By Ralph Waldo Emerson
La Boqueria Market, Barcelona, Spain
We are in Granada now, a city that always had sort of a magical ring. “Welcome to the Monumental Complex of the Alhambra and the Generalife”. That’s what the brochure reads we picked up at the gate. Certainly “monumental” and “complex” are accurate terms to describe this maze of towers, palaces, windows, arches, fountains, intricate water channels and gardens.
From 1237 to 1273 Muhammad I, founder of the Nasrid Dynasty, installed his Court on the Hill of Sabika and started construction of the Alhambra. Since that time, a long line of Rulers, Sultans, Caliphs, Catholic Monarchs and Kings continued building. Later, in 1923, any number of academicians and archaeologists began with its restoration and in 1984, Alhambra was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Apparently the word got out because around 7,000 people visit every day. Even reservations online were booked two days in advance, and that was in the off-season. We stood in line in the darkness of 6:30 AM in the hopes of getting some of the 2,000 first-come first-served tickets that are sold each day at 8 o’clock.
I love analogies. If I were to make one up for Alhambra, try to imagine all the chocolate factories you can name; Hershey, Lindt & Sprüngli, Valhrona, Neuhaus, Leonidas and Godiva, and put them all under one roof. Now visit this complex of five or more chocolate factories on the same day and taste as much chocolate as you want from each one. In other words, La Alhambra is overwhelming.
No one can deny the amazing workmanship, the incredible art, the millions of hours of labor it took to design and build and restore La Alhambra from 1237 to 1936 when most of the restoration was completed, a monumental task which is in fact, never finished.
Following our march route given to us on our entry ticket, (There are certain parts of the complex where entry is controlled by time.), we entered at about 8:15 AM and left just after 1 o’clock with the feeling we had seen most of it. In the end, the Godiva chocolate tasted just about the same as the Lindt & Sprüngli or the Hershey—or was that Leonidas?
I have to say that after wandering through the “Monumental Complex of the Alhambra and the Generalife”, I was impressed by its sheer size and somewhat underwhelmed by its complexity. But that’s just me on that day. Perhaps, having seen so many incredible castles, churches, cathedrals and palaces in the past two months, I am becoming a little jaded.
The overall feeling is that if all the gold and silver and man-hours that have been spent on castles, churches, cathedrals and palaces by the many Rulers, Sultans, Catholic Monarchs, Kings and Dictators in the past 2,000 years could be added up, the entire national debts of England, Germany, Belgium, France, Portugal, Spain, Greece and Switzerland, (if they have one), could be paid off with change. We are the ones now who get to enjoy these monuments of societies past.
Hopefully the pictures here will give you a glimpse of the incredible Alhambra, but if you really want to see it as we did, you’ll need to get in line with the other 6,999 people that come everyday. Bring your camera and some good walking shoes.
As for us, it’s time to clear our heads and point The Turtle V towards a beach on the Mediterranean…..
Having seen the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos fortress and the Cathedral of Córdoba, we realized that there was much more to see in Córdova than we had time for in one day. Abandoning the dusty, noisy overpriced campground, (€32), El Brillante Municipal RV Park, we moved to a safe parking area with other travelers for only €11 for 24 hours and literally a 5 min. walk from downtown, giving us a chance to see a little more of this historic Spanish city.
In the morning, we strolled along the riverfront to see the old Roman bridge and the Puerta del Puente. From the top of the fortress tower the day before, we had seen the Royal Stables of Córdoba, commissioned by Philip II in the sixteenth century. Grouping together the best stallions and mares of the land bordering the Guadalquivir river it was the beginning of the breed of the Andalusian horse, officially called Spanish Purebred.
Walking by the stables, we saw an announcement for an equestrian show called Pasión Y Duende del Caballo Andaluz, (The Passion and Spirit of the Andalusian Horse), and it was just about to start. Without getting into too much of the history of the Andalusian Horse, today it is apparently bred especially for concourses and equestrian competitions. We had never seen such an amazing display of high-stepping gates, backwards, sideways, crossovers,—one big stallion even sprang straight up in the air from a standstill position, all four hooves being over two feet off the ground. Another display was a beautiful Flamenco dancer twirling around a trained Andalusian, and you could swear the horse was listening to the music and keeping with the rhythm.
Watching these magnificent animals perform and realizing just exactly how many amazing things we do with the horse; pleasure riding, plowing, pulling, racing, cattle roping; I could better understand my mother’s passion, once an accomplished rodeo horsewoman and a city girl at that. She would go to the stables after school and shovel out stalls at the Kings Beach stables in San Francisco for riding credit.
After a wonderful relaxing soak in four different pools including a salt floating pool, a Hammam (steam bath) and a massage at the Baños Árabes de Córdoba, (sorry, no photos allowed) there was nothing else to do by find a cute café and enjoy a couple of tapas and some good Spanish wine. We had “done” Córdoba and ended Monika’s fun birthday celebrations.
From the top of the fortress tower the day before, we had seen the Royal Stables of Cordoba.
We had never seen such an amazing display of high-stepping gates, backwards, sideways and crossovers.
One big stallion even sprang straight up in the air from a standstill position, all four hooves being over two feet off the ground.
As a beautiful Flamenco dancer twirled about, the horse seemed to be listening to the music and having a good time keeping with the rhythm.
The Andalusian Horse, also called Spanish Purebred, is truly one of the most magnificent animals of its kind.
The Puerta del Puente, (Gate of the Bridge) had been nicely restored.
Some of the arches on the Roman Bridge are still part of the original construction from the early 1st century BC.
The narrow streets of Córdoba invite exploring.
After a wonderful relaxing soak, steam bath and massage at the Baños Árabes de Códoba, there was nothing else to do by find a cute café and enjoy a couple of tapas and some good Spanish wine.
Arriving in the City of Córdoba, we basically had two goals. First was to take a quick look at the famous Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos fortress and take a peak inside the Cathedrál de Cordoba, and then, what was actually supposed to be part of Monika’s birthday celebration, we were planning to go to the famous Baños Árabes de Córdoba to soak in the relaxing thermal and saltwater pools, take a steam bath and get a massage.
So much for making plans. First of all, you cannot take a quick look at the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos fortress. In early medieval times, the site was occupied by a Visigoth fortress. When the Visigoths fell to the Umayyad conquest of Hispania, the emir of the Umayyad Caliphate in Damascus rebuilt the structure. Then, in 1328, Alfonso XI of Castile began building the present day structure on part of the site for the old fortress and that is why it’s probably called the Palace of the Christian Kings now.
It takes a couple of hours just to walk around all the rooms, one which is filled with huge and intricate Roman mosaics found in the city, Arabic baths, towers and terraces including the spectacular gardens with their reflecting pools, statues and inlaid rock work. From the top of the tower, reached by Gary’s favorite progressively diminishing circular chicken ladder steps, we could see the Cathedral tower and the Royal Equestrian Stables, now home to the beautiful Andalusian horses.
After a relaxing lunch stop in the gardens we continued on to the Mosque-Cathedral, also called Mezquita, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. That was almost beyond belief. Following the Islamic invasion of Córdoba, the dominating Muslims proceeded to demolish the martyr’s Church of St. Vincent, and in the year 785, began the construction of a Mosque, a building that would come to be considered the most important sanctuary of Western Islam in a time when Córdoba was the capital of Al-Andalus, a territory extending as far north as the Duero River. It went through four different expansion phases within two centuries.
When King Ferdinand III, called El Santo, (The Saint), reconquered Córdoba in 1236 and the territory became once again Christian, the mosque and minaret were consecrated back to a Christian church. Instead of tearing down this beautiful mosque and minaret, the architects of that time incorporated the existing building, adding a chapel in the center.
As we wandered around this sanctuary marveling the intricately carved ceilings, incredible mosaic tiles and the forest of interlocking arches and pillars, it was hard to believe that we were actually in a Cathedral. With all two dozen ornately decorated chapels along the outer walls, the main halls are an interesting mixture of Arabic and Roman architecture. The Royal Chapel near the center stands out for its Mudejár plaster works and holds the remains of Kings Ferdinand IV and Alfonzo XI.
The central chapel is an ingenious integration of the caliph structures within the Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque creations. When we entered this “chapel” we were shocked. This was a cathedral within a cathedral with ceilings reaching high to heaven. Unbelievable.
King Ferdinand III re-conquered Córdoba in 1236 and the territory became Christian again.
Gary’s favorite progressively diminishing circular chicken ladder steps to reach the top of the tower.
From the top of the tower we could see the cathedral tower, once a minaret, and all of Córdoba.
After a relaxing lunch stop in the gardens at the Alcázar we continued on to the Mezquita (Cathedral).
The spectacular gardens with their reflecting pools, statues and inlaid rock work could take hours to explore.
From the top of the watchtower we could see the cathedral bell tower, once a minaret.
The interior of the Mezquita (Cathedral) is a forest of arches and marble pillars.
Everywhere we turned there were intricately carved arches and ceilings.
The dome above the main “chapel” was awe inspiring.
The Royal Chapel stands out for its Mudejár plaster works and holds the remains of Kings Ferdinand IV and Alfonzo XI.
The focal point in the prayer hall of the original mosque is the famous horseshoe arched mihrab or prayer nice which was used to identify the wall that faces Mecca.
In the Cathedral treasury we marveled at the Corpus Christi monstrance by Enrique de Arfe, still used in modern-day processions.
The craftsmanship and artistry it took to inlay polished marble into polished marble was amazing.
This is the main altar of the enormous “chapel” in the center of the cathedral.
This must be one of the most complex organs we have seen.
We guessed that must have been Columbus asking the King Ferdinand II and Queen Isabella of Aragon & Castille (Spain) for money to discover America.
As a young boy living near Guadalajara, Mexico, bullfighting was one of those things kids played, like cowboys and Indians. Having been to several bullfights over the years, I’ve always been intrigued about where these specially bred bulls come from. Since Seville was one of the more important centers for bullfighting in Spain, a little research showed that some of the most famous fighting bulls were raised near a small town called Lora Del Rio. A little more detective work gave us the name of the ranch and its location.
The ranch originally belonged to Don Eduardo Miura Fernández, and is known for producing large and difficult fighting bulls. A Miura bull first debuted in Madrid on April 30, 1849. Bulls from the Miura lineage have a reputation for being large, fierce, and cunning. It is said to be especially dangerous for a matador to turn his back on a Miura. Miura bulls have been referred to as individualists, each bull seemingly possessing a strong personal character.
In his book Death in the Afternoon, Ernest Hemingway wrote:
There are certain strains of bulls with a marked ability to learn from what goes on in the arena … faster than the actual fight progresses which makes it more difficult from one minute to the next to control them … these bulls are raised by Don Eduardo Miura’s sons from old fighting stock…
Bulls often have names. One called Murciélago survived 24 jabs with the lance from the picador in a fight October 5, 1879 against Rafael “El Lagartijo” Molina Sanchez, at the Coso de los califas bullring in Córdoba, Spain. Murciélago fought with such passion and spirit that the crowd called for his life to be spared, an honor which the matador bestowed. The bull, which came from Joaquin del Val di Navarra’s farm, was later presented as a gift to Don Antonio Miura, Don Eduardo’s brother. The Miuras proceeded to sire him into the Miura line.
The name Miura is best known outside the world of bullfighting thanks to Ferruccio Lamborghini’s sports car company, Lamborghini, and its classic Miura sports car. A number of Lamborghini cars have been named for Miura bulls. It was a visit to the Miura ranch that inspired Ferruccio Lamborghini, a Taurus himself, to make a bull the symbol of his industrial empire.
Arriving at the Finca Zahariche, there was a very explicit sign next to the MIURA Ranch entry: GANADO BRAVO—PROHIBIDO ENTRAR “Brave Bulls–Do Not Enter”, so we drove by thinking “Oh well, we tried”. But not being one to take “no” for an answer, I asked a local guy on horseback about the situation. He said, “Don’t worry about the gate. You can go in. Just make sure you close it behind you.” Okay, so we did, and soon arrived at the beautiful ranch home of António Miura Martínez and his brother Eduardo.
After making friends with the dogs, we met Antonio in the courtyard and I explained my passion for bullfighting and wondered if we could even see some of his famous bulls. He said no problem and told us where a couple of fenced areas were where the bulls were hanging out. We learned that he raises about 60 bulls each year and supplies six bulls each to eight different bullfights in Spain. Some animals die each year in the field fighting each other or otherwise injuring themselves like breaking their horns off or poking their eyes out.
I did ask him if any of his bulls ever killed a matador. He smiled and said yes, a few. I responded by saying “Well, if the matador is killed, I guess it’s his fault.” Antonio quickly answered with a grin and said: “Absolutely not. If a matador is killed, it’s the bull’s fault. After all, that’s what they are raised to do, kill matadors. In the ring, as far as they know, they are fighting for their lives.”
I asked what he thought about the people who think the poor bulls are suffering and it is a cruel sport, he said the bulls probably suffer more just being carted up and transferred to the ring than they do in the fight. Occasionally, a bull is pardoned, like the one named Murciélago, but Antonio said none of his animals have ever come back.
We spent the afternoon watching bulls, shooting pictures, and in the evening, we ended up camping on a side road next to where they were grazing. Señor Miura had advised us to stay on the right side of the fence. The Bulls were not always dangerous but they have their tempers, and if you happen to catch one in a bad mood you better stay out of its way.
The explicit sign, GANADO BRAVO—PROHIBIDO ENTRADA “Brave Bulls–Do Not Enter” gave warning of what was inside.
“Listen Poncho, you get in my way, I poke your eye out.”
“Hey Ramon, I hear the cows in California are really cute, and they speak Spanish. Nicer than those snooty Swiss cows.”
“What are you staring at dude? You looking for trouble?”
OK José, I’ll take the guy with the camera. You get the girl.”
Some animals die each year in the field fighting each other or otherwise injuring themselves like breaking their horns off or poking their eyes out.
“You looking for trouble? I’m waiting for you.”
“So you thought all fighting bulls were black. Don’t make this your second mistake.”
Matador El Fundi and a Miura bull are battling it out on a life and death stand-off. Feria de Abril, Seville, Spain, 2009. Photo by Alexander Fiske-Harrison
Eduardo Miura Martínez (L) and his brother António (R) were happy to talk about their famous Toros Bravos (fighting bulls) with Gary, (wannabe matador, Center).
We were careful to close the gate when we drove out of the Miura Ranch.
In the evening we camped on a side road and watched a small herd of bulls lazily grazing in the pasture.
As we mentioned in our first blog about Seville, we were fortunate to watch a professional ham-cutting contest. We had tasted this amazing ham during our previous travels in Spain and we always wondered how and where it was produced, since its flavor is so completely different from any other we had ever eaten. Here’s a little more about the famous and delicious Jamón Ibérica de Bellota. You may not find this ham at your local deli, but it’s worth looking for.
The Black Iberian Pig lives primarily in the south and southwest parts of Spain, including the provinces of Salamanca, Ciudad Real, Cáceres, Badajoz, Seville and Córdoba. The term “Black” or “Pata Negra” refers to the color of the pigs’ nails, (hooves), which are white in most traditional pork breeds, but black for the Black Iberian breed. The pigs must be at least 75% Iberian to be claimed as such. Many farmers like to cross breed them with the American Duroc Jersey which has a higher fat content. While as a general rule, a black nail should indicate an Ibérico ham, there are cases of counterfeits, with the nails being manually painted.
With over two and half million acres of open oak forests (Spanish: Dehesa), historically the pigs roamed wild. In the fall they consumed huge quantities of acorns (Spanish: Bellota) as they dropped from the trees. At some point people started to notice the unique flavor of the meat. Pigs were slaughtered and hams were salted and hung to dry in the attics or some other cold place.
The process today is basically the same on a larger scale. We were invited to visit the town of Monesterio, one of the main centers for the production of Jamón Ibérico de Bellota. There are actually three grades of Ibérico ham. Jamón de Bellota, the highest quality and priciest ham comes from pigs that eat only acorns in the last few months of their lives. The two other types of ham are Recebo where the pigs are fed on a mixture of acorns and corn & grain, and the Cebo, where the pigs are only fed on corn & grain. Sorry for the details here, but if you are tempted to buy some Bellota ham, you will be paying in excess of €78 per kilo ($47 a pound), sliced ready to eat, so you might as well know what you are paying for.
After visiting the fabulous Ham Museum in Monesterio, we were able to tour the processing plant of Victoriano Contreras Barragan, Hnos. Established in 1950, it is one of the largest in the area and prides itself on absolute quality. (with the distinction of Calidad Natural: Organically raised pigs)
In brief, once the pigs are slaughtered, the hams are trimmed and salted for a specific number of days, (10 kilos=10 days, etc.), washed, and stored in a cold room at 3°C to 6°C (37°F to 43°F) for 45 days. Then they are stored and aged in a second room at 15°C to 25°C (59°F to 77°F) for up to four years. The curing is a slow process.
The result is the famous Jamón Ibérico de Bellota, prized both for its smooth texture and rich, savory taste. A good Ibérico ham has regular flecks of intramuscular fat (marbling). Because of the pig’s diet of acorns, much of the fat is oleic acid, a monounsaturated fatty acid that has been shown to lower LDL cholestrol and raise HDL cholesterol.
During our visit to the Victoriano Contreras Barragan ham-processing center, they found out it was Monika’s birthday and presented her with a whole 5.5 kg (12 lb) Jamón de Bellota, complete with a stand and a special ham-slicing knife. It travels well and we are working hard to reduce our LDL cholesterol and practicing La Cultura del Jamón by placing thin slices of ham on our tongue and letting the flavors be discovered!
What can you do with two and half million acres of open oak forests? Answer: Grow fat pigs.
These cute pigs will munch on acorns in the fall and end up as some of the most expensive and delicious ham in the world.
The town of Monesterio, a short drive from Seville, is called the “City of Ham”. We found out why.
A visit to the fabulous Ham Museum in Monesterio gave us a better understanding of why the Jamón de Bellota is famous in Spain and other countries of Europe.
After the animals are slaughtered, butchers trim the legs and prepare them for the salting process.
The fresh hams are packed in pure rock salt for a specific number of days based on their weight.
In addition to the famous hams, all other parts of the pig are used for normal meat cuts and special aged chorizo sausages.
Once the salting process is done, the hams are washed and stored at 3°C to 6°C (43°F to 37°F) for 45 days.
Do they make air fresheners that smell like a Bellota ham?
With the first cooling process finished, the hams are aged and cured naturally at 15°C to 25°C (59°F to 77°F) for up to four years.
These hams are ready for sale in the adjacent butcher shop. The cups keep the drips safely away from the clients’ heads.
Before each ham is sold, it is inspected and tested (smelled) for flavor and purity using a special test stick made from a cow bone.
Angel Contreras, the director of the company, tests (smells) the ham to make sure it’s ready for sale.
For her birthday, the three Contreras cousins , Rafael, Eduardo and Angel presented Monika a whole 5.5 kg (12 lb) Jamón Ibérico de Bellota. Wow!
If you are going to spend €99 ($136) for a whole Jamón Ibérico de Bellota for a special party, you should hire a professional to come and carve it for you. This is a real art in itself.
Monika is getting better at the ham-slicing stand. The thin slices melt in your mouth. If you buy a ham you can hire her.
Don’t bother me. I’m lowering my LDL cholesterol.
One of the interesting things we could clearly see in Seville was the influence of the Arabic culture that dominated here for centuries before Christianity finally won out. Among the many amazing sites to visit in the city, the Alcázar Palace with its gardens, intricately carved arches, ceilings and beautiful Azulejo tiles leaves little doubt to its status as a World Heritage Site. Rising on the oldest archaeological remains of Seville, the Royal Alcázar Palace was born during the 10th century over the remains of an Islamic quarter. The Palace today is a harmonious combination of Taifa, Almohad, Gothic, Mudejar, Reminiscence, Baroque, Mannerist and Neo-Classical styles. It is the oldest Royal Palace of Europe still in use. Whenever the King of Spain comes for a visit to Seville, he stays in the upstairs quarters.
Spain is only one of the few countries that continue the tradition of real bullfights. Some will say it’s cruel and inhumane, but having lived in Mexico as a kid where I saw many bullfights, and again in Spain when Monika and I attended the famous Running of the Bulls in Pamplona some years ago, one cannot deny the excitement, the pageantry and the bravery of the matadors. Cattle in American feed lots may suffer more than a fighting bull in the ring. First built in 1761, Seville’s “Plaza de Toros” is the most prestigious in Spain. Unfortunately, we missed the bullfighting season that ends in early October.
If there’s anything Seville is really famous for, it must be Flamenco. A strange, sometimes violent, sometimes romantic dance tradition coming from many cultures. Seville is considered a center of this art. We were fortunate to find an excellent show to attend at the Museo del Baile Flamenco Dancing school operated by the well-known Flamenco artist, Cristina Hoyos.
After our flamenco experience, there was still time for a romantic carriage ride around town and through the park. It was the beginning of Monika’s week-long birthday celebration. The crisp air said that Autumn was coming. Vendors were selling roasted chestnuts. We stopped for a final glass of wine in this beautiful city. Tomorrow, we will discover why the delicious Jamón Ibérico de Bellota is so special.
This is the main entrance gate to the Alcázar Palace.
Walking through the arches and gardens of the Alcázar Palace, we could clearly see the influence of many cultures.
This beautifully flowering tree by the entrance caught everyone’s eye and no one knew its name. If you do, please let us know!
This particular domed ceiling was magnificent.
Seville’s “Plaza de Toros” is the most prestigious in Spain.
The people of Spain, and especially in Seville, love the pageantry of a bullfight.
There are many styles of Flamenco Dancing. The show at the Museo del Baile Flamenco was very professional.
In the evening the many fountains of Seville are even more beautiful.
Vendors are selling roasted chestnuts. Autumn is in the air.
A romantic carriage ride in the park. Is that a way to start a birthday celebration?
A final tapa and a glass of wine before we hit the highway tomorrow.
Heading east, we could not miss the magical city of Seville (Sevilla in Spanish). It had a feeling of a walk-around town, though one could easily get lost in the meandering pedestrian alleys and narrow side streets. We did a few times. The Jewish quarter was designed as a maze for protection of its residents who knew their way around. Our first impression of the city center was the beautiful complex of the Plaza de España, once the principal building for the 1929 Ibero-American Exposition World’s Fair, which is now mostly used for government offices. By chance, we happened to arrive when a professional ham carving competition was in progress. We will show you more about this gourmet delicacy in a later blog when we visit a ham processing plant.
Of the few sites on our must-see list was the Seville Cathedral, otherwise known as the Santa Metropolitana Y Patriarcal Iglesia Catedral de Sevilla (or The Cathedral of St. Mary of the See). Originally Seville’s main Mosque, (1181-1198), it was consecrated as a Cathedral in 1218 with the construction of the Gothic Cathedral continuing from 1131 to 1517. The Mosque’s main minaret was incorporated to form the Giralda bell tower. We could actually climb to the top for a great view of the city.
As with so many of these cathedrals we have seen in the past months, a few photos of the interior do not come close to portraying its magnificence, some might say over the top opulence. We wish we could have heard one of the two huge organs. We visited on October 15th so flower wreaths still surrounded the tomb of Christopher Columbus in celebration of his discovery of the Americas. In 1902, his remains were brought back here from Cuba.
The tourists eat about 7:00 PM and go to bed. The town comes alive after 10:00 when the locals go out for a tapa or dinner. 12:00 is not too late to relax at a sidewalk café or catch a flamenco show.
The beautiful Plaza de España complex, once the principal building for the 1929 Ibero-American Exposition World’s Fair, is now mostly used for government offices.
The Gothic towers of the Santa Metropolitana Y Patriarcal Iglesia Catedral de Sevilla are a wonder from any angle.
The Gothic towers of the Santa Metropolitana Y Patriarcal Iglesia Catedral de Sevilla are a wonder from any angle.
The original Mosque’s main minaret was incorporated to form the Giralda bell tower.
Climbing to the top of the Giralda bell tower, I checked my watch. Please, PLEASE—don’t ring the bells!!
The bells were silent and the view from the bell tower was impressive.
We wish we could have heard one of the two huge double sided organs, but why two? Oh well, the church in Mafra (Portugal), you may recall, had four!
It was Columbus Day. Flower wreaths surrounded the tomb of Christopher Columbus.
A few photos cannot show the magnificence of the interior of the Cathedral.
Properly slicing paper-thin bites of a $300 Pata Negra Jamón Ibérico de Bellota is a profession and an art, as we saw at this ham-carving competition.
Any time is Tapa time in Seville.
After a very busy time in Portugal, we needed to stop for a couple of days and catch up on some everyday chores. Not really to our surprise, all of the little things that need to be done at home still need to be done on the road and quite often they take a little longer. Cleaning house hasn’t changed nor has washing the car. One job got smaller, the other got bigger.
Maintenance of the truck is critical to the success of any long-term traveling. Things like checking the oil, lubing steering components and other grease fittings, checking filters, inspecting belts and hoses, power steering & brake fluid and a list of other little things that if neglected become big things.
Of course then there’s washing clothes and ironing, somewhat more difficult because we don’t have a washing machine in the camper. There’ll be a time soon when a lake or river will do. Life goes on and cutting fingernails, doing dishes and exercising take the same amount of time they did back home. We are home. Dumping the Porta Potti and filling the water tank are just part of the travel routine.
Spain has many modern RV campgrounds, and the Doñana RV Park near Huelva was exactly what we needed. A laundromat, a flat cement pad that facilitated rotating the tires, 220-volt power to keep our computers & cameras charged and our Odyssey deep cycle batteries topped up. (Nice shady trees meant no solar power.) Thanks to Peter, our brother-in-law in Switzerland, we have a compact transformer that converts the 220-230 volts used in most of the world to the 110-120 volt power we need.
Not driving 4 or 5 hours a day does give us some time to relax and make a plan, and even meet fellow travelers to share information. It’s sort of like having “neighbors”. We are in Spain now, and we both speak Spanish. That’s nice.
Not driving 4 or 5 hours a day does give us some time to relax and regroup.
Spain has many modern RV campgrounds, often with pools, tennis, and a restaurant.
Our compact transformer converts the 220-230 volts used in most of the world to the 110-120 volt power we need.
Washing clothes and ironing need to be done every few weeks, and it can take a little longer on the road.
Time to organize and repack for the next leg.
Careful maintenance will keep our truck running for many thousands of miles.
Power steering, oil, brake fluid, belts and hoses, filters and a list of other little things that if neglected become big things.
Our auxiliary/primary fuel filter has a clear bowl so we can check for water or contaminants before they reach the fuel pump or factory fuel filter.
Rotating five 180-lb tires and checking the torque on the wheels and the pressures are easier in the comfort of a modern RV park.
Our final stop in Portugal was really more of a surprise. We were just looking for a place to stop for lunch when saw the fortress and church of Mourão on top of the hill inviting us. Turned out the route we chose was a little too narrow to be comfortable so we parked and walked.
Typical of Portuguese hospitality, Carlos insisted we stay for lunch.
On the way up we saw a man working with olives. We had pickled fresh olives ourselves in California so we were intrigued about this man’s process. Stopping for a moment to watch, he invited us to taste a few. They were delicious, seasoned only with salt and oregano.
The next thing we knew we were inside his house where he prepared a wonderful lunch of barbecued sardines, local cheese, Spanish rice and a very nice red wine.,—and olives of course. He just wouldn’t let us leave.
Turns out that the church and castle on the top of the hill could have been driven to had we taken a different route. In any case, the ruins were not that interesting and the church was closed. So after our surprise lunch with Carlos and his family, we walked back down the hill and drove into Spain.
