Four Towns in Andalusia
I’m learning Spanish, or trying at least.
So I went to Spain.
A while ago now.
Back in Early December just as winter was setting in. Before it returned to so rudely interrupt the start of spring. So with the thought of warmer days a post with some words I thought and pictures I took.
Seville to Cadiz, Jerez to Malaga.
Four towns of Andalusia with knots of tiny tangled streets. Streets where even my stretched arms could almost touch the houses on either side. Designed to keep cool in the height of summer heat. Opening out to geometrical squares and wide boulevards. Set with waxy leaved trees and November, bitter orange fruit.
Seville
Streets punctuated by tiny bars decorated with dripping Iberian hams. From black pigs fattened on acorns on surrounding hills. Good food abounded and despite the Brexit crash in currency was still remarkably good value.
Seville Bar
Easy to fill while trying the tasting tapas menus of shrimps and tortilla. Spinach, pork or chickpeas. Wander down to the markets. Feast on more platos pequeños or indulge in a local fish restaurant.
Restaurant Marisquiria Seville fish market
Aside from food a theme soon developed. This was to be a week of cathedrals and castles. Seville the first. The cathedral a vast structure with too many chapels and off shoots to comprehend in one sitting. We grew to love the slopes of Andalusian towers. No trudging up the precarious medieval staircases for the effervescent Spanish nobility. Slopes to the top enabled the passage by horse! Now why wouldn’t you?
Seville Cathedral
Look down and see a blast of colour not seen from below. Narrow dark streets forgotten. Roof top gardens and central courtyards revealed. Previously previewed through wrought iron gates or thick barrier doors carelessly left ajar.
Seville
From cathedral to fortress. Seville’s Alcazar. Remnants of cultures, each heaped on top of the other. Straight lines and geometry of Moorish origins giving gardens more formality even than the tightly knotted gardens of English nobility. Lightened by frequently splashing fountains as water winds its way round the pristine plan. Surrounding an interior of pulled together tiles and intricate mosaics.
Alcazar Seville
For more art, religion and culture visit the old merchants house, Hospital de los Venerables Sacerdotes. See the collections spread in rooms round the typical central courtyard adorned with familiar orange trees. Drift in and contemplate in the tiny, but perfect chapel. Delicately painted and less gaudy than its larger counterparts around the city.
Hospital de los Venerables Sacerdotes
A bull fight I did not see! But the ring is a spectacle worth visiting even without the dubious stars of centre stage. Perhaps even more impressive in its emptiness. Brash paint not enough to hide the anguish of the bulls celebrated in their death.
Take a trip out of town on a rickety local bus with friendly driver to see Italia – a vast amphitheatre. Now lacking lions but still retaining some mosaics with humorous undertones.
Italica
A comfortable train to the limb of Cadiz. Bright, clean chrome of almost space age travel to yet another maze of shoulder hugging alleyways and orange shaded plazas.
Another cathedral, another ramp, for your horse, and the next Alcatraz. Low winter sun wrapped warmly round the city walls and slid soft yellow over the cathedral while parrots darted between minarets.
Cadiz Cathedral
On one side of the city a long wide beach. Deep, yellow and empty. December not the time for sun worshipers.
Cadiz Sunset
More fish abundant in markets then cooked and served to perfection in almost deserted beach restaurants. Being wrapped in down jackets, under billowing gas heaters not detracting from the delectable food.
Cadiz
On to Jerez de Ventura. For sherry. And so we went to a Bodiga. Slowly sipping this rich fortified wine. A pleasant way to sit out a shower on our only rain strewn afternoon. Sherry, I learned is organic, it can not have fertilisers, nor can it be irrigated. Being blended there is consistency of quality and flavour – we were told.
Another destination for Jerez, the Spanish riding school. Reminiscent for me of prior days spent wrapped in layers, of freezing toes and steaming breath. Not today. No sand upturned. Not a blade of straw out of place. Tack and boots and horses polished to a mirrored shine.
Jerez
Yes, another Alcatraz, another cathedral. On a mission we managed both. Less ostentatious than those of the bigger towns. Calmer, more spiritual.
Finally, thwarted by Monach Airlines collapsing an unexpected day in Malaga.
A day. Never plan more
Malaga
The Alcatraz was billed as the next best thing to the Alhambra. I don’t think so. Sevilla better. Even Cadiz. Yes it’s bigger and brasher. But if you’ve been to Warwick. Then think that without the knights. Though it has completed walls to walk and gave me a small hill to climb.
This sandwiched between Picasso and Pompidou. More contemporary than the rest of the week and a place to hide from the contents of disgorging cruise ships. Back to Northern European prices.
I doubt I’ll return to Malaga, though I already have another trip to Spain planned and paid for.
