bring their dogs into stores and onto restaurant patios.  I realize this makes me part of a grumpy minority in the US, but I am who I am.  Even still, the practice of bullfighting from start to finish seems pretty cruel.  The first thing that happens is that they take the bull from its home and put it in a small pen for a few days before the fight.  They feed it, of course, but it doesn’t get to move around a lot.  On the day of the fight, it is ushered into the ring, where the first thing that happens is apparently a tendon in its neck is cut so its head stays low.  This prevents the fighter from some of the more fatal injuries.  After that, and I am not sure if I heard it all correctly, another incision or two is made to further disable the animal, then the fancy footwork of the fight actually begins in earnest.  At the end of the fight, if the man wins, he is to kill the bull quickly with a sword.  If the bull is the victor, he may go back to wherever he came from and help breed more bulls.  Not sure if the low-hanging head from the cut tendon makes him less attractive to the ladies, but it seems better to be pressed into stud service than killed in the ring.  

If the bullfighter is well loved by the audience, he is encouraged to cut off an ear after his victory.  This is a great prize.  If the bullfighter is amazing, the crowd insists he take both ears.  If he is out of this world, they encourage him to take the tail.  

The whole thing really does seem unnecessarily cruel.  Cas and I started to think of other things they could add to the process.  Maybe beforehand, they could question the bull’s parentage and mock him for his inability to read.  Have they considered a clown wig?  Maybe they can call him names and let him know how well his old girlfriend is doing with her new fella.  Why just stop at disabling him, killing him for spectacle and taking his parts as trophies?  Like I said, it seems a bit much.  

There were a few people in our group who were truly offended by the tour.  They were the same ones who were having the conversation about what they feed their dogs the other day, and it sounded like their dogs eat better than I do during the work day.  I get it, though.  If you love animals, this whole process is unconscionable.  I am pretty ambivalent toward animals, and I thought it was barbaric.  

If I’m being honest, though, the bullfighting ring was a beautiful building, the town was gorgeous and the afternoon was just about perfect.  Cas and I are getting settled in to our hotel room in Costa Del Sol, now, in a city called Marbella.  The place is absolutely stunning.  We have dinner plans at 7:30, but since sundown is so late, I think we may take a walk to the beach after that.  These days are very long right now- but that may have something to do with the fact that the summer solstice is in two days.  Pretty good timing, if you ask me.  

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7

As seen on TV

As it turns out, nobody in our group needed a haircut.  Evidently, most folks take care of things like that before leaving home.  I guess Cas and I are as guilty as anyone else.  I’m not even sure there are any barbers in Seville.

Seville was the site of the 1929 Iberian-American exposition, and as such, plenty of countries from the Americas and those on the Iberian peninsula constructed exhibition buildings to highlight their national points of pride and their cultures.  Those buildings still stand.  We took a loop around the city a few times on the bus tour, landing eventually at the pavilion building for Spain.  It had been there since 1929, as have all of the exhibition buildings, but the Spanish building was the backdrop for a few movie scenes.  Notably, Lawrence of Arabia had a moment where Peter O’Toole walked down a grand staircase in the pavilllion, and some Star Wars movie from the second set of movies used the whole place and its extensive courtyard space as a royal palace.  Frankly, of the three sets of Star Wars movies so far, I had very little interest in the second set.  Cas had seen the film in question, of course, and he had played a video game that took place in that space.  He pointed at a staircase and noted that R2-D2 really struggled with the steps in the movie.  

Either way, it was a beautiful building.  The scenery was lovely and somehow, a woman was using a large-scale bubble-blowing mechanism, so the whole place had big soap bubbles all around, which kids were chasing.  For a moment, Cas was chasing them, too. 

After we left the Plaza de Espana, we went to the neighborhood where the Gothic Seville Cathedral is located.  The cathedral is about what I have come to expect.  Having been raised by pragmatic Minnesota Lutherans, I often marvel at the decorative elements in cathedrals, and this one was not any different in that regard.  Evidently, the Seville Cathedral is the third largest church in the world, according to our tour guide.  The Internet has a few different ideas about which churches are bigger and which ones are smaller smaller.  Evidently, church size is up for discussion.  Still, it was beautiful, and to be sure, we took plenty of photos.  After the Cathedral tour, Cas and I had a particularly leisurely lunch.  We sat at a table in a sidewalk cafe for a whole meal, then shared a glass of Sangria after the meal was over.  The people watching was just that good.  

After we got back to the hotel, we relaxed a bit and got ready for our evening activities.  We did that by locating, purchasing and consuming a bottle of delicious Spanish red wine.  Having accomplished that, we were ready for the Flamenco show.  Cas and I were both impressed by the highly skilled dancers, though we were both more impressed by the guitar player.  Cas and I have both seen Eddie Van Halen in concert, and while Cas says that the guitar player this evening was no Eddie Van Halen, the two of them could have a meaningful conversation.  Either way, the dancing was interesting and the music was spectacular.  

The show actually wrapped up at 8 pm, and we had dinner afterward.  It seems strange to think about that from an American perspective, but the sun didn’t even think about diminishing until 9 pm, only to actually take the plunge at 9:30.  No wonder why Spaniards have a late dinner.  

Tomorrow will start here and head to Costa Del Sol by way of Ronda.  Should be a good one.  We need to get to sleep so we can be up in time for all of that.  Buenas Noches!

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7

The Córdoba

This morning, we took a high speed train with our tour group from Madrid to Córdoba.  It was a journey that would have taken four or five hours by car, but took only two by this train.  I thought we would feel the speed while sitting in the passenger car, but it just felt smooth.  I think we ought to get a few of these things up and running in Texas.  That would connect Dallas, Austin, Houston and San Antonio very nicely.  Enough about the logistics of travel, though, I think now would be a good time to talk about ‘90s sitcoms and sandwiches.  

There was a super-cute television show that was on in the ‘90s that told the story of a small airline operating out of Nantucket.  The action of the show took place more often than not at the airport there.  It was called Wings.  Somehow, my family latched on to a thing that the charcters in the show said.  Whenever they had a get together, someone would always want to order a really big sandwich.  It’s was something like a party sub, all cut into individual pieces.  I haven’t seen this show in ages, but my whole family adopted the sandwich name for any really big meal served on bread.  Sometimes, we would buy a loaf of French bread and make a similar delicacy.  The show (and subsuquently my family) called this The Córdoba.  

You know when I saw that our tour would take us to the Spanish city of Córdoba, I needed to find a sandwich there.  Sure, it was great to see the Mezquita.  If I’m being honest, I am not 100 % sure what our tour guide today was saying the whole time, but from what I could understand, the building was constructed in stages by different groups of people over may centuries to serve as a place for religious services in more than one religion.  It was strange and beautiful with Roman and Arabic pieces.  The art was some parts Boroque, some Renaissance and some Gothic.  Honestly, it was all a bit confusing.  

We toured it and the surrounding city, but afterward, we were free to find lunch in Córdoba.  We ordered something that came with bread and made sandwiches.  We couldn’t manage to eat The Córdoba in Córdoba, but we tried to get close.  Shoot for the moon; land in the stars, right?  

After the whole Córdoba experience, we got back together with our group and took a bus to a fully operational olive oil farm.  It was interesting, to be sure, but we didn’t feel the need to pack up gallons of the stuff to drag around until our flight home in a few weeks.  We did learn a lot about how the oil is made and how to do a proper tasting, but honestly, I am just not picky enough to notice the difference.  

After leaving the olive oil farm, we made our way to Seville.  Certainly, we can find a barber shop here tomorrow and see if anyone in our group needs a haircut.  This would be the place for it.  

Ooh- I love your new look.  Did you get a new hairstylist?  

Why yes, I saw the barber of Seville!

What’s his name?

Figaro.

It would be a good story.  Still, I think my hair is about the right length where it is, and Cas had his trimmed before we left Dallas.   

But I digress.  As usual.  It’s late, and we have a rather full day tomorrow.  We have some sightseeing to do and a traditional Flamenco show in the evening. Good night, everyone.  Hasta Mañana.  

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7

Holy Toledo

I had to call this entry Holy Toledo.  I’m afraid I had no choice.  Cas and I met up with our group today and boarded a bus to the city of Toledo.  And, yes, Toledo, Spain is a sister city to Toledo, Ohio.  Fun fact- the sisters Toledo were the first two cities in the world to develop such a relationship, so wherever you live, if your city has a sister city, it was only because the Toledoes invented the idea.  

When we got there, we got a few suggestions and a hand-marked map from our tour director.  We had a few hours to kill, after which, we would have a guided tour of the Toledo Cathedral and a few other buildings of great significance.  Somehow, we had to walk through a store first where they sold knives and swords.  Sure, it was pretty neat when we watched the craftsmen bang out a sword from heated metal with his hammer and anvil, but when the demonstration took two minutes and the gift shop took 30, Cas once again had occasion to appreciate that he found a woman who does not like to shop.  We walked out empty handed, though I did take the opportunity to snap a photo of Cas next to a full suit of armor.  We lacked the time (and the permission) to find out who wore it better, but certainly, Cas would have looked pretty great in the head-to-toe battle gear.  

The other really silly thing Cas needed to do today was swing past a place called the museum of cheese.  There are actually lots of shops around Madrid called The Museum of Ham, but Toledo was the first to feature a museum about cheese.  Specifically, it was about Manchego cheese, which is made from sheep milk.  

The guided tour was very interesting.  Our guide, Carlos can trace his family tree back for many, many generations in Toledo.  He had the most excellent timing of any guide I have seen.  He managed to walk into a site right as the last group was walking out and find the exact moment when the other half dozen tour groups were just behind us on the way to the bathroom.  The guy was magical.  

When we left there, we got on the big fancy bus and headed back to Madrid.  It’s our last night here, and we decided to try out one of the restaurants Riu recommended.  She lives in Madrid, and she has some stated preferences.  We went to one that was close by, and we were seated next to a woman who was clearly going for some kind of Guinness record for smoking.  She looked to be in her late seventies, though she may well have been my age, and she seemed to light a new cigarette every time the last one was extinguished.  She was sitting with a man who had a similar look.  One of them had an oxygen tank or some sort of portable air delivery device on wheels.  I was glad our chain smoking friend was so careful with her smoldering ashes.  A can of compressed gas near a smoker is a little terrifying.  Something we have learned about Spain (or maybe it’s just Madrid) is that it takes forever to pay the check at a restaurant.  You have to ask for it.  Usually, we have had to ask at least twice.  Even then, they take a while processing the transaction. It was about fifteen minutes this time, or in case you wanted to measure time in old Cruella de Cigarette terms, it was about two cigarettes.  I just know that my hair smells like an ashtray, and we will both be happy for tomorrow morning’s shower.  

Speaking of tomorrow. Cas and I have to be up and fed really early so we can take a high speed train to Córdoba.  Best to turn in early.  Good night!  

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7

Play Freebird

Last night, we went to the Plaza Mayor, which is effectively the busy, downtown square in Madrid.  The whole place was full of people, with restaurants and shops along the four sides of the main square and in all the walking paths leading to it.  The destination was a restaurant we’d be having a traditional dinner in, and since we’re Americans in our group (and two Canadians), we had the run of the place for what Spaniards would consider the early bird special.  

The big highlight of the evening (aside from the amazing food) was the Tuna music.  The singers/guitarists came into the room where we were eating and played some songs, taking requests from the group.  

Thankfully, the suggestions were pretty standard.  Besame Mucho was the first request, followed by Despacito.  I was glad no one suggested Livin’ La Vida Loca, though I am sure they would have played that.  Thankfully, no one yelled out “Play Freebird,” as is so often the case when musicians take requests.  I am going to try to put a link in here to my audio recording.  If it doesn’t work, I will update it when we get home: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Nv_125dSS9s16RFf2ibgTva9g9adn719/view?usp=drivesdk

Fingers crossed on that one.  If it works, you’ll hear what we heard. 

The rest of the night was great.  Cas and I let the rest of the group head back to the hotel without us, and we wandered around the plaza a bit.  We had a cider, took a selfie in front of the oldest continuously operating restaurant in the world and found our way back to the hotel using the subway system.  Cas is remarkably at ease figuring out how to use mass transit in foreign countries, which is perfect, because the prospect is a daunting one to me.  We got back to the hotel and had a glass of wine before we headed to the room, and now, we’re getting ready for our trip to Toledo.  It should be an all day affair, but we’re ready for it.  

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7

I should really read Don Quixote

Today, our tour group had a large breakfast buffet at the hotel, then we packed into a very fancy tour bus for a lap around the city.  We saw countless statues and fancy buildings from different parts of Spanish history, all populating the same streets as one another.  There were palaces and parks, museums and statues and so many fountains.  We had an extremely charismatic local guide named Federico today, and he took us from place to place, narrating everything along the way.  He recommended we tell all our friends we had taken a side trip to Egypt as we strolled past the Temple of Debod, which was a gift to Spain from Egypt after the Spanish kicked in a few bucks to help build the Aswan Dam.  Quite the thank you gift.  There were fountains and statues in the center of every traffic circle, it seemed.  Behold, Christopher Columbus, or as he is called here, Cristobal Colon.  

When we had made a few laps around the sites in the city, our bus drove up to the Prado Museum.  I am not a big museum fanatic, but it was beautiful.  And I’m afraid you’ll have to take my word for it.  No photos allowed inside the Prado.  

I did write down that April 23, 1616 is the date Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra died.  The people in Madrid celebrate something that day they call Book Day.  It’s a day when you give someone a book you like.  Maybe I will also set that as my deadline for actually reading Don Quixote, since this is the second vacation during which I have felt guilt over not reading that book.  Federico assured us that Shrek and his friend Donkey were just modernizations of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.  That kind of modern appropriation of classic characters happens all the time, though.  Heck, the seniors I teach are absolutely stunned every year when I tell them that Hamlet is just like the Lion King, except everyone dies.  Still, I may put book day down on my calendar.  Seems an appropriate holiday to adopt.  

Anyhow, after the two hour bus tour and the two hour guided museum tour, Cas and I struck out on our own to have some lunch.  I managed to order a plate of Iberian Ham, though they sliced it so nicely, it would have been a shame to grab a fistful.  He got some fish.  We enjoyed our lunch, then waited about 20 minutes to get and pay the check.  We could have walked slowly away and gotten several blocks away before they noticed we were gone, but our prickly need to pay for what we ate kept us sitting at a table in a sidewalk cafe.  No matter, though.  When we left, we took a walk back to the hotel and settled in for a quick siesta.  Before that, though, I had to wash my feet.  Cas and I were both wearing our very sturdy walking sandals today, and when I took them off, I felt the immediate need to wash both the shoes and my feet.  The sandals have been out on the balcony for a while, now, and I should be able to get back into them in time for our fancy dinner this evening.  We’re told it will be a typical Madrileno dinner in the Plaza Mayor.  Not sure what that means, but we’re game to find out.  

Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/pfA2563myHYwVp6U7