Our Andalusian Holiday

As careful as I was to avoid him altogether, Sean’ pre-holiday cold virus eventually marched it’s armies through my defensive lines, conquering the back of my throat and on the plane from Amsterdam to Seville the bugs went bananas in my upper respiratory tract. The extreme ambient temperature change probably didn’t help, just 14°C in The Hague and a dry 33°C in Andalusia’s capital, like wearing an electric blanket in the desert. Plenty of fluids (jugs of sangria) and rest (afternoon siestas) would eventually shake the critters off but meanwhile I had must-see boxes to tick on my Seville list and Sean would have to endure my moaning for a change.

Seville

Despite feeling sickly, I was still excited about visiting this 2000 year old capital of southern Spain. Invaded by the Moors in 711 and reconquered by the Catholics in 1248, Seville has inherited something of all the civilisations that have passed through it. Monuments, museums, history and culture galore. Our taxi driver from Seville airport was definitely enthusiastic about the place - ‘the number one city in Spain’- said to the grinning Señor, several times. He drops us at our uninspiring and mildly fetid hotel room, it’s already late so we change out of our crushed and sweaty clothes and look for some eats. We walk through a garden dedicated to the baroque artist Murillo with a statue of Christopher Columbus in it’s grounds, then sit under an awning spraying cool mists of water and order a cold entree of sliced melon and ham. The mains that follow are unmemorable but we make up for it with takeaway stracciatella ice cream cups. It’s hot but quite welcome to stroll in a happening albeit a little touristy part of town.

The following morning Sean and I are taken back in time. We are wandering about the Real Alcazar, or the royal palace in Seville, a complex which has Moorish origins dating from the 10th century. This was the era of Abd Al-Rahman III, the greatest of the Umayyad Arab Muslim rulers of Spain and the first to take the title Caliph. However over the centuries subsequent monarchs including the later Catholic monarchs such as Pedro the Cruel and Charles V had added to the palaces.  So the architectural style called mudéjar developed: a blend of Christian and Arab styles. The Hall of Ambassadors is the most beautiful room in the Real Alcazar: square with a huge domed ceiling. Throughout the complex there are elaborate horse shoe arches and geometric and floral motif tile work, ornate lace-like patterned stucco, open to the weather with courtyards and gardens. The architecture is like nothing I’ve seen in the flesh before but as our Andalusian trip continues, I get to see a great deal more Moorish building design.

Hall of Ambassadors Real Alcazar

However, by circumstances of history many of the buildings and sites with Moorish origins later had Christian functions and additions. In the afternoon we explore the gothic style Seville Cathedral, the third largest cathedral in the world where lies the tomb of Christopher Columbus. Even this cathedral, built in the 15th century was constructed on the site of a former Mosque. Part of the mosque that was kept, the Giralda, was a former minaret converted to a bell tower. It has a spiral ramp rather than a staircase leading to its 100 metre high spire top. We climb it for the fantastic views of the city.

Seville Cathedral

The following day we venture further and find ourselves in an exquisite former convent, now the Museo Bellas Artes de Sevilla. Said to is be second only to the Prado in Spain for Spanish works (however nowhere near as large) this fine art museum has art from the medieval to the early 20th century. There are some paintings by El Greco and Velázquez and Seville artists Murillo and Zurbarán. One baroque room in the museum has a magnificent domed ceiling painted in the 18th century to which we both mouth ‘wow’.

Museo Bellas Artes de Sevilla

From, the tangible treasures of pantings and architecture to what the list composing organisation UNESCO calls Intangible Cultural Heritage. Seville and Andalusia is of course known for flamenco (on UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list). In the evening, after siesta, we visit the Museo del Baile Flamenco, a flamenco dance museum where there is a show.   The performers, a guitarist and two dancers are thrilling: strong, proud, emotional, much energetic stamping and flicking of dress trains, sprays flying sweat droplets. I’m impressed and energised. I’m even feeling my cold is on the way out and the next morning we are in our hire car and having picked Aussie Karen for our sat-nav voice, we are on our way to Córdoba.

Cordoba

We arrive in Córdoba City outskirts about 45 minutes before we find our hotel. Karen wants us to turn the wrong way down a one-way street.  There is much circling and berating: Karen doesn’t listen, Karen can’t hear us. We need to outsmart her and we do. We drive out of the city and attack it from another direction. This time Karen, eventually gets us there, although plenty of Sean’s advanced driving skills are required for the tight corners and we realise Aussie Karen is a bit weak on her Spanish street name pronunciation.

Córdoba is a laid back little city compared to the bustle and brash of Seville. However, once this city was more important than Seville. In fact in the 10th century it was the most powerful, prestigious and populous city in the western world, famous for its writers and scholars. Sean and I explore the old town a little when we arrive. We cross the old Roman Bridge, originating from the 1st century AD, on foot. The sun is reflecting off all the pale stone and brick work around us and to remove our sun glasses is to burn our eyeballs.

Roman Bridge, Cordoba

At the time of Julius Caesar, Córdoba was one of the great cities of the Roman empire. The city was captured in 711 by the Islamic armies and the cities golden age was created under the Umayyaid family (756-1031). In 716 it became the capital of al-Andalus, and in 929 a Caliphate, a state independent from Baghdad, itself. The most important monument in Córdoba is the Mezquita, the Great Mosque and we get a tip from the girl at the tourist counter - tomorrow is a special day - visit between 8.30am and 10.00am and it’s free. These days the mosque is not a mosque, but used as a Catholic church. The site was originally a Christian Basilica, before the Moors started building their mosque in the year 785 and then after the Spanish reconquest in1236, it again became a Roman Catholic Church, as it is today.

The sun is beating down at nine o’clock the next morning and I throw on a singlet top, nothing too revealing, just a practical loose fitting top that lets my armpits breathe. Big mistake. I am stopped by security. Although quite happy to scorch us with temperatures fit for hell, God has issue with bare shoulders today. I am sent across the road to a particular souvenir shop and have to pay for a pink polyester shawl that I don’t want to cover the offending body parts. 

Mezquita

Once the security guard decrees I am decent - was there some arrangement between the guard and the shop I wonder?- we get the go ahead to enter the Mezquita and are much in awe of the architecture. The Mezquita was built over a couple of hundred years from 785. It is a flat style with about 850 columns supporting the roof, horseshoe style arches with red bands along the arch that seem to go on for ever. The columns and their decorative capitals are of slightly varying styles because many were plundered from other sites. The repetition of the red and white horseshoe arches is broken with a more decorative and higher lobulate lacework arch, very impressive. I have my guidebook in one hand, holding my shawl on with the other, we are searching for the mihrab, the niche that indicates the direction that the Muslims had to prayer and it is hard to find in the dark. I find the niche, but have lost Sean amidst all the columns and arches, tear around to find Sean and drag him back to the niche. The mihrab is exquisitely decorated in gold and Arabic text but is not greatly prominent in the whole scheme of the building. 

What is prominent is the great big Catholic Cathedral smack in the middle of the Mosque that Charles V decided to build in the 16th century. It’s a mix of styles because it took a couple of hundred years to finish and sadly doesn’t quite match the rest of the building. However I am still in awe of the Mezquita, it’s almost magical ambience and the visual endlessness of the arches. 

We also visit Cordoba’s Museum of Archaeology that features Roman statues and mosaics from the area. We find shady gardens with red geraniums to wander in the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos, the former Fortress of the Christian Monarchs built in 1328.  The old castle also contains some museum pieces: a Roman marble sarcophagus in remarkably good condition and Roman mosaics on the walls. In 1492 the Spanish monarchs Ferdinand II and Isabella I received Christopher Columbus before his first voyage at this very castle. 

Royal Stables

Gardens in the Fortress of the Christian Monarchs

Next door at the Caballerizas Reales, the former royal stables, there is some kind of horsey competition going on. Stunning Spanish horses with rippling musculature beneath their glossy brushed coats are led by Spanish equestrians in high waisted breeches, waistcoats, cropped jackets and sombrero cordobés. We watch until the winners are awarded ribbons for being the best at whatever it was they were best at. Then I make Sean walk every narrow street in Cordoba with it’s lovely whitewashed houses and little balconies swelling with flowers. We don’t buy any leather but there is a something to do with leathercraft smell in the air. We have a typical Andalusian meal on a rooftop with gazpacho and another creamier cold tomato soup called salmorejo and then a bulls tail for the main.

Granada

We are still stuffing our faces when we have our first braekfast in Granada, churros dipped in hot chocolate. Around us in a busy city square, plenty of Spanish families, adults, children and grannies, are all doing the same. Big piles of the deep fried dough fingers in the middle of cafe tables, being plunged in the hot gooey chocolate and munched on for breakfast.

Churros

Sustained with dough, fat and chocolate we visit the Granada Cathedral, built by Queen Isabella immediately after the conquest of Granada on the site of the Mosque. However it took nearly 200 years to build this gothic and renaissance style cathedral during which time Isabella died. Both Isabella and King Ferdinand II are buried in the Royal chapel here and I climb below to see their crypt. Their daughter the melancholic Joanna the Mad and her husband Phillip the Handsome also have their tombs here.  Isabella’s Flemish and Italian painting collection is also in the Royal Chapel and there are works by Hans Memling, Roger van der Weyden and Sandro Botticelli, a fine surprise to see.

We have timed tickets for the Alhambra, the ancient palace and fortress complex built for the last Moorish rulers of Spain, up on a hill, for the following afternoon. The Alhambra is top attraction with only a limited number of tourists allowed to stomp through it’s ancient grounds at a time. Meanwhile Sean and I set out to see the rest of Granada. 

Arab Baths

The Albaicín is the old Arabic quarter located on the hill opposite the Alhambra. There are cobble stoned streets with white washed houses, and the 11th century ruins of old Arab baths, the Banuelo. The Moors didn’t soak in immersion baths.  Instead they poured water over themselves, had a scrub and relaxed in the steam. The Banuelo, although a thousand years old still has it’s walls and decorative ceilings intact so it was possible to visualise how the baths were used. For the Moors water was a symbol of purification and sin cleansing. People would go to the bath to wash themselves, to get their hair cut, have a massage and also socialise and conduct business. Of course the Arab baths were single-sex affairs and so there were separate time slots for men and women. Apparently the wiffy women only left their homes for weekly visits to the cemetery and to go once or twice a month to the bath. 

Later in the afternoon we visit a modern functioning Arab bath for the hammam experience. Like the authentic baths, it has rooms for hot, cold and warm water temperatures, however the modern version involves both genders, swimming costumes and immersion baths so we have a soak. There are candles, cushioned benches with jugs of hot very sweet mint tea, restricted visitor numbers and a silence rule. Unfortunately the other group using the baths during our session time don’t understand about the silence. Later when one of their group can’t work out how to open the changeroom door, Sean pretends he doesn’t understand how to open it either and leaves the woman stranded in the hallway in her bikini. She was annoying so she deserved it.

Palace of Charles V, Alhambra

The following afternoon we are allowed to enter the Alhambra from two o’clock, but our timed tickets only allows us to enter the best bit, the Nasrid palaces from 7:30pm, the last time slot for the day. We allow ourselves a few hours to wander around the rest of the grounds until it is time to enter the royal palaces. The Alhambra originally dates from the 9th century, when part was used as an army garrison. In the 13th century, the first Nasrid ruler, Mohammed I, made his royal residence there and the palaces remained with the Nasrid dynasty until the reconquest by the Catholic Monarchs in 1492.  In 1527 Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor built a palace on the site next to the Nasrid palaces. We visit this renaissance building, built by a student of Michelangelo. It’s a square construction with a surprisingly huge inner circular patio bordered by columns. In the heat we climb all over the 9th century Alcazaba where the Moorish army was garrisoned and wander about the gardens of Generalife (pronounced something like yenra-leefay) the summer palace with its ponds, courtyards and old trees. 

Ushering us through the complex, is the English speaking audio guide which turns out to be quite a convoluted recording. By way of a Laurence Olivier voice we are subject to the poetic musings of the 19th century American historian and author Washington Irving who is credited with introducing the Alhambra to the west.  In 1829, Irving lived in the palaces and three years later published his ‘Tales of the Alhambra’ from parts of stories heard from locals. “How many legends and traditions, true and fabulous; how many songs and ballads, Arabian and Spanish, of love and war and chivalry, are associated with this oriental pile!” he writes in ‘Alhambra.’ And so he goes on in the book excerpts on the audio guide with much wistful gushing.

Finally 7.30pm comes and we still have to line up to see the Nasrid palaces which originate from the 14th century. With plenty of other antsy pushy tourists we make our way between palatial rooms arranged around courtyards. It really is a masterpiece of architecture and I imagine being there on my own. One guide book tells me that I should sit on the floor in the palaces to get the authentic sense of how the architecture looked and felt to the Nasrid rulers. But all I can see when I crouch are other people’s legs so I conclude it’s better to stand. In any case the view is best when I look up. 

Court of the Myrtles, Alhambra

Alhambra

On the walls are richly coloured tiles with tessellation's that much later inspired the Dutch artist MC Escher. However, above the tiles, on the ceilings and in the horseshoe arches are sumptuously detailed lace like ornamentations. From the ceiling, the decoration appears like little stalactites protruding and making a perfect pattern. Outside in the Court of the Myrtles, a long mirror like pond sits in the centre of the courtyard creating perfect symmetry and leading the eye to the majestic arches and architecture at each end. The Muslims used mathematics in the overall structure and even with the decorative elements of the design to create a sense of harmony in the proportions (something to do with ratios based on the square root of 2). Although I don’t quite understand the maths, the art and architecture it created is beautiful. Even after the reconquest by the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella were so charmed with the place that they moved in. Sean and I found the Nasrid palaces absolutely worth the wait.

We spend a couple of nights in Granada eating tapas at the same bar. The menu is in Spanish with no translation and our waitress is very friendly but speaks no English. My guidebook with the food translator is back at the hotel so we have fun guessing what the items on the menu might be, get it wrong, end of with too much food, but eat it all anyway.

Marbella

After Granada, Sean and I head south to the Costa del Sol, ‘coast of the sun’ for the relaxing part of our trip. We find a cool bar that serves pintxo, tapas from northern Spain that are served with a toothpick through the middle. The type of toothpick, which you keep on your plate, denotes the price of each pintxo. There are tuna stuffed peppers and crab filled pastries, chorizo and potato omelets. The waiters are funny and crack jokes with us and we eat more than enough pintxo for a whole meal two nights in a row.

Marbella

We get sunburnt sitting by the pool at our hotel in Marbella and on the sun lounges on the beach. The sun lounges, which must be paid for at the cocktail bars and restaurants that line the beachfront, are not so busy this time of year, despite the hot weather. Meanwhile poor immigrant Africans who seem to outnumber the tourists, have a hard time traipsing the beach trying to sell fake designer handbags and sunglasses.

Ronda

We decide to spend a night in Ronda before returning to Seville where we will pick up our flight back to the Netherlands. Ronda is a city of white buildings that sit either side a canyon.   As soon as we arrive at out hotel, we ask them for the directions to the Puento Nuevo or New Bridge, built from 1751 over 42 years. It’s a nearly 100 metre tall bridge over the canyon, connecting the old and new towns. We walk over the bridge into the old town and explore an old Arab watermine. The Moors cut steps into the stone walls of the gorge to enable the carriage of water in skins from the river Guadelevin below. We climb down a complex old stone staircase that descends to the bottom of the canyon. The staircase passes through a number of empty chambers and when we get to the bottom there is just the river, nowhere to go, so we have to climb back up again. Back at the top of the cliff we have a beautiful view from the Casa del Rey Moro gardens. 

New Bridge

After the New Bridge, the most popular site in Ronda is the Plaza de Toros, the bullring.  There are no bullfights on this day, in fact there are few held in this bullring anymore, which means we are allowed to enter the ring. The ring feels huge and intensely bright. The ground is sandy and sun drenched and all around there is an 18th century circular sandstone gallery. The bullring also has an excellent museum with art depicting the bullfight from Goya and information about the great matador legends of Ronda. Pedro Romero Martinez (1754-1839), for example, slew nearly 6000 bulls in his lifetime without being gored. The other famous matador from Ronda was Antonio Ordóñez Araujo (1932 - 1998). He was great pals with Orson Welles and Ernest Hemingway.

Plaza de Toros, Ronda

That evening, our last night in Spain, I picked the restaurant, so I can only blame myself. It might have been the wine or could have been the meatballs. I was not well that night or the next day. I haven’t felt this nauseous for ages. On our trip to the airport Sean placed a plastic bag on my lap to keep the hire car clean. And as he maneuvered the bends in the mountainous region between Ronda and Seville, I filled the bag up. An icky end to a great holiday in Andalusia (but I didn’t miss the bag!).