Back To Madrid - Horses Are Resting

      . . . . As my personal record of this Viaje it is necessary to include more foto notas from Madrid, as Madrid was our first city on the itinerary.  It was an excellent preparation for all that came next, including getting over the worst of jetlag in the comfort of the 5 star Hotel Prado.  Additionally to the comfort, it was location.  The famous Neptune Fountain is in the circle plaza outside, and a few steps away, cross the street, walk through the tipica big Hispanic city leafy, flowered, grass covered with public toilets, cross the street on the other side, and there you are: at the Prado Museum.

At this time at least, Spain is inexpensive,  which is why we could do this trip as 4 and 5 stars -- the dollar is so strong against the Euro.  However, this isn't the case for changing money. Big fees are charged, so we used cards almost exclusively.

Spain was vastly less expensive than anywhere in the US, particularly NYC.  Last night at our local, we had only wine and an appetizer last night at our local. It cost significantly more than any full meal with wine we had in Spain, including the most 'splurge' meal we had in Cádiz, in one of the very best restaurants in Spain, with an international clientele. 

And, ya, the wine last night was not near the quality of the Spanish terroirs; Europe doesn't tax wine and beer to death as the US does, nor must they it travel across the ocean, or even land -- so much of it is made near the restaurants. Many of restaurants have on their wine list wines available only in that particular restaurant-bar-taberna, meaning a special relationship with the vintners.

First Cena (Dinner) in Madrid, a restaurant that specialized in regional wild mushrooms.  Along with the wine, of the Castile Terroir, this may have also been the very best, most delicious meal we had on this journey. The plates and other dishes all had individual regional mushrooms and surrounding plants as their design.

As she cannot go on such a viaji, the bird pin placed on the design was gifted to me by as friend in her place right before we left. She has for a year been fighting cancer, with extraordinarily difficult treatments, who is scheduled for surgery very soon. 

 The pin was always in my cross body bag. Throughout the journey, at different meals, I clicked this Bird of Passage and texted the fotos to her in real time.  She said they picked up her spirits after yet another round of chemo.

Alvaro de Bazan y Guzman (1526-1588), a hero of Lepanto, 33 years as General Admiral of the Spanish Navy, never was defeated.  I was so excited to encounter this monument to him in an enclosed courtyard on our way to visit the 9th C Muslim Wall remains.  The Battle of Lepanto truly was a one of those most significant events in history.  Though almost a draw in terms of lives and ship lost, it did prevent the Turks from moving into the western Mediterranean.  It also increased, not only Spain's, but Europe's anger and disgust with France. She was not at Lepanto. Thanks to Francis I, France was allied, as she'd been for long, with the Turks.  Something we don't hear much of over here in terms of European history. Spain was one of the few European nations to send help to the Siege of Malta against the Turks.  France was begged to, but did not.

Most of all, I think, I was excited because I knew who Alvaro de Bazan y Guzman was! I didn't need to read the plaque to find out, I just needed his name. I knew about Lepanto and the Great Siege of Malta!  I felt the same way so often in the Prado, looking at portraits of different Spanish court grandees painted by Goya -- I knew who people such as Godoy and Floridablanca were.

This was the first time I noticed that Spain's historic sites have information plaques in Braille as well as print. It was the same at the 9th C Muslim wall remains.

This is one of Goya's historical interpretation of the battles with the French invasion forces. This one features Egyptian Mameluke Imperial Guard cavalry regiments. Yet another stupidity of Napoleon.  By the supreme Católica God who gave Spain back to the Christians after more than 7 centuries, how could he think the Spanish would passively accept a takeover that centered Muslim fighters?
[This is not my photo, as no photography or recording of any kind is allowed in the Prado.]

This Is Not the White House. The royal palace in Madrid, not far from the 9th C Muslim Wall remains.  This was the weekend, and tourists from near (Spain) and far were present even as closing time was imminent.  No, one cannot go in.  Not sure though, whether the flag meant the king was in residence.  This palace is surrounded by vast gardens that are essentially woods. The Spanish kings were even more insane about hunting than the English and French ones. This tradition has continued into the present: recall the Spanish royal scandal not that long ago regarding members killing elephants.

Madrid, our first Flamenco performance in Spain.  We were seated next to a lovely Japanese American couple from Seattle.  This was their final night before flying home from their vacation, which began in Fez, Morocco.  They liked Marrakesh much more than Fez, and Spain more than that. The wife is a Flamenco aficionado, who takes classes back in Seattle.  El V and I were the only audience members who masked.

Red is Passion.  See those hands clapping that distinctive Flamenco cracking rhythm? Despite the late 19th C Spanish officials and intellectuals, and later, Franco's repressive attempts to stop the prevalent popularity of Flamenco music and dance with foreigners and tourists, it was a failure.  At this time there is no national Spanish music at all, except Flamenco.  It is everywhere.  Students come in droves from everywhere to study in every city in Spain, though particularly in Sevilla and Granada, of course.  No matter where you are, you will hear casual Flamenco clapping as men and even little kids practice, even in train stations.

From my seat I had a splendid view of the dancers' feet.  The dancers are percussionists.  They and the musicians and singers are on a particularly constructed platform called a tablao (pronounced tabl-ow! ow like meow). This platform is actually a drum head, with air space between it and the 'ground' that makes for a resonator, as the belly of a non-electric guitar is a resonator.  'Tablao' is used interchangeably to refer to the stage-platform and to Flamenco itself.

Jerez: The Royal Andalusian School of Equestrian Arts

     . . . . At Jerez de la Frontera we entered the Southern Land of Oranges, Horses, Fans and Flamenco. 

As per usual, I remain fascinated with the financial, administrative matters concerning  housing, feeding and stabling and other organizational structures that make such a vast enterprise as this work -- and it is far from the only one of vast Equestrian centers to be found in Spain.

These Competitions Are Part of the 50th Anniversary of Jerez's Royal Equestrian Arts Institute, Founded, A Plaque Informed Me, by "los amigos de caballos".

Jerez, School's Extensive Grounds Inside the City Divided From Pedestrians and Street Traffic

Entrance/Exit to Stables and Competition Grounds

Jerez School Administration Offices - Some Of Them

Window On School Indoor Riding Ring and Theater

Royal Box Indoor Theater and Competition Ring

Opposite End From Royal Box, Entrance/Exit Performers and Competitors.  I don't know the function of the mirrors there, which at this size aren't clear are mirrors.

Jerez Royal School Grounds. The Lower Roofed Building is the Indoor Ring, the White Building Is Offices.

Some of the horses next post.  The videos truly show the horses floating above ground. But I cannot (at least so far) figure out how to get a video shot on fone (a very low grade fone at that) to either my desktop video files to blog here or the Other Place.

Gatos: Madrid and Cadiz

 

View From Our Room in the Hotel Prado's Out of Open Window; Madrid's International Women's Day Protest Started Here. Their Chant, in English, Was, "Madrid Will Be the Tomb of Machismo!"  It sounds much better in Spanish, particularly accompanied by a batteria of Cuban Drums and Polyrhythms, Played by Brasileras, Which It Was.
Next to this plaza circle is a typical Spanish city, "Prado", a boulevard dividing the highway, with grass and trees, as one sees in Mexico City or Bogota -- or Havana's Old Town.  Crossing over that, one arrives at the brilliant Prado art museum.  Which is why our hotel was there and we were in that hotel.
Also, the windows of all the hotels in which we stayed, with a single exception, the last one in Córdoba, opened to the outdoors, and did not have screens, excellent for fotografy.

Remains of 9th C Arab Wall Fortress located at present Cuesta de la Vega, near the crypt of the La Almudena Cathedral; Long Before Madrid, And After Both Charles Martell and Charlemagne.

 Above the Courtyard Which Is Below the 9th C Muslim Wall Remains.

A Member of the Cat Families That Live In and Around the 9th C Muslim Wall Remains.

Madrileños Declare Themselves Cats!

Inside this Bar-Restaurant of the Most Hip Cats.

Theatrical Cat Hangin' Out In Madrid.

Evening On Cádiz Popular Atlantic Ocean Beach

One of the Cat Houses And Villages Built for the Ferals Who Live In and Along the Cádiz Sea Wall, On the Atlantic Side!

Archivos de Indias

      . . . . We were conducted around The Archivos de Indias this AM by colleagues.

 Carlos III in the 18th C ordered all the documents that dealt with Spain's empire east and west to be housed in one building. This edifice is modeled much like his palace-hunting grounds Escorial -- the advisor who gave him the ideas is buried ... in New Orleans, which this is mentioned on his tomb.  One of the Archives's colleagues has spent time in the Historic Museum of New Orleans deciphering the handwriting of the Spanish documents there -- her specialty. The other has done work with Lubbock TX, which university there has a program that sends students to Sevilla for 6 months.  It's amazing this internationalism, which, of course, TX is so antipathic about -- just saw the news today o boy, what Abbott's done to the school system in Houston -- because Houston is a Dem stronghold.  Terrifying what's going on and what is going to happen.

[Originally posted on DW on 03/15/23]

Go Any Further and We Shall Fall Off

      . . . .  We are at the end of the world, or at least the end of Europe, in the oldest, continuously inhabited city in Europe, Gadir, established by the Phoenicians, now, finally, Cádiz.  Now we know that we can go further, and we won't fall off.  Cuba, Havana, is just over there.  (Though it is Jerez, la frontera de Jerez, that actually looks a lot like Havana (without the dilapidation -- and when we get to Sevilla, now that recalls Havana in every way, which as the treasure flotas arrived from Havana to Sevilla, la reina católica's city, and which she made the capital of her kingdom, would be expected, right?). The tap water in Jerez was safe to drink, but it tasted funky in the way New Orleans tap water does.  Here in Cadiz, it's still safe to drink, which as it turns out is true throughout Spain. We are so used to being Cuba, where one cannot drink the tap water. Potable water was and always is a problem there, just as it is in St. Augustine, FL.

We are in a 4-star hotel that was a convent.  The church is still consecrated and operating as a church, but the sisters have gone ... where? elsewhere? It is extremely quiet, which is good for sleeping. One feels to be in a fortress (of God?) or a prison (of God?).  But it is still cold, dark and convent-y, though with mod cons.

It's a good thing to be reminded, as one falls in love with Spain, that even when/where it was Muslim, it has always been a prodigiously Catholic country, about which history there is a lot to be said, and not much of it good.  At least as far as the history I know goes, and speaking relatively to most people, at least in the USA, I know whole lot.  It cannot be divorced from the Church's history, and the history of Spain (and Portugal) anywhere.

So much experienced -- cannot do anything except jot notes in Moleskine and take fotos with foney-fone.  In mine mind's eyes, I see endless processions of beautiful horses, Flamenco dancers and, yes, matadors and bulls. Watch certain Flamenco expressions and there is so much there from the arena, or did it flow from the dancers to the arena -- even from dancers much, much before Jesus, perhaps, even likely, from before the Romans? The bulls were in Iberia before the Romans and the arenas.  Africa is just a quick passage across the Mediterranean . . .  there are bull rings and arenas there too, on the southern side. 

[Originally posted on DW on 03/012/23]

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Cádiz Cat Houses and the Atlantic

     . . . . Today was Phoenicians and Romans, mostly. 

After which I took fotos and video of cats, cat houses, and cat towns under the seawall that protects Cádiz from the tormentas of el atlántico as we sunset walked around the island where is situated the oldest, longest continually inhabited city in Europe. We did both Romans and Phoenicians today.... and cats.

Speaking of cats instead of horses, I have a nice foto of one of the cats that live in and around the remnant of the Umayyads' fortress wall on the site that became Madrid -- going back so far, but not yet as far as Charles Martel or Charlemagne -- time, time, time. It is impossible not to time travel in Cádiz.

    . . . Took fotos and video of cats. Cat houses, and cat towns under the seawall that protects Cádiz from the terrors of the Atlantic as we sunset walked around the island where is situated the oldest, longest continually inhabited city in Europe. So of course included are cat houses and communities.

The people of Cádiz care for the feral cats in the same way do those of Istanbul.  Places for them to shelter from the salty humdity and sea spray, to relax and hang out, and to eat.  These are cleverly constructed so the cats can get to the food but the always ravenous gulls and other birds cannot.  Wonder if rats can?  But I've yet to see a rat anywhere, but this is a city, moreover one so ancient as this, with constant grain shipments, surely there are rats.

We did both Romans and Phoenicians today.... and cats. Will have dinner at a Moroccan restaurant with a lovely woman from Finland we met on the train yesterday. Dancing Flamenco is her hobby and passion.  Otherwise she's festival organizer. One of her festivals is a Steampunk festival. 

Perhaps there is a way to transfer the short video I shot of one of the competitors and her horse in Jerez yesterday morning to here. I could do it via a long process of getting it to this wonky laptop's hard drive in Word video files.  But I don't have time for that before I get back to NYC, where I would do the work on my desktop, which is much more powerful and faster.  Trust me: this is equine poetry in motion.  Ever since I've gotten here, i.e. to Spain, my mind's eyes, are filled with horses and dancers as I try to sleep. I've never been in a country, not even England, not even Virginia or Kentucky, where horses are such an integral part of a national identity and history.  No wonder 4th grade Horse Girl me dreamed of coming here.

So little time to write, to transfer, etc.  It's all my notebook, and occasionally trying to put some of it up here via my fone.  Weird experience that.

But I am so afraid of missing, losing something, of these incredible experiences that just never stop, not for a second.

[Originally posted on DW on 03/13/23]

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]

You Can Drink the Tap Water in Spain

      . . . .  Madrid's tap water made all the difference for recovering from dehydration caused by jetlag, adjusting to the altitude, and thorough upset of usual metabolic routines.  I drank gallons and gallons.  Recall, high altitude also promotes dehydration, which dehydration in these circumstances makes jetlag, lack of sleep and metabolic interruptions so much worse.

Madrid's on a plateau surrounded by impressively jagged mountain chains.  It was spectacular as they appeared out of the clouds, snow-covered points and sides, as we were in that long descent to the airport. I recalled how moved and impressed I was waking to the view below of southwestern France, the vast forests, mountains, ravines and farmlands.  It was the same this time, except it wasn't Gaul, but Iberia, and it looked in terms color and soft shapes like all those paintings we know -- except this was real.  Then, suddenly these ominous mountains  . . . with steep ravines and foothills seemingly impassable except to those who know.  This is a Transhumance world.  There is even an upcoming festival in Madrid to celebrate the ancient Iberian Transhumance way of life.  El V recorded me, it turned out, face pushed against the window, eyes wide, repeating, "Wow," over and over.

It moved me, like that flight over southwestern France, this in my own eyes revaltion of what Spain is, it's history going back at least to the Phoenicians, the Romans and the Visigoths, particularly about Madrid, why it is here.  Recall, there is so little Islamic presence in the region as to only a single archeological artifact's survival of their barely there footprint, the antipodes of Southern Spain. Knocked me out, it did.

The observance of Women's International Day -- there is a lot to say about that, because we were right in it.

Can't believe we've been here just about 48 hours, as months of activity feel have happened.  However, jetlagged, needing to adjust to altitude, and the disruption of usual metabolic routine, while NO usual exercise, though a lot of walking is going on, up and down -- remember those mountains, hmmmm?  Plus eating so well, and o lordessa, in heaven, drinking wines made right here.

In the meantime too, when it comes to hotels, restaurants, art and entertainment, Madrid is so inexpensive, particularly compared to NYC.  Don't forget, that like the other European nations, i.e. the EU, Spain supports art and literature and entertainments.  We have nothing like this in the US.  In fact, in every way it feels like re-entering civilization from a long sojourn in a failed and toxic state, where we may all die any day from starvation, homelessness, disease, violence public and personal, climate catastrophe, and most of all plain all out stupidity.  In comparison to Madrid, even the avenues around the Met look grubby and shabby.

So much has happened already, including a whole day at the Prado, meetings with various people, drinking the best wine, and falling down unconscious -- not from the wine but from jetlag and altitude adjustment as well as arriving w/o sleep reasons.  Tomorrow is day trip to Toledo, which Spain took back from Islam in 1085, and which was the capital, as far as that would go, of Christian Spain, until Philip II decided to make this nothing place on this plateau his capital of his kingdom.

Gads, I love this!

I have some fotos, but am too tired to do the work to present them here now.

O lordessa it is wonderful to be here!

I could live here.  Easily.