Jerez: Hola Caballos!

As this is the longest stretch of travel in Spain for our itinerary, we flew from Madrid to Jerez.

Holy cow is this ever horse country! Descending to the airport, taxi-ing into the (very small) city, to our hotel, everywhere there are exquisite horses, of elegant conformation and silhouette.  Quite the highest end designer equine runway models.

Plus, there is Flamenco and sherry.  And the classic Islamic White Cities of the Atlsntic and Mediterrean coasts. After deplaning, in the terminal, you are greeted by a welcome to Jerez mural that is first, a gorgeous horse, and a beautiful dancer in classic Flamenco form. 

Last night in Madrid, we saw a Flamenco show in a very up close and personal space, deliberately created to be as close to the underground and caves-cellars (generally those belonging to a taberna, thus wine storage, all over Spain, and particularly in the south, dating from at least the Roman eras, but I'd guess from the Carthaginian ones too) from which the tradition emerged. (We were the only mask wearers, but so what?) It was the first time I have been that close to the performers. So I could parse how much of their classic poses are the same as those of bullfighters, fo one thing. Though none of the dancers used cotenants, one of them wore a shell medallion, which I like to think was a homage to the ancient predecessors of cotenants, already in the days the Roman's, who used clam shells.

Tomorrow we're taking a tour of the largest Roman amphitheater in Spain. But first, dressage! 

I can't believe I'm finally here, where I've wanted to go since 4th grade.  Better late than never is true . . . .

[Originally posted on DW 03/11/23]

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Royal Amigos del Caballos

      . . . .  More foney-fone fotos of horses in braids, and even, yes, in sparklies, than any sane person can take!  Sparklies, though subdued and tastefully minimal, on the riding helmets too.  What? They think they're royalty, nobility, or something?

Indoor ring though, no sparkles.  But mirrors at one end, the Royal box at the other, with a gigantic portrait of the king on the back wall of the box.  I guess that's sort of a mirror for somebody? No fotos allowed, not even with foney-fones.

Orange trees in the grounds.  Fotoed those.

Must move on to next thing now, and train, to Cadiz.

[Originally posted on DW 03/12/23]