Confessions of a Travel Tyrant; Ten days of Tapas, Wine and Wandering in Spain
Nov 21st, 2005, 02:17 PM
#21
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We finally arrive in Ronda around 3:30, tired and very hungry.
Almost immediately, we see a sign for our hotel, but it pointed in a direction down a one way street with a do not enter sign. Following that, we spend an hour, lost, driving in circles, trying to get back to where we'd seen the sign. The town is much larger now than I remember it being back in 1991.
We break our cardinal rule, #1: Do not miss lunch. By the time we arrive, we are practically screaming at each other, completely irritated. Finally, I insist my mother drive down the wrong way street, make a 12 point turn to get around the corner of an ancient city wall, and double park in front of the hotel. At least we're there. Score one for the Tyrant.
I go inside and find the owner, a nice man who speaks very little English. I explain to him that we'd just spent a harrowing hour, lost, looking for the hotel, and he tells me, "well, the door is open".
HUH? I finally figure out that at the end of the street (in the other direction from where we arrived) is an ancient "puerta" (door) to the city, or rather, a large arch in the city walls though which only a small car could pass. Apparently, this was the way we should have come in to find the hotel. Unfortunately for us, we never passed this "puerta" on our way into town, and even if we had, there were no signs indicating the hotel was that way, nor that we could even drive though it!
The Hotel Jardine de la Muralla, (Calle Esperitu Santi, #13, http://www.jardindelamuralla.com/en/indice.htm). is a darling hotel, much like staying in your rich eccentric aunt's house (if that aunt happened to live in a small Spanish village). We have the "suite" which is a large room, filled with antique furniture, and a view to the garden and hills below. The hotel sits atop the walls on the edge of town, right next to the Church of Santa Esperitu. The gardens of the hotel are stunning and there is a small bouquet of flowers in our bathroom. The room has a large heavy wooden bed and one long pillow.
I ask the owner for another pillow because while I don't mind sharing a bed with my mother, sharing a pillow will just not work. I also have to ask for a remote control to run the heater, but once it gets going the room is toasty.
After checking in, we go in search of something to eat. It's about a 10 minute walk from the hotel to the center of town. Once there, it seems like every single restaurant and bar has a menu in 4 languages posted in the window (never a good sign). We couldn't find anything appealing and wound up buying a bocadillo (sandwich) of scary pink salami. There is a McDonald's here now (right next to the parador), which might have been a better choice at that point, but I just could not bring myself to do it.
Opposite the McDonald's is the tourist office. The woman behind the desk is very nice, gives us a free map of the town, and explains that the highway number has been changed and we were indeed on the correct road the entire time. The road had been re-numbered, but no one bothered to change the maps, or leave the old number in place. We walk around more, check out the inside of the Parador and look at the menu, and admire the gorge. When it begins to rain, we head back to our room for siesta.
Around 8:30 PM, we leave the hotel, walking in search of a restaurant recommendation I had and a place to use the internet. The "new bridge", Ronda's most famous landmark over the deep gorge, is well lit at night and makes for a fabulous photo op. We walk through the shopping district but all shops were closing up tight at exactly 9 PM. We walk quite a long way, only to discover the restaurant was want is closed! Doh! And we never find an internet cafe either.
Ronda does not appear to be a town for tapas, nor is it one that stays open late like Madrid or Sevilla. Maybe it does in the summer, but certainly not a rainy Thursday night in fall. Back in the town center, we settle on dinner at the Hotel Don Miguel right across the plaza from the Parador and right on the edge of the gorge. It turns out to be wonderful, and affordable at around 40 euro total for a nice sit down meal for two. We have a 1/2 btl Torres Coronas (Tempranillo 2003 86 % Tempranillo, 14% Cabernet), mom had lamb chops and I had a fabulous duck breast with a port and prune sauce.
Total Daily Miles 6.4
Almost immediately, we see a sign for our hotel, but it pointed in a direction down a one way street with a do not enter sign. Following that, we spend an hour, lost, driving in circles, trying to get back to where we'd seen the sign. The town is much larger now than I remember it being back in 1991.
We break our cardinal rule, #1: Do not miss lunch. By the time we arrive, we are practically screaming at each other, completely irritated. Finally, I insist my mother drive down the wrong way street, make a 12 point turn to get around the corner of an ancient city wall, and double park in front of the hotel. At least we're there. Score one for the Tyrant.
I go inside and find the owner, a nice man who speaks very little English. I explain to him that we'd just spent a harrowing hour, lost, looking for the hotel, and he tells me, "well, the door is open".
HUH? I finally figure out that at the end of the street (in the other direction from where we arrived) is an ancient "puerta" (door) to the city, or rather, a large arch in the city walls though which only a small car could pass. Apparently, this was the way we should have come in to find the hotel. Unfortunately for us, we never passed this "puerta" on our way into town, and even if we had, there were no signs indicating the hotel was that way, nor that we could even drive though it!
The Hotel Jardine de la Muralla, (Calle Esperitu Santi, #13, http://www.jardindelamuralla.com/en/indice.htm). is a darling hotel, much like staying in your rich eccentric aunt's house (if that aunt happened to live in a small Spanish village). We have the "suite" which is a large room, filled with antique furniture, and a view to the garden and hills below. The hotel sits atop the walls on the edge of town, right next to the Church of Santa Esperitu. The gardens of the hotel are stunning and there is a small bouquet of flowers in our bathroom. The room has a large heavy wooden bed and one long pillow.
I ask the owner for another pillow because while I don't mind sharing a bed with my mother, sharing a pillow will just not work. I also have to ask for a remote control to run the heater, but once it gets going the room is toasty.
After checking in, we go in search of something to eat. It's about a 10 minute walk from the hotel to the center of town. Once there, it seems like every single restaurant and bar has a menu in 4 languages posted in the window (never a good sign). We couldn't find anything appealing and wound up buying a bocadillo (sandwich) of scary pink salami. There is a McDonald's here now (right next to the parador), which might have been a better choice at that point, but I just could not bring myself to do it.
Opposite the McDonald's is the tourist office. The woman behind the desk is very nice, gives us a free map of the town, and explains that the highway number has been changed and we were indeed on the correct road the entire time. The road had been re-numbered, but no one bothered to change the maps, or leave the old number in place. We walk around more, check out the inside of the Parador and look at the menu, and admire the gorge. When it begins to rain, we head back to our room for siesta.
Around 8:30 PM, we leave the hotel, walking in search of a restaurant recommendation I had and a place to use the internet. The "new bridge", Ronda's most famous landmark over the deep gorge, is well lit at night and makes for a fabulous photo op. We walk through the shopping district but all shops were closing up tight at exactly 9 PM. We walk quite a long way, only to discover the restaurant was want is closed! Doh! And we never find an internet cafe either.
Ronda does not appear to be a town for tapas, nor is it one that stays open late like Madrid or Sevilla. Maybe it does in the summer, but certainly not a rainy Thursday night in fall. Back in the town center, we settle on dinner at the Hotel Don Miguel right across the plaza from the Parador and right on the edge of the gorge. It turns out to be wonderful, and affordable at around 40 euro total for a nice sit down meal for two. We have a 1/2 btl Torres Coronas (Tempranillo 2003 86 % Tempranillo, 14% Cabernet), mom had lamb chops and I had a fabulous duck breast with a port and prune sauce.
Total Daily Miles 6.4
Nov 21st, 2005, 02:31 PM
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<b>Day 7
Ronda to Puerta Santa Maria (via Grazelema, Arcos de la Frontera, and Cadiz)</b>
In the morning we drive from Ronda to Grazelema. The 35 kilometer trip was about an hour's drive on narrow winding road through olive groves. Grazelema sits sheltered in the shadow of craggy mountains and is a tiny town of whitewashed buildings with terracotta tiled roofs.
Once in town, we stop in the main plaza for coffee and then walk around. It was very quiet and cute, though probably sometimes on the tour bus route because there are parking lots on the edge of town with large spaces for busses. We enjoy sitting in the main square, sipping our café con leche, and watching the ubiquitous group of older men in cardigan sweaters and caps stand around gossiping and staring at the few tourists walking by. On the edge of the main square sits and ancient public water fountain with four different funny faces spouting water into a trough.
As I walk back to the car, I notice a little porch covered with colorful pots filled with flowers, two caged canaries, and a beautiful, long haired, Siamese cat. I stop to take a picture and the elderly women in the house comes outside to chat. She tells me the cat's name is Sofia and she found her as a kitten. Shortly after, we're on the road again, headed to Arcos de la Frontera.
Ronda to Puerta Santa Maria (via Grazelema, Arcos de la Frontera, and Cadiz)</b>
In the morning we drive from Ronda to Grazelema. The 35 kilometer trip was about an hour's drive on narrow winding road through olive groves. Grazelema sits sheltered in the shadow of craggy mountains and is a tiny town of whitewashed buildings with terracotta tiled roofs.
Once in town, we stop in the main plaza for coffee and then walk around. It was very quiet and cute, though probably sometimes on the tour bus route because there are parking lots on the edge of town with large spaces for busses. We enjoy sitting in the main square, sipping our café con leche, and watching the ubiquitous group of older men in cardigan sweaters and caps stand around gossiping and staring at the few tourists walking by. On the edge of the main square sits and ancient public water fountain with four different funny faces spouting water into a trough.
As I walk back to the car, I notice a little porch covered with colorful pots filled with flowers, two caged canaries, and a beautiful, long haired, Siamese cat. I stop to take a picture and the elderly women in the house comes outside to chat. She tells me the cat's name is Sofia and she found her as a kitten. Shortly after, we're on the road again, headed to Arcos de la Frontera.
Nov 21st, 2005, 02:31 PM
#23
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<b>Sometimes it's a mistake to search out your past. Sometimes memories are best left alone.</b>
In 1991, when my husband and I lived in Spain, we spent a week in Andalucia during Semana Santa. Both of us have an idillic vision of that week; women in mantillas, processions of purple hooded penitents carrying heavy church icons slowly though the streets, eating seafood by the pound on the coast, and an exhilarating, but stupid "run with the bull" in Arcos de la Frontera. Yes, that was "bull" not "bulls" plural, as the town was way too small to have more than one bull run down its narrow streets. It was stupid because I realized almost too late that it was incredibly dangerous to be standing in a barricaded square waiting for a large black bull with 3 foot horns to charge down the street. I leapt over the barricade with moments to spare and a good friend wound up covered in the blood of the man standing next to him who was gored.
As traumatic as the run with the bull was, I was determined to see if I could find where we had been. I remembered the town as charming. It still is, but it has also grown significantly in the last 14 years. We parked in public underground garage in the main square at the bottom of the hill and walked up into the old town. Unfortunately, it's not as I remember it and absolutely none if it seems familiar. We walk around, admire the view and the winding streets instead, and lunch at a nice little local restaurant called Hostal San Marcos.
Since it was getting late in the day, we drive straight to our next night's stop, Puerta Santa Maria. This stop was another attempt on my part to recreate a past experience. During that fantastic week in '91, we had an amazing experience where a Spanish friend brought us to the sea and we bought seafood by the pound in an open air restaurant. In '99 when were were back in Spain, we'd spent a frustrating day trying to retrace our steps to no avail. This time I was determined and after a little research online figured that Puerto Santa Maria was the place.
We arrive just in time for siesta and to find everything closed (tourist office, castle, sherry bodegas, internet cafe, cathedral, etc). We are also too late to take the ferry trip over to Cadiz. Frustrated, we drive the 20 minutes over a bridge to Cadiz in search of a tapas bar I'd read about which also turns out to be closed. So instead, we walk around during the nightly paseo, and stop at an internet place where I have to feed coins into a machine to get the computer to stay online.
Back in Puerto Santa Maria we rest in the hotel before dinner. The Hotel Casa Del Regidor has 2 stars ( http://www.hotelcasadelregidor.com/ Ribera del Rio, 30) and sits one block in from the water. There's very little street parking, but an underground lot 3 blocks away gives a discount to hotel guests.
The room has a nice bathroom and what turns out to be the best hairdryer of the trip. There are two single beds and a sitting area that looks out onto central courtyard. In terms of decor, it's basic, but the room is good sized, and has CNN on the TV. It's also the least expensive hotel of the tripat $74 including tax and overnight parking in the garage.
For diner we eat at the famous Romerijo which is just two blocks from the hotel. This place does sell seafood by the pound, both eat in and to go. You can order it boiled or fried. Most of the other restaurants along the water seemed to be closed for the season. We order fried calamari and steamed clams with garlic. Both are good, but we're underwhelmed and a bit disappointed by the experience.
Day 7 total miles 5.46
In 1991, when my husband and I lived in Spain, we spent a week in Andalucia during Semana Santa. Both of us have an idillic vision of that week; women in mantillas, processions of purple hooded penitents carrying heavy church icons slowly though the streets, eating seafood by the pound on the coast, and an exhilarating, but stupid "run with the bull" in Arcos de la Frontera. Yes, that was "bull" not "bulls" plural, as the town was way too small to have more than one bull run down its narrow streets. It was stupid because I realized almost too late that it was incredibly dangerous to be standing in a barricaded square waiting for a large black bull with 3 foot horns to charge down the street. I leapt over the barricade with moments to spare and a good friend wound up covered in the blood of the man standing next to him who was gored.
As traumatic as the run with the bull was, I was determined to see if I could find where we had been. I remembered the town as charming. It still is, but it has also grown significantly in the last 14 years. We parked in public underground garage in the main square at the bottom of the hill and walked up into the old town. Unfortunately, it's not as I remember it and absolutely none if it seems familiar. We walk around, admire the view and the winding streets instead, and lunch at a nice little local restaurant called Hostal San Marcos.
Since it was getting late in the day, we drive straight to our next night's stop, Puerta Santa Maria. This stop was another attempt on my part to recreate a past experience. During that fantastic week in '91, we had an amazing experience where a Spanish friend brought us to the sea and we bought seafood by the pound in an open air restaurant. In '99 when were were back in Spain, we'd spent a frustrating day trying to retrace our steps to no avail. This time I was determined and after a little research online figured that Puerto Santa Maria was the place.
We arrive just in time for siesta and to find everything closed (tourist office, castle, sherry bodegas, internet cafe, cathedral, etc). We are also too late to take the ferry trip over to Cadiz. Frustrated, we drive the 20 minutes over a bridge to Cadiz in search of a tapas bar I'd read about which also turns out to be closed. So instead, we walk around during the nightly paseo, and stop at an internet place where I have to feed coins into a machine to get the computer to stay online.
Back in Puerto Santa Maria we rest in the hotel before dinner. The Hotel Casa Del Regidor has 2 stars ( http://www.hotelcasadelregidor.com/ Ribera del Rio, 30) and sits one block in from the water. There's very little street parking, but an underground lot 3 blocks away gives a discount to hotel guests.
The room has a nice bathroom and what turns out to be the best hairdryer of the trip. There are two single beds and a sitting area that looks out onto central courtyard. In terms of decor, it's basic, but the room is good sized, and has CNN on the TV. It's also the least expensive hotel of the tripat $74 including tax and overnight parking in the garage.
For diner we eat at the famous Romerijo which is just two blocks from the hotel. This place does sell seafood by the pound, both eat in and to go. You can order it boiled or fried. Most of the other restaurants along the water seemed to be closed for the season. We order fried calamari and steamed clams with garlic. Both are good, but we're underwhelmed and a bit disappointed by the experience.
Day 7 total miles 5.46
Nov 21st, 2005, 06:18 PM
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Kristina,
Thanks for the lovely well documented report about the trip with your Mom. I'll definitely save it to take along with me on my next trip to Spain. Great insights!
Many good ideas about general trip planning here too. Sounds like a good trip so far and hope it continues that way.
Thanks for the lovely well documented report about the trip with your Mom. I'll definitely save it to take along with me on my next trip to Spain. Great insights!
Many good ideas about general trip planning here too. Sounds like a good trip so far and hope it continues that way.
Nov 22nd, 2005, 07:37 AM
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<b>Day 8
Puerta Santa Maria to Córdoba</b>
In the morning, we leave Puerta Santa Maria and drive to Córdoba without stopping. We arrive, and start to follow the signs to get to the Hotel Maimonedes, which I know to be right next to the Mezquita. I know if we follow the signs to the Mezquita, we should be able to find it by default.
We drive in circles, searching for the entrance to the old part of town, or failing that, the bridge that listed on my map (which later we discover to be closed!). At one point, we turn down a street which has a sign with the hotel name on it and an arrow. We get to end of the street, only to discover that it's one way and extremely narrow. We have to back up about a block, past the waiting drivers of horse drawn carriages, who stare at us like, "look at those stupid American women!"
We wind our way further and further toward the center of town, down streets crowded with tourists and police directing traffic. We stop, and say to the policeman, "Hotel Maimonedes?" and he motions us past a barricade and up a street past towering ancient walls. We think we're not supposed to be on this road, but up ahead we see the hotel. It has a parking garage below, with a sigh that says "full". I go inside, and the desk clerk tells me to take the car down anyway. We do, and luckily squeeze into a spot, determined not to move the car again until tomorrow morning.
It's only noon, but they have a room for us and allow us to check in (Hotel Maimonedes, 3 stars, Calle Torrijos, 4, www.eurostarshotels.com). I'd requested a room with a view of the Mezquita, and I don't think we could have done any better. Our room, on the third floor, looks right out on to the outer corner of the Mezquita, so we have a view down two of the streets bordering it. It's so close that if my arms were longer I could almost reach out and touch the walls.
The room itself, is perfectly fine, albeit plain, with two twin beds and a decent bathroom. My only complaint would be that the corridors are not carpeted and can get a little loud with slamming doors, heels on tile, and a small child who insists on screaming and running up and down the hall while we try to nap mid-afternoon.
Puerta Santa Maria to Córdoba</b>
In the morning, we leave Puerta Santa Maria and drive to Córdoba without stopping. We arrive, and start to follow the signs to get to the Hotel Maimonedes, which I know to be right next to the Mezquita. I know if we follow the signs to the Mezquita, we should be able to find it by default.
We drive in circles, searching for the entrance to the old part of town, or failing that, the bridge that listed on my map (which later we discover to be closed!). At one point, we turn down a street which has a sign with the hotel name on it and an arrow. We get to end of the street, only to discover that it's one way and extremely narrow. We have to back up about a block, past the waiting drivers of horse drawn carriages, who stare at us like, "look at those stupid American women!"
We wind our way further and further toward the center of town, down streets crowded with tourists and police directing traffic. We stop, and say to the policeman, "Hotel Maimonedes?" and he motions us past a barricade and up a street past towering ancient walls. We think we're not supposed to be on this road, but up ahead we see the hotel. It has a parking garage below, with a sigh that says "full". I go inside, and the desk clerk tells me to take the car down anyway. We do, and luckily squeeze into a spot, determined not to move the car again until tomorrow morning.
It's only noon, but they have a room for us and allow us to check in (Hotel Maimonedes, 3 stars, Calle Torrijos, 4, www.eurostarshotels.com). I'd requested a room with a view of the Mezquita, and I don't think we could have done any better. Our room, on the third floor, looks right out on to the outer corner of the Mezquita, so we have a view down two of the streets bordering it. It's so close that if my arms were longer I could almost reach out and touch the walls.
The room itself, is perfectly fine, albeit plain, with two twin beds and a decent bathroom. My only complaint would be that the corridors are not carpeted and can get a little loud with slamming doors, heels on tile, and a small child who insists on screaming and running up and down the hall while we try to nap mid-afternoon.
Nov 22nd, 2005, 07:49 AM
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Hi Kristina-
Just letting you know that I've really enjoyed your report- and the new title works!
Good reading for me, especially since my mom and I are both tryrants and now we're going on a similar trip-diffferent country!
Thanks for coming back to the board with this!
Just letting you know that I've really enjoyed your report- and the new title works!
Good reading for me, especially since my mom and I are both tryrants and now we're going on a similar trip-diffferent country!
Thanks for coming back to the board with this!
Nov 22nd, 2005, 09:58 AM
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Kristina: You're taking me back to a trip with my husband a few years ago. We had a rental car which we shared with Swedish relatives ( a married couple). At the time, it was one of our most stressful driving experiences, but looking back, it was actually pretty hilarious. The wife was a nervous Nelly, always asking my ultra-cautious husband to slow down when he was driving, and insisting that the other 3 of us each hold maps so we wouldn't make any mistakes, which of course, we were constantly doing. Your experience in Ronda was similar to one we had in Toledo, driving in circles, having to back up in a narrow space, and parking in a packed basement garage. One of our hotel parking lots was accessed by an elevator that you had to drive onto! It was a nightmare driving in those ancient towns in Spain, worse than any other European country, in my opinion. But so worth it! Keep up the marvelous reporting, I'm loving it...
Nov 22nd, 2005, 07:57 PM
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Kristina,
Thanks so much for your report. (And yes, I much prefer this title too). Could you tell me more about Cadiz? We haven't been there yet, but love flamenco, Cameron (who's from there) and have thought about going. How would you compare it to Seville or other places in Andalucia?
Thanks so much for your report. (And yes, I much prefer this title too). Could you tell me more about Cadiz? We haven't been there yet, but love flamenco, Cameron (who's from there) and have thought about going. How would you compare it to Seville or other places in Andalucia?
Nov 23rd, 2005, 05:19 AM
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Artlover-
Cadiz is an interesting port town which sits on a spit of land surrounded on three sides by water. As far as comparing it to Sevilla, I could see myself easily spending a lot of time in Sevilla, while Cadiz would probably only hold my interest for a day or two. Then again, maybe I'm just not aware of all it has to offer. On the other hand, Sevilla, and the Pueblos Blancos of Andalucia, have a much higher "charm factor".
Dabodin-I think everyone who drives in Spain has stories like ours. I knew it going in (which is why we limited the car to 3 days) but it's still frustrating. I've seen those garage elevators, but fortunately never had to use them.
Cadiz is an interesting port town which sits on a spit of land surrounded on three sides by water. As far as comparing it to Sevilla, I could see myself easily spending a lot of time in Sevilla, while Cadiz would probably only hold my interest for a day or two. Then again, maybe I'm just not aware of all it has to offer. On the other hand, Sevilla, and the Pueblos Blancos of Andalucia, have a much higher "charm factor".
Dabodin-I think everyone who drives in Spain has stories like ours. I knew it going in (which is why we limited the car to 3 days) but it's still frustrating. I've seen those garage elevators, but fortunately never had to use them.
Nov 23rd, 2005, 08:35 AM
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This is such a good trip report. I came into this kind of late- could someone tell me, or at least give me a hint, as to the original name of the post that was said to be so offensive? I only saw this thread named as the trip tyrant. I'm curious.
Thanks!
Thanks!
Nov 23rd, 2005, 09:01 AM
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<b>Day 8
"anything feels good after a glass of Rioja"</b>
We leave the hotel and go in search of the tourist office so we can get a map of town. The hotel has a free one, but it's not very good and because Cordoba is like every other Spanish city (a warren-like maze of streets), we hope to find a better map. After asking at the front desk where to go, we set off in search. We walk, and walk and walk and can't find one of the three offices shown on the map. We stop and ask, and still can't find one.
Frustrated, we decide a snack and a glass of wine is in order and stop in a small plaza in an outdoor café. I order two glasses of <i>vino tinto</i> and we try to decide what to eat. The wine comes and it's the color of purple Welch's grape juice, icy cold, and absolutely undrinkable. I call over the waiter and ask if they have any other selections, anything better. He shrugs and says no and I ask for the check.
We keep walking and stop at a cute little restaurant called <i>Taberna Las Faroles</i> (Calle Velásquez Bosco, 1). It has tables in a central courtard covered in tiles, potted plants and cages filled with singing canaries. We love it immediately. We look at the menu and cautiously order another two glasses of wine. I specifically ask the waiter if the wine is good and he brings the bottle to the table and opens it in front of us. It's wonderful and I instantly relax and say, "anything feels good after a glass of Rioja". We order from a menu which allows us to select from different portion sizes; fried anchovies, eggplant which comes batter dipped in egg with a sweet and sour sauce, pork croquetas, and chunks of cochinillo (roasted pork) served on the bone, with potatoes and bits of crispy fried garlic. It's all good and we sit rested and ready to take on more sightseeing.
"anything feels good after a glass of Rioja"</b>
We leave the hotel and go in search of the tourist office so we can get a map of town. The hotel has a free one, but it's not very good and because Cordoba is like every other Spanish city (a warren-like maze of streets), we hope to find a better map. After asking at the front desk where to go, we set off in search. We walk, and walk and walk and can't find one of the three offices shown on the map. We stop and ask, and still can't find one.
Frustrated, we decide a snack and a glass of wine is in order and stop in a small plaza in an outdoor café. I order two glasses of <i>vino tinto</i> and we try to decide what to eat. The wine comes and it's the color of purple Welch's grape juice, icy cold, and absolutely undrinkable. I call over the waiter and ask if they have any other selections, anything better. He shrugs and says no and I ask for the check.
We keep walking and stop at a cute little restaurant called <i>Taberna Las Faroles</i> (Calle Velásquez Bosco, 1). It has tables in a central courtard covered in tiles, potted plants and cages filled with singing canaries. We love it immediately. We look at the menu and cautiously order another two glasses of wine. I specifically ask the waiter if the wine is good and he brings the bottle to the table and opens it in front of us. It's wonderful and I instantly relax and say, "anything feels good after a glass of Rioja". We order from a menu which allows us to select from different portion sizes; fried anchovies, eggplant which comes batter dipped in egg with a sweet and sour sauce, pork croquetas, and chunks of cochinillo (roasted pork) served on the bone, with potatoes and bits of crispy fried garlic. It's all good and we sit rested and ready to take on more sightseeing.
Nov 23rd, 2005, 10:42 AM
#39
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Kristina,
thanks for the feedback on Cadiz
if it's any consolation, we too couldn't find the tourist office in Cordoba (though it didn't bother me as much as DH--i'm much less of a travel tyrant than you too--though i adore planning, but i like getting lost and am good at it LOL)
thanks for the feedback on Cadiz
if it's any consolation, we too couldn't find the tourist office in Cordoba (though it didn't bother me as much as DH--i'm much less of a travel tyrant than you too--though i adore planning, but i like getting lost and am good at it LOL)
Nov 23rd, 2005, 01:24 PM
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After lunch we head to the Mezquita. There is an 8 euro per person entrance fee and it's well worth it. The Mezquita is a huge mosque turned cathedral surrounded by fortified walls. I've never seen anything like it, this blending of Islam and Catholicism. Usually, it seems that when one religion builds a new structure, they just tear down the original and built on top, but this time they incorporated the entire structure of the existing mosque into the church.
We walk through the large courtyard filled with orange trees and enter the darkened church. There are over 800 columns topped by red and while striped Moorish arches. It's absolutely enormous and we walk around, overwhelmed. In the center of the structure is the baroque (I think) church, complete with two massive pipe organs and ornately carved wooden choir chairs.
From the Mezquita we walk into the barrio, looking for the synagogue. This is one of only three surviving original synagogues in Spain. We find it, and it's fairly empty save for some ornate carving on the walls and an interesting women's gallery on the second floor.
What would our day be without ice cream? So, of course, we stop, buy a couple of scoops and sit on the steps of the Mezquita wall across from our hotel. We people-watch for a while, scoping out the tourists, the local woman walking a strange, dreadlocked dog, and the gypsy women, begging, babies in tow.
Finally, we decide to give the tourist office one more try and walk down the street from our hotel, where we're told it's located. We see a massive, ancient door, and no sign indicating that that's where the tourist office would be, but at 5 PM the door opens, and there it is. I mention to the girl working inside that it would be nice if there was a sign, and she sighs and agrees. It seems to be a city planning issue.
For dinner we go to <i>El Caballo Rojo</i> (Calle Cardenal Herrero 28), which was highly recommended, and happens to be just steps from the door of our hotel. Earlier in the day, we'd gone inside, checked out the menu and made a reservation for 9 PM. When we arrived, we were promply seated and given 2 glasses of chilled <i>fino</i> sherry (which were on the check, but cheap) and a plate with 4 potato croquetas. The dining room is upstairs from the bar and café area and is elegantly decorated.
I order duck pate with pumpkin and a Pedro Jimenez sherry sauce for us to share as an appetizer. It turns out to be small slices of foie gras, seared black in some places, but very good anyway. I order their famous Oxtail for my main course and my mother orders Wild Boar with sweet herb sauce. Both are very good. We share a 1/2 bottle Cune Rioja Crianza 2002 and aside of not offering us a wine list, the service is excellent. Dessert was a mixed selection off the dessert cart, and unmemorable. The customers appear to be mostly Spaniards, though I do think this place is popular with tourists as well. Dinner came to 70 euro total.
We walk through the large courtyard filled with orange trees and enter the darkened church. There are over 800 columns topped by red and while striped Moorish arches. It's absolutely enormous and we walk around, overwhelmed. In the center of the structure is the baroque (I think) church, complete with two massive pipe organs and ornately carved wooden choir chairs.
From the Mezquita we walk into the barrio, looking for the synagogue. This is one of only three surviving original synagogues in Spain. We find it, and it's fairly empty save for some ornate carving on the walls and an interesting women's gallery on the second floor.
What would our day be without ice cream? So, of course, we stop, buy a couple of scoops and sit on the steps of the Mezquita wall across from our hotel. We people-watch for a while, scoping out the tourists, the local woman walking a strange, dreadlocked dog, and the gypsy women, begging, babies in tow.
Finally, we decide to give the tourist office one more try and walk down the street from our hotel, where we're told it's located. We see a massive, ancient door, and no sign indicating that that's where the tourist office would be, but at 5 PM the door opens, and there it is. I mention to the girl working inside that it would be nice if there was a sign, and she sighs and agrees. It seems to be a city planning issue.
For dinner we go to <i>El Caballo Rojo</i> (Calle Cardenal Herrero 28), which was highly recommended, and happens to be just steps from the door of our hotel. Earlier in the day, we'd gone inside, checked out the menu and made a reservation for 9 PM. When we arrived, we were promply seated and given 2 glasses of chilled <i>fino</i> sherry (which were on the check, but cheap) and a plate with 4 potato croquetas. The dining room is upstairs from the bar and café area and is elegantly decorated.
I order duck pate with pumpkin and a Pedro Jimenez sherry sauce for us to share as an appetizer. It turns out to be small slices of foie gras, seared black in some places, but very good anyway. I order their famous Oxtail for my main course and my mother orders Wild Boar with sweet herb sauce. Both are very good. We share a 1/2 bottle Cune Rioja Crianza 2002 and aside of not offering us a wine list, the service is excellent. Dessert was a mixed selection off the dessert cart, and unmemorable. The customers appear to be mostly Spaniards, though I do think this place is popular with tourists as well. Dinner came to 70 euro total.
