Flamenco dancing!

Flamenco is a form of Spanish folk music and dance from the southern region of Spain - Andalusia. It includes cante (singing), toque (guitar playing), baile (dance) and palmas (handclaps). 

In 2010 UNESCO declared flamenco one of the “Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity”.
 
Antonio said that Flamenco and its costumes – the dress, shawls, hair pieces, shoes, fans etc. of flamenco is still very much “alive” in Spain. Each year there are new flamenco styles, patterns etc. brought out for the season. The dance and music is still common and taught.
 
Our tour experience included a wonderful dinner, followed by an incredible flamenco performance at “El Patio, Sevillano” (Seville). Seville is famous for its Flamenco. 

Prior to the dinner one of its performers came out to speak with the group bringing with her some of her own flamenco costumes. She demonstrated how the hair pieces, shawls etc. are worn. Re: the shawls - Antonio said many dancers feel exposed without their shawls, wanting them to cover their 'ravine' – aka cleavage. ( I laugh.)

OH how I envy her beautiful dresses – as well as her skills as a flamenco dancer!

How much do I wish I had one of those dresses, as well as a suitably grand occasion to attend thus attired! And, of course, the good looking boyfriend (age appropriate) to take me.

Oh well. I guess that's where imagination comes into play. 

No pictures were allowed during the performance. However earlier while in Mijas, fellow group traveller Ellen and I had been treated (no better word for it) to a free flamenco performance in Mijas's central square. 

It was absolutely magical! I took pictures there. It was tough to photograph given the movement, but hopefully these will give you a wee sense of the drama, passion and beauty of the dances. 

Travel memory:

Our dinner at “El Patio” included wine. During the performance our group was also allowed to order one more drink. Those of us who hadn't finished our dinner wine took our wine glasses into the performance hall to finish before ordering our additional one. 

One of my fellow travellers (Was it Rich? – or was it Ben?) recommended to me to “fill it to the top” before I left the dining area. 

I laughed. 

He said, "I'm not kidding."

So I did.

Then later as we took our seats in the performance T.J. sat down next to me and I saw him glance quizzically at my absolutely brimming full glass of wine. I told him how I took Rich's/Ben's (?) recommendation.

T.J. simply dryly said, “So I see.”

Ah yes. I laughed.
It's good to giggle.

Valle de los Caídos - "Valley of the Fallen"

Cuelgamuros Valley, Sierra de Guadarrama, vicinity of Madrid, Spain

This incredible structure is a Catholic basilica built originally as a memorial by Spanish general and dictator Francisco Franco to honour and bury those who fell during the Spanish Civil War. It was claimed by Franco that the monument was conceived as a "national act of atonement" and reconciliation, however even to this day it remains controversial. 

Consider:

• 10% of the construction workforce consisted of convicts, some of whom were political prisoners

• Franco is buried there

• Franco is buried there although he did not die in the Spanish civil war

• Jose Antonio Primo de River, founder of the Spanish Fascist movement is buried there

• These graves continue to be a symbol of fascism and is a draw to those inclined toward it – Antonio said that only a few months earlier when he was visiting with a group that a young man came to Franco's grave, knelt on one knee and made the 'heil hitler' salute

Regardless, Franco wanted this monument to reflect "the grandeur of the monuments of old, which defy time and forgetfulness".  Without question it has achieved that criteria and is, quite simply, awe inspiring. 

 
The long vault was tunnelled out of solid granite, piercing directly into the side of the mountain. It continues to the massive transept, which lies exactly below the cross above.

This cross - The "Basílica de la Santa Cruz del Valle de los Caídos”, aka the “Basilica of the Holy Cross of the Valley of the Fallen” is the tallest memorial cross in the world and is hewn out of the granite from the granite ridge upon which it is erected. 

In 1960 Pope John XXIII declared the underground crypt a basilica. However, not unconditionally. Although Franco said this was a tribute to the Spanish conceived as an act or reconciliation, the only bodies buried there were those which fought on his side. 

His Holiness would not sanctify the structure until it also housed the earthly remains of soldiers from Franco's opposition was well. This was rectified.  In addition, since no church or basilica can be larger than St. Peter's in Rome, the vault had to be divided with gates shortly near its entrance so that the length of the "basilica proper" was shortened. 

The Benedictine Abbey of the Holy Cross of the Valley of the Fallen (Spanish: Abadía Benedictina de la Santa Cruz del Valle de los Caídos), on the other side of the mountain, houses priests who say perpetual Masses for the repose of the fallen of the Spanish Civil War and later wars and peacekeeping missions fought by the Royal Spanish Army. 

No pictures of its interior were allowed so the picture/s here I took from the web – just to give a wee sense of what it was like.  (I took all the other pictures, just not the ones of its interior, just to be clear.)

It was built in a breathtakingly inspiring and beautiful location. It took my breath away. 
(Once again don't forget to click on the images to see the photos best.)

Monument to Miguel de Cervantes

Plaza de España, Madrid

This is a tribute to Miguel de Cervantes, Spanish writer of the world famous novel of Don Quixote de la Mancha and his trusty squire, Sancho Panza. In front is the bronze statues of Don Quixote on his horse, Rocinante and Sancho Panza on his mule, Rucio. Behind them a is statue of Cervantes himself, looking over his creations.

On either side of Cervantes, on their own pedestals, are the two "true loves" of Don Quixote - the simple peasant girl Aldonza Lorenzo and the beautiful imaginary Dulcinea del Toboso he imagines Aldonza to be.

On the other side of the obelisk is a statue of Isabella of Portugal, the only wife of Charles V. She ruled Spain while Charles V was away fighting battles.

The globe which crowns the obelisk is supported by figures representing five continents, a tribute to the spreading of the Spanish language – and the translations of Cervantes literature - all over the world into so many other languages.

In the background is the Madrid tower or “Torre de Madrid” - an iconic landmark of Madrid.

All set, of course, in incredible beauty.

I had thought that by travelling in December I would miss out on some of the best that Spain had to offer, but I was oh so oh so oh so wrong.  Antonio referred to December as Spain's autumn - and how wonderful that was proven to be.  I got it by luck, not planning.

Click on pictures for highest enjoyment.

 

Home hosted visit

From the first moment I learned of the “Home Hosted Visit” on the tour's itinerary I was intrigued. As the title suggests, this event gives a group the opportunity to be served a home cooked meal, prepared by a local lady, in her actual home. From the reviews and then confirmed later by Antonio, more often than not our hostess does not speak English.

I began to reflect upon what it is about this event that makes it so very appealing. One aspect, I believe, is that we human beings often have a deep curiosity about the lives of the people around us. The driving, underlying reason/s for this curiosity will be different for each different type of circumstance we encounter, some reasons possibly more noble than others.

In this case I certainly know what fuels my interest – it is to help me “imagine”.

Imagination is a wonderful gift and a trait which was encouraged in me in my very youngest days by my parents, bolstered by play and fired by reading. Imagination still plays an active part in my life, particularly when it comes to travel.

So often I am blown away by the sheer beauty of the places I visit. I look up at the windows lit up at night of the local apartment buildings and wonder about those who live there. I see the quaint cottages or homes so very different from the type of home where I live, set in such incredibly beautiful locations and I imagine – who would not? - what it might be like to live there. The side streets, the neighbourhood churches, even the local grocery stores and markets frequented by residents are of deep interest to the travellers of the world.

Yes, yes, of course I realize that 'home is best', surrounded by friends and family and the familiar. And that is right and how it should be. Nevertheless, travel provides me with endless dreams of, if not actually living permanently in some of the outstandingly beautiful places in this world, then winning a lottery and having the ability to spend an extended time in the best of the best of them. And so many places of Spain, without question, falls into that category.

So, how wonderful it was to have the opportunity to catch a wee glimpse of the homes of real Spanish people. And we were blessed with not just one home, but two – the first having the honour (truly) of visiting the home of and saying a (shy) “Hola” to Antonio's parents (yes!), and then sitting down and having a meal with our hostess Loli a short walk away.

Antonio had explained to us about how these home visits began. In fact, the success of these in his home village were instrumental in having them introduced to all of GCT's tour itineraries. Our hostess, Loli, was one of the first to 'get on board' with the idea when it was first proposed to the ladies of the village. She has not had a charmed life and has worked very hard in order to purchase a charming home of her own, filled with her pets and new puppies (and, we heard via the 'grapevine', also a boy friend).

And we were doubly blessed (or I guess that would be triple blessed) with having among our group “T.J.” who speaks fluent Spanish. (Thank you again T.J. for your skills, not to mention your good humour and patience with translating our questions.)

What to say? The meal was one of the best we had while in Spain. Loli was lovely. Via T.J. she shares a love of growing tomatoes (just like me!) and we were able as a part of our menu to sample dishes she created with them. It was lovely to be introduced, even in this limited way, to a small slice of the rural Spanish culture. It was delightful, and – as an additional bonus - it is nice to think we – as a group of strangers from another continent – are able in a small way to help the local economy.

The biggest thing I took away, of course, if the memories of the village, the home, and the people which helps 'flesh out' and feed my imagination – especially welcome during the hard, bitter months of a Canadian prairie winter.

It is good to dream.

Gatos Españoles!

I am still not quite up to composing and putting together a 'more meaningful post', but decided now was a good time to post something completely frivolous - a few Spanish cats!

I tried to place these cool cats in an environment that clearly demonstrated that they weren't prairie Saskatchewan, Canadian cool cats... i.e. in a courtyard of a Spanish home, in front of tropical foliage, on rocks against the Mediterranean Sea, sheltering in lava rock (at least that's what I think it is, always meant to ask Antonio but forgot), on cobbled streets, against rock walls and the like.  Hope you enjoy, superficial though this topic may be.  :) 

Here's a song I used to sing when I was a child... then as a teenager to my younger sister and brother:

Oh Señor Don Gato was a cat,
On a high red roof Don Gato sat.
He went there to read a letter,
Meow, meow, meow
Where the reading light was better,
Meow, meow, meow
T'was a love note for Don Gato.
How he adored that lady cat,
Who was fluffy, white, and nice and fat.
There was not a sweeter kitty
Meow, meow, meow
In the country or the city
Meow, meow, meow
And she said she'd wed Don Gato.
Oh, Don Gato jumped so happily,
He fell off the roof and broke his knee.
Broke his ribs and all his whiskers,
Meow, meow, meow
And his little solar plexus,
 Meow, meow, meow
Aye caray!!! cried poor Don Gato. (alternate line: "Ay carramba!" cried Don Gato.)
Well the doctors all came on the run,
Just to see if something could be done.
And they held a consultation,
Meow, meow, meow
About how to save their patient,
Meow, meow, meow
How to save Señor Don Gato.
But in spite of everything they tried,
Poor Señor Don Gato up and died.
Oh it wasn't very merry,
Meow, meow, meow
Going to the cemetery,
Meow, meow, meow
For the end of poor Don Gato.
As the funeral passed the market square,
Such a smell of fish was in the air.
Though the funeral was slated, 
Meow, meow, meow
He became re-animated,
Meow, meow, meow
He came back to life Don Gato.
(optional refrain: For he had nine lives, Don Gato.)

I still remember the tune.  
It's going through my head.  
What can I say?  

It's good to laugh.

Feliz año nuevo - 2015!

I must apologize for my recent silence, although I suppose those who regularly follow my travel blog are used to it.  Alas, I have been 'down for the count', suffering and only just recovering from a particularly virulent cold.  Without actually knowing anything about it - i.e. I know nothing about incubation periods following exposure to germs, etc. - but I am going to blame the lady and her very sick little boy who sat next to me on my flight from Lisbon to Munich.

Picture this:  a small boy probably 3 or 4 years old with a very congested chest (you could hear it in his laboured breathing) laying across the lap of his mother who was sitting next to me.  He was one sick little puppy, sneezing ceaselessly (no kidding) and without any barriers into our shared air.  Now picture one week and one day later developing a very sore throat and sinus cavities, followed rapidly with all the rest of a full blown cold:  runny nose, chills then fever, and utter fatigue.

It really did take it out of me over the holiday season, but looking on the positive side of things I suppose there could have been worse times for it.  Yes, I did not get to have that uninterrupted, highly productive time at work alone but then again my absence would not have interrupted more important external bookings etc.  Yes, I did not get to use my home time leisurely going through my pictures and adding to my blog but on the other hand I had many days to simply lay in bed and get better when I had no other demands on me.

So friends and family - Feliz año nuevo - 2015!

Wishing you all prosperity, good health, good friends, and countless good times - for 2015 and beyond!

Here's to new experiences and new friends!