Yikes - I'm taking a Lufthansa flight I booked through Mileage Plus to Italy in October. Am taking note of what happened to you and hoping I don't have the same problem! Guess I better plan to put phone charger in my backpack, not in checked luggage. I hope the rest of your trip got better!!!

Yes, put your charger in your carry on. I loaned my charger to a lady at my hotel in Rome as her luggage was lost with her charger in it. She was needing to make a lot of calls to track her luggage.

Peg - You must continue. I just saw a cheap flight to Spain so I'm thinking I should book it since flights to the rest of Europe seem so high this year.

I think you were caught by Frankfurt airport strike of March 27? I was caught by the Spanish general strike of March 29 and my KLM flight booked through Delta got canceled. It took me 3 hrs of calls back and forth between Delta, KLM, and KAL which finally provided a flight out of Madrid. Like your experience, none of them took responsibility of what to do and kept pushing me to go to "other" carriers. Thank goodness for the GMAIL with Wifi at my hotel along with a local SIMed phone to keep talking for 3hrs.

I hate codeshare arrangement in time of strike!

Sorry that your trip got off to such a bad start, Peg. I hope that you decide to finish the report; you write so well and seem to be able to overcome adventure. Please don't get sick of the thing so soon after whetting our appetites.

The Scientologist might have been able to help after all.

So far I'm intrigued by this report. In the midst of much misfortune, there are sudden bright moments arising from a borrowed/gifted telephone charger cord, which itself only came your way from your possible raised voice that resulted from frustration.

I hope that the rest of your report has these interconnected high and low moments without being too personally negative.
Otherwise, it's interesting reading. Looking forward to the next bit.


M

Peg - I love your sightseeing list and have entered it into my Spain file for future reference.

So sorry you had those problems with United and Lufthansa. I have United miles and also have traveled with Lufthansa. I don't even take my phone charger when I travel - just my phone but I'll be re-thinking this in the future.

Oh, lordy, I can just imagine my chubby little Scientologist friend hiking up those steep and never-ending streets in Cuenca. She would have been a sport, but it would have been an ordeal for her.

That darned jet lag woke me at 4:30 a.m. this morning and convinced me that it was time to get up. I tried to explain that it was way too early, but my body was having none of that. I've fooled around since then trying to get the proverbial house in order. I have to stay awake until 10:00 a.m., when my nephew is going to install a new battery in my car, so I may as well take another kick at the cat.

From Atocha I took the train to Cuenca, whose station is way out in the dingleberries somewhere, in contrast to the usual Spanish stations, which are generally in town. The building itself is very new and strikingly modern but is situated in a barren, almost desert-like area a 20 euro taxi ride from town. My hotel, the Posada de San Jose, is in the old town, pretty much at the top of the city. It was pleasant, filled with antique-looking pictures and furniture. My room was comfortable, with a little sort of porch sitting area with a view to the parador across the gorge from the old town.

By the time I arrived at the hotel, I was exhausted, so I didn't last long before I went to bed. I read a little first and had a light dinner in the dining room. I had a salad of tomatoes with minced garlic and scrambled eggs with asparagus and mushrooms. It was very good, especially since I'm not an adventurous eater, and it was simple food.

The next day was my big exploring day. The first thing I saw was the beautiful cathedral, which was quite different from others I've seen, much lighter inside than most Spanish churches, probably because of its gothic style. The exterior was unique, too, since it was sort of squarish, with no steeple.

Then I set off to locate the bridge crossing the gorge between the old town and the parador so that I could get a good look at the hanging houses, of which my hotel was one. I walked down the street--down down down down, completely forgetting that when one goes down down down down, one will eventually have to go up up up up. After a long walk down down down, I realized that I'd overshot my goal, the pedestrian bridge leading to the road on the other side of the gorge, so of course I began the up up up part of the walk. For a chunky girl such as myself, this was not an easy walk, but I persevered.

I eventually found and crossed the bridge, where I was able to view and to photograph some of the houses situated so perilously on the edges of the cliffs. One building had closed balconies projecting over the abyss, which I found especially scary-looking. My remark to little digital recorder was "Wow! Las casas colgadas son fabulosas". I saw lots of kids on field trips, some of them French.

As I trudged back up the streets to the Cathedral, I saw signs saying that this was the Semana Santa route. I was stunned at the idea of these men, no matter how many, carrying the huge pasos (floats) up these streets.

My nephew's here to change my battery.

I've had a few trips that have started off like that. We started to think we were jinxed, but once we actually got to where we were going, the trips were great. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of your report.

fascinating report so far...looking forward to the rest

hi peg,

well, i'm looking forward to the rest, warts and all; if you can bear to write it, i'll read it.

"things can only get better"

Better or worse, this is good reading. Hope you persevere!

Pegontheroad;

Excellent - you have reminded some of us to take the phone charger in your carry on.

I am looking forward to more of your report so I also hope you will continue.

Sandy

Hi Peg,

Reading your report with interest.

Your nightmare with the Lufthansa strike could have been worse:If it had happened once you arrived to Frankfurt. IMO, the most frustrating airport in the galaxy!

Peg, we had a similar flight problem on our trip to Ireland and we lost our first day. But when we finally did arrive it turned out to be a fabulous trip. And the icing on the cake--we had 10 straight days of sunshine, in IRELAND!! That almost never happens.

On another trip the engine caught fire on take-off and the plane filled with smoke. We made an emergency landing and I just wanted to turn around and go home, thinking my trip was doomed. But I took the next flight (with a free upgrade) and the trip was glorious. They gave me an upgade on the return flight too, as well as some free bottles of wine.

Sometimes it's good to get all of the bad luck out of the way early in the trip.

Some of the worst trips make the funniest stories later (not at the time of course!) Please do go on.

I just checked my little digital recorder to remind myself of what I was thinking and doing at various times. The first thing I heard was a comment I made as I was going down the road to the bridge: "I just passed a group of kids up some steep stairs, talking at the top of their voices and not even breathing hard. I hate those kids!" The truth is, of course, that I love teenagers. I couldn't have taught high school for 35 years if I hadn't enjoyed them.

Later, as I wandered around I found a little restaurant for lunch. I don't recall the name, but it had the word "Secret" in it. I am a picky eater, so I ordered a green salad. I didn't think that would be enough, so I added an order of spaghetti.The salad turned out to consist of some kind of leafy things with warm blobs of what I assume was goat cheese on top and warm bits of ham mixed in. It was very good but too much, so I tried to cancel the spaghetti. Too late. I managed just a few bites of spaghetti, but had to give up; however, I wasn't too full for a little ice cream.

I had not been feeling well until that time. I assume it was a lingering case of jet lag. I live in the northwest, so traveling to Europe is a tiring ordeal, confusing to my "elderly" (I hate that word!) body. After that meal, I felt much better. I rested a bit, and later at the Posada, I had the same thing I'd had the night before, the sliced tomatoes with bits of minced garlic and olive oil, plus the ever-satisfying ice cream.

The next day I left Cuenca. My digital recorder reminded me of how nice so many of the Spanish people were to me. I'm glad I recorded these comments because I might not otherwise have remembered the kindness of individuals in Cuenca. The taxi driver who took me to the train station, a young woman who was very chatty, asked me how I liked the people. I said I liked them very much, which was true. In my hotel, the receptionist was very friendly and helpful, though the server in the dining room wouldn't have won the Miss Congeniality trophy.

When I arrived at the train station, I went into a RENFE office and asked the young man there if I could take an earlier train without having to pay an arm and a leg extra. The man took me from his office and sent me down to his "colleague," and his "colleague" passed me on to another guy, an older man, who was very concerned that I was going to miss the train, so he raced down, with my luggage, and pointed out the car in which I should sit.

I had arranged to spend a night in Madrid because I didn't want to take the train to Madrid and then do a longer leg to Málaga. I stayed at the Hotel Europa, which I liked a lot. The staff was friendly and helpful, and the hotel is modern and attractive without costing a fortune. It was around $100 per night. I especially liked the shower in the bathroom, which in my experience, can be tricky in a many hotels in Europe.

I went to find a locutorio so that I could update family on my travels. I found a place with easy-to-use computers. This may seem nit-picking, but the keyboards on many computers in locutorios can be tricky, with elements like the apostrophe in odd places. No big deal, but it does slow you down a bit. I was once again hungry as well as impatient, so I went to a Burger King and ordered a cheeseburger, fries and a coke.

In the interests of simplicity, I ate at a Burger King. I don't eat fast food in the States, so I'm really not sure what it tastes like, but the burger and fries I ate in Madrid were quite bad, especially the burger. Tasteless and not really warm. I really don't understand why these places are so jammed with customers (even though I are one!)

Once again hungry for ice cream, I saw pictures of something called a "sandy." Hmm. The sandy looked like ice cream with strawberry, chocolate or caramel sauce. Finally I got it! The "sandy" is actually a "sundae" in American English. I ordered one, of course. How can you go wrong with a sundae? Sure enough, it was very tasty.

Time to get ready for Mass. More later.

It's reassuring to hear of other people's horror stories. A good thing about my experience was that it was frustrating, but at least it wasn't scary. The positive thing about missing that first day in Madrid was that at least it didn't cost me the expense of the reservation in Madrid, since Lufthansa gave me a voucher for dinner and a hotel for the night.

It seems like the airport at Frankfurt is so spread out that it just goes on forever.

Green salad and spagetti in Cuenca? A burger at BK? Then a sundae? Peg, what kind of diet is that? What'll you tell when they ask you about the food in Spain????

Josele: If anyone asks me about my diet in Spain, I'm afraid I'll have to lie. My excuse is that my culinary tastes were shaped by my childhood on isolated farms in North Dakota and Montana.

We were so far inland that we never had fish or seafood. I was 17 years old before I ate clams, somewhere in my 20's (and in Greece) when I first tasted shrimp.

Hi Peg, looking forward to your next installment. Almost 6 yrs ago we stayed in Cuenca on a whim and absolutely loved it! Thanks for the report.

After Cuenca I stayed the night in Madrid, so as to avoid a double-barreled train trip. Once again I stayed at Hotel Europa, which was once again entirely satisfactory. There's a little restaurant attached to it, where I had breakfast.

I was amazed once again by the number of people on the streets at all times in Spain. I live in a town that doesn't have a lot of street life, and the contrast with Spanish cities always impresses me. I wandered around among all those folks for a while but didn't do anything special.

I had lunch at El Corte Ingles, the big department store. I noticed the large array of hamburgers of one kind or another, but I don't eat burgers unless I'm desperate for quick and cheap food. I had a salad of some kind, since I'm a big salad eater. The next day (Saturday) I took the AVE train to Málaga, the big destination of this trip. The AVE goes amazingly fast, but has a smooth ride.

I arrived at the Hotel Don Curro, where I stayed last year, and which I liked. However, at first I was very dissatisfied. My room, a single, was very small, especially the bathroom. When one sat on the toilet, ones knees were only a couple of inches from the wall. I went downstairs and told the receptionist that I wasn't happy with the room and that I wanted a different one.

He was very uncooperative, telling me that it was Semana Santa and that there were no rooms available. I reminded him that I had made the reservation a full year before, and I also said I'd be willing to pay for a double room if they had no more singles. He was adamant, insisting that the the hotel was full.

I returned grumbling to my teensy little room, but the next morning I put on my sweetest smile and asked a different clerk if they had another room. He fixed me up with an entirely satisfactory single room, which even had a balcony. At the same time, I saw that my Kindle, which I'd been told would hold its charge for a month, needed to be charged again--six days after I'd last charged it. I was irritated.

So off I went to El Corte Ingles to see if I could find a charger, but in the meantime I bought 2 ($25 worth of) books at a bookstore near my hotel. Then at El Corte Ingles, I was very pleased when the clerk (a lovely, handsome Spanish gentleman) found a charger from some other apparatus--a tablet of some kind--that worked just fine.

The next day being Sunday, I wanted to go to Mass at the Cathedral. I had even gone to a parish in my town which has bilingual Masses and had bummed a missal from them. Well, maybe "bummed" isn't quite the right word, since I gave them a $20 donation to make up for taking their missal. I was all set. Not only could I follow the Mass in Spanish, but I could switch over to the English side if there was something I didn't understand in Spanish.

I set off for the cathedral and got hopelessly lost. I'd been to the cathedral before, but I just couldn't find it amid those winding little streets. When I realized I wasn't going to make it on time for Mass I even asked people how to get back to the Alameda Principal, but I follow directions in Spanish even worse than I do in English.

It wasn't until a couple of days later that I realized I'd gone off in totally the wrong direction, and that the cathedral was just around the corner from my hotel. Later I was...well...I guess the right word is "bemused" to learn that at the Málaga airport in terminal D3 in the vestibule is a Mass at 10:00 on Sundays.

To be continued...

Peg, did you maybe leave the wifi on your Kindle? That will eat up the charge quickly, and unless you are downloading things you don't need it on. The charge on my Kindle lasts a very long time.

Great about getting the room change!

Thanks Peg, enjoying your report.

When traveling alone in Spain I always reserve a double for single use. One time I had a similar experience with the tiny room. Not worth the savings.

Looking forward to the rest!

yes, Peg, I'm enjoying the ride too. we really liked Malaga - did you find your way to the market? It was really terrific.

We too had problems with finding our way round, but ours came when we tried to leave - first of all we couldn't find the bus to the airport, [where we were picking up our hire car] and when we'd got the car, we couldn't find the road to Granada. we ended up round the back of some workshops, and in desperation wound down the window and called out to some chaps walking along, thinking that we would have to ask for directions in Spanish, and just hope that we would understand the replies. Imagine our surprise when they turned out to be Irish! and we got to Granada eventually.

Toucan: I didn't have the wifi on, which is why I was surprised that it needed another charge so quickly.

Cruiseluv: I learned my lesson about those single rooms. In the future, I will reserve a double for single use also. I haven't written about Barcelona yet, but the room there was very small and a tad inconvenient also.

Cripes. I had a single room at a nice hotel at my last convention in Madrid.(Been there many times, always alone, and never got this type room before.) Boy did they hear about that! I believe these rooms used to be large broom closets on every floor. SERIOUSLY! Because several of us got stuck in them, all on different floors ..

It's hard for an American to even IMAGINE how small we are talking here.

I often also book a double room for single use when traveling solo. I've found single rooms to vary from tiny to the same size as a double but just with one bed. If there's a large price difference I'll email the hotel about the size of single rooms. Also, if I've stayed at a hotel in the past and liked my room I'll request the same room again - usually this request is honored. Good for you for being persistent and getting the room change!

I arrived in Málaga on Saturday, March 31, in the afternoon and didn't do much except register in the hotel and wander around the streets for a while, window shopping (shop windows filled with great-looking clothes in teensy little sizes)and having the occasional coffee and pastry--muy delicioso. The area where I stayed, the Alameda Principal, is very attractive, the Alameda actually being paved with MARBLE. Amazing! On Sunday, I did try to get to Mass, as I said, but that was a losing proposition.

In my search for the cathedral and the return trip to the hotel, I did see more of Málaga than I had intended to see, but that's the story of my life. I even brought a compass with me, but did I use it? Nooooo!

The processions began on Sunday. I tried to watch them, but without a reserved seat, it was difficult, since there were bystanders 10 deep along the route. At various times in the first few days, I would nab an empty seat and sit there until the legitimate occupants arrived. People were very nice about this, assuring me that the "owners" weren't there yet and it was fine to stay until the owners showed up. A nice man with a little boy was sitting next to me for a while. We chatted, I told him that we were both "illegales," which seemed to amuse him.

The processions were just fabulous. More tomorrow.

Sorry Peg, I thought I might be on to something re: wifi.

Paved with Marble?! amazing. Are you going to post pics?

Great trip report so far. Bless that woman who offered her spare charger. I'm awaiting your Barcelona segment as I'm going there in 2 weeks. Where did you stay? Any special tips? Thanks!

Just a couple of comments here that have nothing to do with anything. For one thing, I find many Spanish men to be extremely handsome, and that's surprising for an older girl such as myself.

The other inconsequential thing I'll mention is that once when I went to one of the two El Corte Ingles buildings in Málaga, I asked a clerk if the libreria (bookstore) was in this building. She answered in English "the othra builing," with a really strong accent, and I thought, "Is that what I sound like when I speak Spanish? Do I have that strong an accent?"

As I said before, the processions are just fabulous. There are different brotherhoods (cofradias) each of which has a group of Nazareños who lead the cofradia. The Nazareños wear very colorful, mysterious-looking robes with the pointed headgear that the Ku Klux Klan apparently adopted. Each cofradia has different-colored robes-maybe brown, or white with a red cape, or a brown robe with a black cape and a white hood, or a white robe, cream-colored cape, green hood.

In no particular order that I have been able to discern, there are often children in the processions. They are dressed in miniature Nazareño robes, sometimes with headgear similar to what the pharaohs wore. I think Spanish children are beautiful anyway, and in the robes they look very sweet!

There may be 100 or so Nazareños which lead each cofradia, followed by the paso (the float), which is carried by a large coterie of men--notice that I said "carried." The paso is a huge, ornately decorated float whose centerpiece is a statue of Jesus or the Virgin Mary. It looked to me like about 100 or so men carried each paso, their steps absolutely in coordination, so that the paso swings gently back and forth.

The pasos are difficult to describe, but in addition to the often ornately dressed statue of Jesus or the Virgin, they are covered with flowers and with candles, which are lighted at night.

Behind the paso is a band, often dressed in a fancy uniform of some sort. Somewhere in the mix are the very elegant ladies--usually four to six of them, wearing black dress, black lace mantilla, black nylons and black high-heeled shoes. What their feet must feel like after they walk 6 to 8 hours in those shoes! They carry rosaries, but I think the rosaries are just for show.

For a really good explanation of the whole process, I suggest that you go to Trip Advisor and find the report on Semana Santa in Málaga that I found before I took the trip. My report is really more of a collection of impressions and isn't as thorough as the Trip Advisor explanation. But be assured that seeing Semana Santa in Málaga is an experience you will remember all your life.

I'm going to jump around here a bit, since I don't have a careful plan for how this report is going to go. One important thing I did and that changed my experience was that I rented a seat. The route of the processions is lined with folding chairs, which you rent or lease. Behind the rows of chairs, the crowds congregate, jammed together, so that they can see the processions.

The seat was expensive (110 euros), made even more expensive in that I used the seat only 2 days/nights. It was in the first row, so I had a great view of the processions. If I hadn't been so cheap I would have rented the seat early in the week and would have had better value for the money.

Seat "owners" had left information at the hotel, which is where I rented the seat. They called the owner, and she came and showed me the whereabouts of the seat and helped me push my way through the crowd. She also warned me to bring water and a sandwich the next time I came, since it was so hard to get through the 10-deep crowd behind the seats. My neighbors were very friendly and helpful, so we had a nice time.

The second night, there were different people on my right--kind of snobby people who my neighbors on my left told me were from Madrid. The woman officiously asked if I had "una tarjeta," a card/ticket to sit in that seat. I felt very smug when I told her I did. The fact that I kept thinking that the husband was a dead ringer for an actor who played mad scientist types in the Charlie Chan movies during the 1930's and 1940's seemed to increase my sense of smugness.
Weird, huh?

I love your "impressions" type report. Hope you continue.
Any pictures?

hi again, Peg,

we haven't been in spain at the right time of year to see the holy week parades, but we did catch some of them in Seville last September; it was the brass bands that surprised me. Who knew? and the crowds, especially for the sunday parade from the Cathedral - it was even on TV! It was a window on a completely different culture for us.

Fabulous report from Semana Santa in Málaga! I was in the area a couple of weeks before it began, and the local newspapers had some 10 pages a day about the preparations. The major event of the year.

The actor Antonio Banderas is a very proud malagueño. His pregón (announcement) of the Semana Santa in Málaga in majestic Teatro Cervantes last year is said to go down in history as one of the most powerful ever. Even non-Spanish speakers should get an idea of why: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpjeDKTnKQQ

Peg, yes, for some reason us Spanish men are just too handsome...sometimes we find it hard to cope with it, hahahahaaaaa!!

Just for info, Easter processions take place in many parts of Spain...we have many beautiful ones in Bilbao, too, for about 7 days during Holy Week. Different from those in the South, more solemn perhaps, but also breathtaking.

Bookmarking

the men? How about the women!!!

Egbert: I'll check out the men. You check out the women. I didn't pay as much attention to them except to see what they were wearing.

Kimhe: I listened to his speech but didn't get it all. I'll have to listen a couple more times before I understand it better, but one can easily see that Málaga and Semana Santa are dear to his heart.

My neighbor pointed at the window of a hotel (the Larios) across the street from our seats. and said "There's Antonio Banderos!" He was in a second story window of the hotel with several other people, but I couldn't pick out which one he was. The closest I can come is to say that I saw Antonio Banderas' window.

I knew the processions take place in other places, but I wasn't going to go to Semana Santa again after having gone for the past two years; however....Bilbao...hmmm.

I watched the processions from my rented seat for those two nights. It was quite cool, and I guess sitting for so long did something to my knees, because the next morning, they were in bad shape. Getting out of bed was a major deal, with a good deal of pain. It seems to me that the pain diminished once I walked around a little, but with the second day of this condition, I was getting a little worried. I have stainless steel knees, and I was beginning to wonder if stainless steel rusts. (Little joke there.)

I finally decided to spend a day mostly in bed, reading, occasionally dashing out for something to eat and then going back to bed. That did the job. The next morning I was without pain.

I'm getting ahead of myself here. There was one day when I decided to have a look at the Alcazaba, the old Moorish fortress/castle. I walked up the twisting pathways to the top of the fortress, where there were orange trees and lush plants in pots. The view of the bay and the city were very impressive. Coming down was a little iffy for me, since the walkways were mostly cobblestones and rough bricks. I scared myself a couple of times, once having to clutch a tree branch for fear that I'd fall.

Mostly I don't want to admit that anything age-related can hold me back, but on the walk down from the Alcazaba I decided that I needed to be more selective about sights with easy access. Notice that I'm avoiding the phrase "handicap access."

From your report I can see that while DW and I have sometimes traveled independently being together or with companions or on a tour has advantages. I would not want to travel single in any case. So you have reported numerous irritations but also fascinating experiences. Hope there is more of the later than former in your final assessment.

Bill in Boston

It's a conundrum. Traveling with a partner definitely has advantages, but it's not feasible for me most of the time. Either my friends don't have money to travel or they're not able to keep up with the physical demands required. Since I live alone, I've become used to doing what I want when I want, and I think that might be a problem. I traveled with my sister for 10 years. That was perfect, but it was the exception.

Yesterday, two of my neighbor girls came over and helped me load my pictures on my computer. It was such fun sharing with them the beauty of the processions, the stunning colors of the Nazareños' robes, and the beauty of the children dressed in the clothing of the family's cofradia.

If all goes well, my nephew (aka tech support, as we call him in the family) will come over today and show me how to put up the links to pictures on my next post.

Sarah, one of the girls, commented that the Nazareños looked scary, with their capriotes (headgear) and the fact that the faces were covered except for the eye holes. When I was watching, I thought they would have been more mysterious- or impressive-looking were it not for the children who shook hands with them as they passed by and the children who amassed large balls of wax by pestering the marchers to tip the huge candles they held to drip wax on their wax balls.

But Semana Santa is truly a family affair, as evidenced by the adorable children who marched in a section of their own and by the excited children who watched from the sidelines.

As I'm writing this, I keep checking back with my little digital recorder, and I just heard the trumpets of one of the bands. The sound has the most amazing ability to draw me back to the excitement of the processions. I'm surprised at how strong is the pull to go back and experience it again after I'd decided that I'd go somewhere else next year.

Okay, now I am more or less at Maundy Thursday, the day the Spanish Legion comes off their ship and marches through town. I arrived early at a street near the harbor and waited for the Legion to arrive. They fast-marched by, chins up, with some playing bugles or trumpets for a short time, others carrying ominous-looking weapons--all very macho! Immediately in front of me was a young girl who was obviously addled by hormones. She kept yelling "Guapo! Guapo!" (handsome! handsome!) again and again until one of the older legionnaires broke from the ranks and gave her the two-cheek European kiss. She shut up after that. It was pretty funny, for some reason.

I wasn't smart enough to go to my rented seat to watch them parade down the Alameda Principal, so I had to wait to see them again until the processions that night. They were really fun to see.

As I wandered around, I saw a great ad for McDonalds, but I guess it applies equally to all of Spain. It said, "In Spain, if you return home before 3:00 a.m., it's not from going out [partying], it's from going out to dinner." That's of course a reference to the fact that Spaniards dine notoriously late in the evening. I thought that was quite amusing.

A nice lady stopped me on the street and told me that I wasn't being careful enough with my purse. I thanked her, but didn't point out that my purse was zipped shut, and that the pocket in which I carry my little wallet was also zipped shut--or that I kept only small amounts of money in my wallet. The important stuff--my passport and my large amounts of money are always in my money belt underneath my clothes. I appreciated the fact that she cared enough to point it out, though.

The same thing happened last year in Sevilla. We were watching the processions and a woman next to me pointed out that I was at risk for having my purse robbed.

Which brings me to the fact that a couple did try to rob me on the train to Montserrat. As I stepped up on the train, the man offered to help me up, but I'm a big girl, and I didn't know whether he'd be much help. I preferred to grab the train's "handicapped bar" to help myself up.

I then asked his companion if this was the train to Montserrat, but she said she didn't know. Hmmm. That's odd. You're on the train, but you don't know where it's going? I sat down, and she sat opposite me, sort of knees to knees. I put my bag on the floor between the side of the train and my legs. My bag has long straps for handles, and pretty soon, I felt the straps move against my leg. I realized what was happening and I picked up my bag and moved it. A very short time later she got off the train, and her companion left then too.

I'll probably get some flack for this, but I felt sorry for them. They looked tough--like life hadn't been treating them well. I know that it was unrealistic to think this, but I almost wished I'd followed them and given them $20 or $50.

My guess here is that I look like a sucker. Dumb tourist, not paying attention to what's happening. Well, I'm smarter than I look. I think.

So back to Maundy Thursday. The woman sitting next to me that that it was customary (for one of the cofradias) to arrange to have a prisoner released on this day. She pointed out a man wearing a different type of hood on his robe and said that he was this year's prisoner. Apparently the custom started in medieval times when there was a plague. So many people died that one cofradia didn't have enough men to carry that paso. So they had prisoners carry the paso, and afterwards all the prisoners returned to the jail. Nobody tried to escape.

If I have details wrong, perhaps some Spaniard or other expert can fill me in on the correct details.

I think Maundy Thursday was my favorite day, partly because of the Legionnaires. They are called "Los Novios de Muerte," the "bridegrooms of death." They have a song that they sing that's very dramatic. I've been translating it into English, and it seems to me to illustrate the kind of passion that I've associated with the Spanish, perhaps wrongly, but still...the song is very dramatic.

With this particular procession, the hombres de trono (guys carrying the float) sang the Legionnaires' song, and then when the Legionnaires marched in, they sang it too. Obviously many of the onlookers knew the words and sang along very enthusiastically. I noticed one man especially, a big dorky and a bit chubby, singing along with great fervor. I thought (unkindly I'm afraid) that he didn't look much like a novio de la muerte; he looked more like a novio de la cena (dinner). Bad Peggy! bad Peggy! Especially since I myself can easily qualify as a novia de la cena.

More later.

I thought (unkindly I'm afraid) that he didn't look much like a novio de la muerte; he looked more like a novio de la cena (dinner). Bad Peggy! bad Peggy! Especially since I myself can easily qualify as a novia de la cena.>>

thank you Peggy, for making me smile.

I too, to alter your aphorism slightty, am "una donna della cena".

One prisoner is pardoned by the courts every year.. he repents and is grateful for his release.

Love your report, Peggy. Love.

Wonderful report!

This is so delightful. Thank you!

At one point in the procession, the Legionnaires were stopped. Those directly in front of me were at attention, but there was another group behind them that were gently swaying from side to side, in unison. It was very cool.

I took a close-up of an elderly man (probably younger than I am), and when I went through my pictures I couldn't quite figure out why I took that picture. Today, as I played my digital recorder I realized that I was hearing a saeta, the song sometimes heard during Semana Santa. I don't know much about the saeta, but I think it has a gypsy connection. Anyway, I realized that I took the man's picture because he was singing the saeta. I had seen it on television, and I had hoped to hear it sung in the street at some time in my week in Málaga, so I was thrilled when I heard the man.

Before I forget, I also found pictures that I took of the metal plates--copies of 1978 Spanish newspapers--that were sunk into the Alameda Principal announcing the establishment of democracy in Spain after Franco died and Juan Carlos assumed the throne. Seeing those plates suggested to me what the change from dictatorship to democracy must have meant to the Spanish people. I was touched by seeing those plates.

Apropos of nothing, I saw a sign Cerveceria Vaticano--which seems to mean "Vatican beer store," or something similar. I got a kick out of that. Later I saw a kid wearing a sweatshirt that said, "Blackfoot," which is the name of a Native American tribe in Montana. It didn't seem to have any reference to anything else, so it ranks up there with my all-time favorite sweatshirt saying, which I saw in Tübingen, Germany, "Discount Acupuncture." I was bemused at the idea of going to a discount acupuncturist!

On Saturday morning I spent a small fortune on a taxi to the airport for my Ryanair flight to Barcelona. My driver dropped me off at the security area, but I had to walk quite a distance--I swear it was a quarter mile--to find the counter to check in my baggage. Then I walked that quarter mile back to go through security. The security was not as tight as it is in the States. I have to be patted down because of my artificial knees, but the agent didn't do the really thorough pat down that I get in the States.

The flight was easy. I am a bit vague about how I got from the airport to my hotel, but I think I probably took the train from the airport to the downtowen train station and then got a taxi to my hotel near Las Ramblas.

I wasn't very impressed with my hotel room in the Meson Castilla, though I think the double rooms were more attractive than my single room. In my little room the wardrobe was squeezed next to the left side of the bed, and the nightstand on the right side, where it was hard to reach.

Most of the staff were pleasant enough, but the main receptionist was very cold. I wanted to tell her that she looked like the governor of Washington State, Chris Gregoire, but she didn't look like she was interested in chatting, so i restrained myself.

The first day, I didn't do much except wander around on the Ramblas, try to get my bearings, and find the Plaza de Catalunya. I then bought a two-day ticket for the hop-on/hop-off bus because I'd never done that tour at other times when I've been in Barcelona. In the past I've explored all the wonderful Gaudi buildings, so this time I just looked at them from the bus.

My second day was Sunday. I was really looking forward to going to Mass at the Cathedral and then seeing the Sardana danced in front of it. I dutifully packed my English/Spanish missal with me, but once Mass started it really didn't do me a bit of good, since the Mass was in Catalan. On Easter, there are three Masses listed in the missal with different readings depending on whether the Mass is at dawn, or is one of the later Masses, and I couldn't even figure out which Mass was being said. My missal was pretty much useless.

The cathedral is said to be gothic, but it still had big pillars in the middle so that it wasn't easy to see the altar. Therefore there were television screens at various places around the church. The music was beautiful.

Hasta luego. I'll continue later.

Peg, This is a wondeerful report, Thank you.
Like me, I think you knew how to turn lemons into leamonade.

you are so funny and your humor is becoming more and more intense.. I love your comment

"Most of the staff were pleasant enough, but the main receptionist was very cold. I wanted to tell her that she looked like the governor of Washington State, Chris Gregoire, but she didn't look like she was interested in chatting, so i restrained myself."

A saeta is a flamenco-like a capella religious song of mourning of probably Jewish origin. Used to be sung spontaneous during the processions, especially at night in Semana Santa, but today there are often sung by professionals. Here is wonderful Diana Navarro in the recent Semana Santa in Málaga: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DzA8F6FU_QU

I'm truly enjoying your report, Peg. I love your wit and spirit!

It is amusing to read your comments on Malaga's Semana Santa...Behind each float goes a drummer to help everybody (even over 150 people) walk at unison. In later years many brotherhoods have funded their own bands, or they hire another's, and uniforms are different, sometimes more fanciful than correct. The first time I went on procession, dressed as nazareno, with the big tall capirote, I was 22 months-old. In later years I continued till I came of age to carry the Christ float, I did for some years till my back gave way. My colours are black, being my brotherhood Mena, the one with the Spanish Foreign Legion, of which I proudly am honorary member. I too know the songs lyrics. And I am handsome, of course...

What a great report. I am loving every sentence. Thank you for taking the time to share your experiences

Wonderful report. I am so enjoying it and handsome josele's contribution is delightful.

josele: I remember seeing the Mena cofradia. I have a particularly charming picture of little boy dressed in black holding the hand of a tall Nazareño who is wearing a black gown and captriote and also a white cape.

kimhe: Thanks for the information on the saeta. I didn't know it was of Jewish origin nor that it is a song of mourning, but the sound is certainly very mournful. I didn't do a good job of describing it, but it is unforgettable when you hear it during the processions.

So anyway, there I was at the cathedral understanding about one word in 100, but since I've gone to Mass at least once a week since I was five years old, I had a general idea what was going on. The same could surely not have been the case for the boy who was sitting next to me. He and his friend were wearing rugby t-shirts of the New Zealand "All-Blacks" team. Somehow I came to understand that he was not Catholic, but that his friend was. Presumably he'd come to church to keep his friend company. He must have been thoroughly confused.

His friend got up to give an older woman a seat, which I thought was very sweet. I saw this happen several times on the trains, including at least once when someone got up to give me a seat. I don't think this happens in the States much nowadays, so I was impressed.

After Mass was over and the congregation began streaming out, I was surprised to see a crowd of other people streaming in, pushing their way through the exiting crowds. I decided I might be missing something, so I joined those who were coming in, but soon realized they were just crowding in so that they could get a seat in the center of the church at the next Mass, where the huge pillars wouldn't be in the way and they could be closer to the altar.

As were were going out, there was a young, good-looking man, carrying a motorcycle helmet, who was coming in. Many of the young women greeted him with the two-cheek kiss and many of the young men with a hug. I decided that either he had a lot of friend or he was someone pretty famous. I'm curious about him, but I'll never know who he was.

When I left the church, there was a huge crowd watching people dancing the Sardana, the traditional Catalan dance. As we watched, more people joined in the biggest circle, and two more circles were formed. There were musicians on the steps of the cathedral playing for the dancers. Seeing the Sardana is impressive, considering its meaning for the people of Catalonia. Since General Franco suppressed all things Catalan, the Sardana can be seen as a symbol of Catalan culture. I've seen it before, but it was just as thrilling to see it again, I think because it is an authentic expression of culture. It's not like there's a group of paid performers out there, dancing for money.

After Mass, I went to the Plaza de España, where I understood that I could take the train to Montserrat. I was very insecure about how to arrange the trip. When I got there, I followed a couple of Montserrat signs until I found a desk with information about the trains there.

As I waited in line, these three men, who looked like they might be Greeks or Turks, pushed their way in front of me. The woman at the desk gave me a look which said, "These guys just pushed in front of you. Should we do anything about it?" I gave her a look back which said, "No. It's not a big deal." I got a big kick out of the wordless exchange between us.

She was very helpful, telling from which platform the Montserrat train left and then sending me over to a man in a red jacket to buy the tickets. Sure enough, the three guys managed to push their way ahead of me again. For some reason, I was just amused.

I need to have breakfast. I'll continue later.

As I was chopping strawberries for my bran flakes, I was thinking that one reason I like writing trip reports is that they fix memories that I would otherwise lose. I can come back in future times and remember my experience in somewhat the same way as looking at my album of photos.

Feeling much assured that I would be able to find my way to the appropriate platform early on the following day, I returned to the Plaza de Catalunya to find another hop-on/hop-off bus.

The receptionist (Governor Gregoire) had told me that it would take twenty minutes to walk to/from the Plaza Espanya, but not believing her, I took the subway there, though I'm always apprehensive about taking subways in strange cities. I have to tell myself that there are people of below-average intelligence who take the subway in all these cities, so why can't I do it?

I decided to walk back, though. True to my past experiences when someone tells me it will take 20 minutes, it took about an hour. It was a pleasant walk, along a street, Gran Via, with a park-like strip in the middle of it.

I saw one wonderful sign in a window, which made me chuckle. It said, "liquidación bestial," which looks like it means "bestial liquidation," in English, but the "bestial" part apparently means "enormous" or "very large." For the most part, I couldn't seem to understand the signs in Catalan. It was frustrating, though I think it's possible that the differences between it and Spanish are probably not great if one takes time to learn about them.

When I got to the Plaza Catalunya I found the bus for the blue tour. On the but, I saw a lot more than I hadn't seen in past visits to Barcelona, because I had tended to stay in the central part of town. Of course, not having to walk to all these disparate places was definitely a plus.

The next morning I boarded the train for Montserrat, where I had the experience with the attempted theft of my purse. Near the end of the train trip, I apparently got off one stop early (along with other passengers), so that instead of taking the funicular, I ended up taking the aerial cable way. That was okay with me, but there were people in that cable car that were scared to death.

I had read that there's a hymn which claims that angels carved the serrations in the mountains with golden saws. I liked that explanation much better than the one geologists give. Unfortunately, it was extremely foggy, so that I couldn't see much of those jagged, angel-carved peaks. It was so foggy that even the upper reaches just outside of the church were shrouded in a haze. It made for an interesting photo, though.

I saw a line of people going on one side of the church. Not knowing what was the purpose of this queue. I nevertheless lined up along with a couple hundred other people.

Remember that in the first sentence of this TR, I mentioned the word "disappointments." Well, this was one of them. As we moved along, I saw a sign saying that the boys' choir, Escalonia, was on vacation. Aaargh! I guess I should have known, since this was Eastertide, a logical time for vacation. But I was quite disappointed because hearing Escalonia was really the main reson I went to Montserrat.

I was in that long line for half an hour or forty minutes (not even knowing what I was going to see) when I saw some stairs ahead of me. Oh, no, not stairs! I didn't want to climb those stairs, so I started out the the line; however some of my neighbors talked me into staying. The stairs weren't so bad, but when I reached the top and turned the corner, there was another set. By that time I wasn't about to give up, and I don't think my neighbors would have let me throw in the towel anyway, so I stuck it out.

<<As I was chopping strawberries for my bran flakes, I was thinking that one reason I like writing trip reports is that they fix memories that I would otherwise lose. I can come back in future times and remember my experience in somewhat the same way as looking at my album of photos.>>

This is the same for me Peg. The trip reports are as much for me as for anyone else who may read them.

Still very much enjoying your report.

What a delicious read, Peg, I'm enjoying your trip enormously!

I was in Granada at Easter '09 with Lavici, who posts here occasionally, and we were lucky enough to be at a restaurant on the way to the Albaicin when one of the Semana Santa processions went right past. It was a magical experience and later as we walked back to our lodging, the strains of the music wafted through the city on the night air.

Bokhara: Semana Santa in Málaga has really been an unforgettable experience.

By the way, in the gift shop, I did buy a CD of the boys' music, which is quite beautiful. I also had some of that wonderful Spanish coffee and a pastry. Yum! I was surprised that I didn't gain any weight after all those pastries I ate.

I'm in this long line, I have climbed two sets of stairs, and I finally see the object of all this queuing--La Moreneta (the Black Virgin), the patron saint of Catalonia. The statue is enclosed in a glass case, with only a globe that she is holding outside the case. The general idea is to touch the globe, which takes maybe half a second, but I guess it gives you a connection with the Virgin. I did say a quickie prayer for an intention I pray for every chance I think of it.

When I left that area, I looked for a candle to light. When we were traveling together, my sister Mary and I developed a custom of lighting a candle for our younger sister Kitty, who died too young, so that she would be with us on our travels. I saw some arrays of candles but for some reason wasn't able to light one.

After seeing the Virgin, I went to look at the basilica, which is gorgeous. I was disappointed when I looked at the pictures I took of it because only one was relatively decent, and I had deleted the others.

There is a museum with a collection of ecclesiastical paintings by various famous artists, but having visited every museum in the western world for the past forty years, I gave it a pass. I do regret not seeing the ancient artifacts in the museum, especially the 2000-year-old crocodile mummy.

I have a history of not finishing my trip report, so I'm going to finish this one if it kills me.

My last morning in Barcelona, my alarm didn't go off, for some reason, so I was in a big hurry to get to the train to Madrid for my last night, as I'd bought my ticket online and wasn't sure whether I could use it on a later train. It turned out okay, though.

In Madrid I checked in at Hotel Europa again and then headed out to see the only museum I visited in Spain on this trip. (I'd visited the Prado a couple of times, the Thyssen, and the Reina Sofia on previous trips, so don't think I'm a Philistine!) I was looking forward to visiting the National Archaeological Museum.

Ironically, in 2000 I had stayed across the street from this museum for a month, but didn't think to visit it.

I had read a couple of books about Spanish history, and I found it fascinating, especially the early history--the arrival of the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Visigoths, the Carthaginians, the Romans, and the Moors. I love history, and that of Spain is especially interesting. I really wanted to see artifacts of these times. Most of all I wanted to see the statue known as the Lady of Elche.

So I braved the metro (2 lines), then walked for a while. Excited about seeing the exhibits, I turned the corner leading to the entrance and saw (another aaargh!) that the museum was closed for renovation.

I went back to my hotel and sulked.

The next morning I took a taxi to Atocha, where I caught the bus to Barajas. Easy peasy. I like this lots better than taking the metro, since it goes directly to the airport, and I don't have to change metro lines, hauling my luggage up interminable stairs. It was cheap, too. I think 2 euros.

The flight to Philadelphia was uneventful. As I stood in line at passport control, I saw a sign I've never noticed before. It was a warning about what would happen if you tried to threaten or intimidate a passport control officer. It may have included other airport or TSA employees. Amazing!

I had to pick up my suitcase from the baggage carousel and go through customs, since we were now in the U.S. I am pretty sure it was quick and easy, because I don't remember doing it.

As I walked through the terminal, I saw white wooden rocking chairs distributed along the center of the aisles. What a good idea! You could sit down and rock while you waited. When I began the trip, I had 2 passes for the United lounge, but somewhere along the way, I lost the unused one, so I sat and rocked for a while.

Once I got to Philadelphia, it dawned on me that I had a five-hour layover. As I waited, I noticed that there was an earlier flight to Seattle that I could have taken, but when I asked the customer service people, they said that wasn't possible, because my luggage wouldn't be on that flight.

Turns out they were wrong. When I got to baggage claim in Seattle, my suitcase wasn't on the carousel. It was at the baggage claim office, because it had arrived on an earlier flight--probably the one I'd wanted to take.

Note to self: Don't let those mileage plus reservation people give you bad layovers.

The flight home was filled with junior high students who'd been to Washington, D.C., but there were some empty seats. The flight attendant came by and told me there were three empty seats in the back, and I could stretch out there and get some sleep, which I did.

Actually, there is a good side to this late flight to Seattle. When I was on the train going me to my gate, a Japanese woman who apparently spoke no English, wanted to know if this was the correct terminal. She seemed very apprehensive.She showed me her boarding pass with the letter N on it, and I pointed to the scrolling that identified the gate as N and nodded my head yes. I think I even said "Hai," the way the Japanese do--that's about half the vocabulary that I remember from 2 years in Japan. It felt good to reassure her that she was in the right place.

Then a Mexican woman saw that I was trying to help the Japanese lady because she came to me and indicated that she needed help. She spoke no English, so I told her in Spanish that this was the correct gate, but that her plane for Houston had been delayed for a couple of hours. Then a Mexican man joined us with the same problem. They both had connecting flights that they would miss, and they were panicky. I went to the counter and explained their plight to the representative there and told her that they didn't speak English.

She wasn't very helpful, as she was swamped changing flights for others who had the same problem. Since she was so busy, I told the man and the woman that I would return in half an hour to help them again, and I went off to have something to eat, figuring that I would find Travelers' Aid or someone to help them. When I returned, the problem had been resolved, as they found other people who spoke Spanish and could help them.

Before this happened, I was thoroughly tired of speaking and listening to Spanish because it's tiring to have to struggle to find the right word in a foreign language or to understand someone who's talking fast. But with this experience I was thrilled that I'd been able to use Spanish to try to help these people and to ease their panic, even though someone else finished what I'd started.

I had known that I would arrive in Seattle too late for a flight to Spokane, so after I got my luggage, I called the Red Lion Hotel near SeaTac, and their van came and picked me up. I hereby vow that any time I need a hotel, I will stay in a Red Lion. That bed was amazing! Big soft pillows, comfy mattress, and cotton duvet cover on the comforter. It was so cozy! I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.

When I got home, I thought, "Well, that's done. No more Spain," and I began thinking about going to eastern Germany or Slovenia and Croatia. But then....somebody mentioned Bilbao, and I thought about Cuenca again. I understand that Zamora has a memorable Semana Santa also.

Gosh, so little time, so many trips...

Peg, thanks for persevering to the end of your trip! I completely understand the feeling "so many trips, so little time"

Although the long layovers can be boring, it's better than cutting it too close and not making it!

Are you going to post any pictures? Pretty please--with sugar on it!

Irishface: I'll ask my nephew to come over and show me how to do that. I have some great pics of Semana Santa.

Thanks Peg! Like you, I'm a better starter than completer of JBRs. And sometimes I don't even get started (lol).

I really enjoy your writing - feels as if we're having a chat over a glass of vino. I'm leaning forward on my chair listening to your "little adventures" as you roar with laughter & detail another side trip

I liked reading about Semana Santa so I looked up some videos on u-tube. Wonderful, especially the ones in Malaga. I'm going to Basque Spain in September now I wish I could be there for Easter.

Comments: despite your agonizing over this and that, including sulking, you really did have some wonderful experiences. Especially liked the Catalan Easter events. Reminded me of Easter once in Pisa Cathedral.

Also laughed at your good samaritan acts in the terminal
...realizing how many non-Americans traveling in the U. S. do need a little sympathetic advice. This also applies to bus/subway tourists. Fun report all in all.
Bill in Boston

I loved Semana Santa! This was my second trip to Málaga to experience it. But one thing I realized during this trip is that it's better for me to see new places, rather than visit places I've seen before. Obviously I would have enjoyed hearing Escalonia in Montserrat and exploring the archaeological museum in Madrd. Those were disappointments for me. Also I had wanted to go to Aranjuez, but because I left a day late on account of the Lufthansa strike, I had to cut that out.

When I first went to Barcelona and saw the Sagrada Familia and the many other Gaudi buildings or the Palacio Royal and the Prado in Madrid, these things were all new to me and because of that, especially impressive.

I still like just plain walking in Madrid, Barcelona, and Málaga, but I think I will enjoy visiting places I haven't seen before.

Micheline,

Semana Santa in Andalucía is something very special, and it's much more low-key in the wonderful Basque region.

Other major events up in the Basque region in September. From September 1 to 9 the Euskal Jaiak festival in San Sebastián celebrates all things Basque through food, wine, concerts, performances and sports. Starts on Saturday 1st with Sagardo Eguna (cider day) where some 40-50 of the regions famous sidrerias provide free cider and food in Plaza de la Constitución in the heart of the Parte vieja/Old town. http://www.lacunza.com/events/euskal-jaiak.php

Later in September is the annual film festival, and if you plan on visiting at this time you'll have to book hotel way ahead: http://www.sansebastianfestival.com/in/

Great report Peg. Inspiring to know that you did all these things alone. Going for my first trip to Spain in September with the rest of the TN Trio of Terror so this set the tone for me. Thanks.

I'm hoping you will post your pictures because I loved your report. So many times trips are filled with problems and disappointments, even to a seasoned traveler like yourself, which we try to forget. Your putting it all out there was very refreshing. It felt like you were recounting it to a good friend who would understand and enjoy. Thank you so much!

Peg: Enjoyed your report thoroughly, especially the part where you confessed to sulking. I have done the same, but will never admit it!

It appears that we were in Barcelona last month, the same time as you. We visited Montserrat on Easter Monday. Very foggy/cloudy, then the ceiling lifted enough to allow us views from the St. Joan hermitage. Disappointing to learn that the Escolania boys weren't singing at Salve. Overall, Montserrat was a highpoint of our trip (pun intended).

We witnessed the processions at Barcelona Cathedral on Good Friday evening. Three separate groups came together to meet in the plaza. The beat of the drums and the swaying of the pasos filled me with awe and a little fear. Appreciate your explanations about the Nazarenos. They looked quite ominous to us as darkness began to fall. Does the Holy Thursday pardoning of a prisoner symbolize the release of Barabas in the Passion?

Thanks for taking the time to share with us!

Dave_Ohio,

The release of a prisoner during the Semana Santa in Málaga has nothing to do with Barabas. It dates back to the reign of Carlos III (1759-1788) "when prisoners in Málaga, as a protest against the suspension of Easter week processions due to an epidemic, mutinied and broke open the prison doors in order to take their statue of Jesús Nazareno out onto the streets on their shoulders. Once the image was returned to the temple, they all went back to their cells. News of this reached the king, who bestowed upon the image, called 'Jesus the Wealthy' (Jesús El Rico) since then, the privilege of releasing one prisoner each year."
http://www.entertainmentinspain.com/Esater%20in%20Malaga.htm

A very serious event: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aaFX6qKNoFE&feature=related

Great report, Peg. I have not been to Spain yet but it's on my list of future places. I'm placing a link to your report in my Spain folder.

I think going to the same place for a second or third time makes for an easier and more comfortable trip but there is excitement in visiting someplace new.

Beautifully written report, thanks so much for sharing!

Those hanging cliff houses at Cuenca look amazing! Looking forward to your photos!

Pegontheroad,

I never read trip reports, yours are the only exception! Really enjed this one.

~Liz

https://picasaweb.google.com/109209948473369806893/Spain2012?authkey=Gv1sRgCICWqvOpnrK-LA#5738060709526499954

Dave, when my neighbor girl was looking at my pictures with me, she thought the Nazarenos a little frightening, but it's only in the pictures that there's anything ominous.

What kept the processions from being more dignified or truly solemn was that children kept running out to anyone who carried a lit candle and asking to have candle wax dripped on to the balls of wax they had already collected. Some of the wax balls were baseball-sized. Many children also reached out to shake the hands of those in the processions.

Kimhe: Great video of the processions. With still cameras, of course, one can't show the gentle swaying of the paso or the marching of the legionnaires.

Thanks for sharing your pictures, Peg!

Thank you for sharing the pictures Peg!

I think sometimes we feel some pressure to have perfect vacations. It's not possible of course.

Thank you for a great report.

Wonderful pics Peg & kimhe, thanks for posting them.
Those floats & costumes are extraordinary, aren't they?

Enjoyed your honest report and your beautiful pictures.
I agree about the spookiness in some of them, but happy to see that such cultural traditions are still being richly upheld at a time when many are sadly falling by the wayside either, from lack of participatory interest or money.

You are an intrepid traveller and I admire you for assimilating yourself into the local culture wherever you go. Good for you, and thanks for sharing.

M.