The Game of Thrones in Caceres

Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here's my version, then theirs.

The other morning as I was walking my two daughters to school, we were surprised by something you don’t see every day, even if you do live in Europe’s third largest preserved medieval city. As we crossed Santa Maria square and headed towards the Arco de la Estrella, twenty five men dressed in armor suddenly emerged out of the seasonal fog. The sound of their swords rattling along the paving stones added a new twist to the sonic landscape of our morning routine. One of calm that usually consists of the calls of storks, a distant harmonica played by a local girl or the click clack of the high heels of a civil servant rushing to work. Perhaps the most interesting thing is that my girls didn’t seem to find the foggy apparition out of the ordinary in the least. After all, we do live in a walled fortress and the pretend warriors did seem to be more congruous with our surroundings than the delivery trucks that we usually have to slalom around. In fact they didn’t even react until one of the soldiers stopped, clicked his heels and saluted them. Their lack of surprise is likely due to the fact that they have grown accustomed to the film set atmosphere that our medieval gem has taken on this year. I have to admit that the break in the morning rush also jolted me out of automatic pilot and reminded this Canadian of the very different surroundings that I found myself in. Some surprises are welcome and this apparition indeed put a needed positive spin on what was going to be a long day. That said, some surprises come as less welcome. It’s a good thing that I am a faithful reader of this paper because if I wasn’t, more surprises would catch me off guard. Hot on the heels of these saluting soldiers, the next invader to siege the old town for a few days will be the Game of Thrones. It’s a good thing the consortium has begun its well greased information campaign to let us all know when the streets will be cut and exactly what options will be available to us when trying to get our groceries around Jamie Lanister. Problem is, in the spirit of the staging, I think their carrier pidgeon got lost along the way.

A Little More than Just a Headline

Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here's my version, then theirs.

Long before moving to Caceres, I spent some time teaching and traveling around the ex-Soviet republics that straddle the Caucasus Mountains. Cowboy capitalism was rampant in the area and as a result the locals were quickly beginning to realize that perhaps the new reality they had long dreamed of wasn’t as great as they had expected. In Azerbaijan, the only highway that had been repaired since the Soviets had left was the one that ran from the capital to the oil terminal where the pipeline to the West began. The so-called friendly West’s main concern was made very clear on the only smooth road in the country. Beyond that shiny tarmac to the Caspian, the rest of the country’s infrastructure was in steady decay. Once glorious squares that gave homage to the Socialist republic were now covered in weeds. Now, headless statues of Lenin and Stalin presided over crumbling monuments to a different era. The money had run out and there was no one left to care for the grandiose projects that crumbled in each main square as you travelled from Baku to Tbilisi. The new dictators had their own cult of personality to build and mother Russia wasn’t paying in dollars. No one had the time to think or care about the past. Public works projects often tend to be that way. The 4-year politician gets some money from the EU and puts up some Caceres Centro signs that are soon forgotten, left to literally fade away. Now the new idea is to build an escalator in Alzapiernas street to help the steady stream of pensioners who come and visit our fair city get up that steep hill. How long until those rotating stairs stop turning? If grafitiers can’t be stopped from splattering the walls along Pintores and Moret street with their brutally ugly scrawl, how long will it take until something gets caught in the stairs? Alzapiernas (raise your legs) earns its name, especially after a day touring the old town but you only have to climb the stairs and look across the street for a reminder of another project left to rot, the infamous elevator to nowhere.

Ibn Battuta meets Ronda

Way back in 1350, Ibn Battutah noted that Ronda was one of "the strongest and best sited fortresses" in all Andalusia and even today attacking it would be a bad idea. Neatly tucked behind the Sierra de las Nieves, this rocky outcrop has been a favored place to hang your hat since long before the Romans invaded the peninsula. Come late in the afternoon, or better yet, stay the night and wait until the army of tour buses wind their way over the Puerto del Madroño and down the Dramamine-popping highway back to the coast. After the daytrippers have gone home, the locals come out from behind their souvenir counters to play and turn this back into an Andalusian village. This particular reconquista is one the medieval Muslim traveler wouldn't have minded at all.

#history #smalltown #mountains #getaway #medieval #muslim #muslimarchitecture #fortress #daytrip #walledcity #geologicalanomaly #14thcentury #onthebeatenpath #citywalls #medievaltown #walls #fortification #alandalus #muslimspain #ibnbattutah #reconquest

Originally published on Trazzler

Sandwiched in between 2 Deserts, Yazd, Iran

Sandwiched between two immense deserts, Yazd has been a welcoming oasis for a long time, no really, a LONG time. Whether UNESCO is right in claiming it is one of the oldest continually inhabited places on the planet or not, the cool shade thrown by the shapely adobe walls and the refreshing breezes trapped by the badgirs (windtowers) will sate any parched traveler in the baking summer heat. While legend has it the locals weren't so kind when Alexander was testing his Greatness in the area, they even threw him in jail, today's residents will gladly show you the way when, not if, you get lost in the labyrinthine old town.

#desert #archaeology #history #getaway #ancientcultures #labyrinth #unescoworld heritage site #oasis #unesco #ancient #ancientcivilizations #jail #alexanderthegreat #windtower

Originally published on Trazzler

Floating the Channel in Penticton, B.C, Canada

Inching along at a crawl, bumper to bumper and the only thing you feel is...peace, quiet, and the gentle lap of water on your pedal foot. After all, this is not your everyday crosstown traffic. Under the summer sun, skip the gridlock and get to Skaha Lake by floating down the four-mile waterway that cuts Penticton in two. The flow of this jam is at the whim of the water, and serious sunburns can set in before you bob to the end. An option is to get off halfway and have a friend pick you up, or get Coyote Cruises to rent you a tube and take you home. This way, the only puncture you'll have worry about is one that will definitely get you refreshingly wet.

#adventure #cruise #river #outdoors #nature #lake #swimming #boat #summer #escape #kayaking #getaway #canoeing #outfitter #tubing #peaceful #water #paddling #travel #urban #serene #waterway #freshair #urbanoasis #tanning #sunbathing #tube #byboat #boattrips #rivertrip #sunning #riveradventure

Originally published on Trazzler

The Siesta Taxi

Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here's my version, then theirs.

Like it or not, the first and last faces that visitors encounter when arriving someplace new are its taxi drivers. And while the vehicles they drive around the world vary enormously, the drivers themselves often share at least one common characteristic, they like to talk. A trait that can come in handy to a travel writer trying to discover that special something beyond what you can see in the tourist brochures.The other day as I was leaving Madrid and came upon the unexpected closure of the blue metro line (1), I was forced to jump a taxi to get to Atocha in time for the slow train to Caceres. Our driver was at the end of his shift and his rolling commentary about the goings ons during the previous night’s Gay Pride march was infinitely more entertaining than the insightful analysis I would later read about in the newspapers, that basically focused on the tonnes of garbage that had been produced. In the two kilometres between Sol and Atocha, I was able to get a street level opinion of Carmena’s Madrid that I wouldn’t find in guidebooks, the ABC or even El Pais. An eternity later, after our train crawled into Caceres, we missed the two taxis that were waiting and had to call radiotaxi. As we waited in the midday 40 degree heat, we chatted with some Scottish tourists who had asked the RENFE agent to call for another taxi. Thirty minutes later a taxi finally arrived but he hadn’t come for either of us. In the interest of hospitality, we offered the tourists to take the taxi and asked the surprised driver to please call the central and ask where our taxi was. When the next driver finally arrived, he was shocked that we had to wait so long but unfortunately wasn’t surprised. Since they had outsourced the call service, he said this happened often. Mystery solved, now if I can only figure out why it cost us so much more to get to the old town from the station in little 'ol Caceres than it did to get from Sol to Atocha.

Battuta in Malaga

Malaga means grapes, and has for a long time. While the ancient Greeks were spreading philosophy and art throughout the Levant, they thankfully left behind the art of viniculture on the Costa del Sol. The pious Muslim traveler Ibn Battutah, who passed through in 1350, may have frowned on it, but even centuries of Muslim presence couldn't stop these delicious grapes from being fermented and traded around the known world. Just steps from the neoislamic Ataranzas market, chunky oak casks of Moscatel, Pedro Ximenez, and Pajarete sweet wines wait to be served in Malaga's oldest wine bar, Antigua Casa de Guardia. Here, you literally chalk up points as your tally gets written up on the wine-soaked wooden bar. Basic tapas like shrimp, prawns, clams, and mussels are what's on offer, but when the wine list is bigger than the menu, why ask for more?

#culinary #wine #bar #winetasting #drinking #getaway #tapas #sherry #oldschool #nightlife #islam #winecountry #winebar #localinstitution #andalusia #grapes #bodega #dessertwine #costadelsol #ibnbattutah #sweetwine #moscatel #pedroximenez #pajarete #malagueno

Storage never looked so good. Caceres, Spain

Damascus, Istanbul and...Cáceres. Wind up the narrow lanes of Europe's third biggest intact medieval city and emerge from the labyrinth near the Plaza de las Veletas. Scan for the palace with the strange ceramic gargoyles and enter the museum. Breeze past Roman statues, Visigothic tablets, and prehistoric pig carvings that prove Spaniards have always had a thing for ham... just when you think you've seen everything, creep through a claustrophobically small door and scale down some narrow steps, the cool dampness will reach you first. In the penumbra, beautiful Moorish arches reach down into the water showing you the world's third largest intact Arabic cistern (aljibe). Who knew?

#museum #underground #getaway #medieval #water #ancient #arches #ancientrome #publicworks #oldstone #arabicarchitecture #cisterns #aljibe #waterconservation #archtecture

Originally published on Trazzler

The Southern Pilar...Ceuta and the Maranid Wall

Gaze across the blue Mediterranean at Europe while feeling the vast African continent breathing down your neck, and then remember, you're in Spain. Confused? You wouldn't be the first. Hidden behind the southernmost of the two pillars Hercules dropped at the entrance to this civilization-cradling sea lies this tiny Spanish enclave you never learned about in geography class. Homer wrote about Ceuta. Ibn Battutah set off from it. The Moroccan government sometimes complains about it (just as the Spanish government complains about Gibraltar), and if you're on your way to or from Morocco, you'll probably pass right through it. But rather than dash for the hideous border crossing, take a break, relax, and remember that the ferries leave every hour. After all, it's not everyday you can say you've been in Europe in Africa.

#beach #architecture #europe #mountains #coast #view #ruins #africa #spain #mythology #mediterranean #islam #offthebeatenpath #morocco #gibraltar #offbeat #spit #point #panoramic #odyssey #continent #hercules #geography # #ibnbattutah #confused

Soaking it in, Alhama de Granada, Spain

Alhama's name says it all...that is of course if you speak Arabic. Just a mile or two upriver from this quiet town astride a vertigo-inspiring canyon, a hot spring has been soothing aches and pains for two millennia. The town's name comes from the mineral-rich water bubbling out of the ground at a toasty 116.6 ºF. Here, the Romans built a spa that the Arabs later spruced up. The first known traveler to soak his road-weary feet here was Ibn Battutah en route from Malaga to Granada in 1350. However, if today's traveler wants to visit, they must either be guests of the modern balneario (spa) that has kidnapped the ruins or visit the site between the entirely unSpanish hours of 2 to 4pm. That or do as the local kids do and take a dip in the public land just below the building.

#spa #history #hotsprings #swimming #bath #getaway #ruins #medieval #muslim #muslimarchitecture #hammam #arab #canyon #islam #therapeutic #relaxing #remote #roman #ancient #andalusia #bathhouse #islamicarchitecture #geologicalanomaly #andalucia #ancientrome #ibnbattutah

Originally published on Trazzler

The Feria del Queso in Trujillo, Spain

Soft and sweaty in the deliciously warm early May sunshine...Gorgeous, round, curvy and even just a wee bit pungent. The Feria del Queso, a culinary beauty pageant takes place in the very town that Pizarro left off from on his way to conquer Peru. These creamy contestants sport names like Tortas del Casar and la Serena, Manchego, Ibores, Tetilla, Cabrales, all of which can make the average Spaniard, male or female, stop dead in their tracks, salivate and lose their composure. Thousands gather from all over to see them unwrapped, opened, and enjoyed. The annual event in the UNESCO heart of Trujillo is a cheese lover's fantasy. 300+ varieties from all over Spain waiting to be savored with wines from the region. A reverie that makes other pageants seem, well, not cheesy enough.

#culinary #festival #wine #cheesy #cheese #village #getaway #foodie #gourmet #dairy #chowhound #extremadura #locavore #goatsmilk #producers #artesinal #cabrales #cheesefestival #dortadelcasar #quesolaserena #iboes #manchego #tetilla #rawmilkcheese #rawmilk #spanishcheese #sheepsmilk #cowsmilk #obsessionscheese

Originally published on Trazzler