The end is nigh as the fat lady prepares to sing

 

Well, this is it. Once again our allotted time is up and we are turning our minds to heading back towards home. We recall the start of this trip way back at the end of April when we arrived in Portugal. The weather was then unexpectedly hot but this did not last as we headed for Porto and a week of constant rain. Now, here in San Sebastian, we arrived in very warm weather but next day it was overcast and this has been the story of our visit here. And the dull weather looks like it will be with us for the remainder of our stay.

 

So a slight change of plans from sun baking/swimming led us to taking a 3 hour hike yesterday over the coastal hills to the rather appealing fishing village of Pasai Donibane where we had a very pleasant meal-fish, of course. A well worthwhile walk, with plenty of up and down climbs but great scenery all along the rugged coast. After that effort there were rumblings within the tour group about taking the walk back so we found a local bus for the 15 minutes trip back home to San Sebastian.

 

 

 

Meanwhile we have also spent a day in Bilbao - a great looking gallery building- not that fussed about the art within. Actually we thought Bilbao was more interesting than expected as we had heard that it was a bit too industrial to be worth spending time there. We did only visit the old town and strolled along the river where quite a bit of redevelopment has been done but all the same we liked this town.

 

Today has been declared a rest day. We expect Yvonne will take a guided walk of the town before exploring the shops around us. Mr will finish off this blog whilst keeping an eye on things, especially on the TV. The formal part of the Spanish elections kick off today and we are not sure where things will head especially on the Left as the two left leaning parties vie for votes. There are train delays planned for the week and, as far as we know, there are problems today, tomorrow and Thursday but not Wednesday when we are planned to take the train across Spain back to Barcelona.

 

 

 

Elsewhere it seems we should all be shocked when once again one born and bred US citizen takes a few guns and kills some fellow US citizens. From the President down they remain in denial and look for reasons beyond the obvious as why they behave as they do. When will they ever learn?

 

And elsewhere again as UK football thugs do what UK football thugs always do when travelling abroad, we remain saddened for France and we are glad we are not there. Unexpectedly, the football thuggery is currently getting a bigger run locally here in Spain than the US events have.

 

 

 

Happily, there is no local coverage on the magnificent Wallabies and Collingwood football teams.

But here on the Iberian peninsula we can reflect on what we have seen and done. Our Portugal update was great and we both enjoyed our separate activities on the Algave and in the North. Morocco was quite hectic and we learned a lot in a very short time about a rapidly growing country emerging from almost medieval times. A fascinating and enjoyable experience.

In Spain we have tried to do it in a different way to what we have done for previous travels. We have slowed down by renting apartments and not using hotels and we have added time aiming to deepen the day to day experience. For us, this has worked very well and we might do more trips this way in the future as we slow down further. Although we can never be locals we have enjoyed doing as they do. Our walk yesterday was shared with lots of locals out for a Sunday family walk as well as pilgrims heading for Santiago.

 

 

San Sebastian is a fine Victorian era beach city with a blend of youngsters doing what young people do. On our last brief visit here in 2004, we were amazed by the pintxos and the old town area. Older and fussier now, we are more interested in a good fish restaurant and some unexpectedly good local wines. Tough life for some, we know but someone has to do it.

Barcelona was a definite highlight and as a new place for us, a city of immense interest. Somewhat intriguing for Yvonne, our tour guide planned to train back across Spain to fly out of Barcelona rather than flying out from this side of the country. The argument is that this is more about the journey not the destination and I look forward to the 6 hours on the train Wednesday.

Then a last night in Barcelona will see us finished. Time to go home and make plans for the next trip.

Might even cast a vote ourselves too in due course. Not that a vote in a Canberra electorate counts for anything given how far left the town leans.

 

 

 

First arrows from San Sebastian

 

Fishing villages, Victorian era resort with esplanade features. Basque gastronomy with pintxos.

Elegant shopping opportunities. Well, actually for us there is some truth in the above in the area of San Sebastian but it depends on bringing it all together if you want to realise dreams and expectations.

 

 

We left Zaragoza on a late afternoon train which dropped us off shortly after 9 pm. With day temperatures well into the high 30s, we did not exactly rush around this rather quiet but very pleasant city but we did manage to enjoy a visit to former Moorish palace of Aljaferia which is now the legislative seat for the Aragonese people and where we discovered a great little dining room hidden away. And of course we continued discovering Mr Goya before taking our leave.

 

San Sebastian is a very different kettle of fish and a city relishing its location, reputation and history. I have to confess we are having some difficulty adjusting to 'traditional' Spanish lifestyle as we understand it of late morning starts, big lunch, siesta, tapas/pintxos and late evening dining. We have tried this to an extent but not with great success. So we had some difficulty on arrival to quickly find a meal beyond tired looking tapas sitting on yet more bread. Most places were closed or just serving drinks. After a thorough touring team debate we found a small place in the old town that we could tolerate.

 

 

We are not big fans of paella dishes, having had mixed results with past experiences with this dish. There is some dissention in the tour group around the idea of standing in the small hole in the wall enjoying one drink and a tapas before moving on to the next hole in the wall for a second drink and more bread/topping etc. Unless we make tapas the main evening meal (undesirable) or want to end up the size of ocean liners, I think we have gone beyond the idea of tapas/pintxos.

 

As with our time in Barcelona we are living in a central city apartment. Another great location and a nest up to our expecations. So we can mix our eating and drinking to suit-as one has to do when on the move, as we are, over an extended period of time. That part of the trip is working out very well.

 

 

Yesterday was also warm here in San Sebastian. After the obligatory visit to the markets to store up for the week, we took our walk along the esplanade above the long beach where there were plenty of people enjoying the sun. We gave pintxos a miss before having dinner underground in a small local restaurant. Day over.

 

So now we are settled in and ready to explore further and try to make the most of our remaining time here. The weather is distinctly cooler today and we have had a little rain.

 

And the news seems to be much the same. Hilary on the way up. Brexit, Brexit, Brexit. Spanish elections. Football starting in Paris which is in a mess. Floods now retreating, rubbish everywhere due to strikes, airlines in a mess due to the annual summer pilot strikes, trains on strike, French people still fiercely resisting any form of adjustment beyond the 1960s. What a waste.

 

 

 

And our Queen just keeps on leading our Empire to further glory seemingly forever. We can't wait to get home in time to meet our own democratic obligations.

So where have all the people gone?

 

After zipping along at 250 kph on the train from bustling Barcelona, we are having a short break in downtown Zaragoza along the way. Very impressive central city area. Very clean, huge tree lined avenues.  Wide streets lined with well presented shops and coffee/eating places, huge catholic structures obviously designed to intimidate us mere ants on the planet.

 

But where are all the people?

 

 

We are in a great hotel with plenty of friendly staff. But it feels almost empty. Terrific buffet breakfast for just a few participants. Yesterday, only a relatively few people out and about-maybe it was still siesta time.

 

 

In our spare moments we have taken in some english speaking TV. Most of it must be some sort of media joke as what passes for news these days is almost endless trivia. Nothing on BBC about European floods but film coverage of water in a remote gorge in some out of the way spot on the planet called Tasmania.  BBC coverage of long dead Margaret Thatcher fans longing for a return of greatness in Britain, including the almost inevitable interviews with an aging spitfire pilot and the usual right wing, public school educated clown, still defending the empire against those continental huns. Long may they wait or perhaps they will sink further soon

 

 

A channel change to Russian TV and an interview with an overweight Kevin R opining about Chinese agression and the counter threat from an Australia doubling its defence budget. Who pays this clown to tour the globe listening to himself?

 

In desparation, another channel change only to get screeching Hilary. Switch off.

 

 

We are now heading into very warm weather in Spain-over 34 degrees today. So we may have to slow down a bit as we explore the city from Roman ruins, through Moorish times and of course Mr Goya who left a bit of his work around here for us ants to regard.

 

 

So now we are part of a problem

 

 

So how does it feel to be part of a problem? We are here in our rooftop small apartment in the very much residential Born area of central Barcelona, just a few minutes walk from city hall and the cathedral area. The weather is terrific and not a bit like that now being experienced in France/Germany/Czech Republic/Austria/Croatia where floods are devasting these countries and peoples' lives.

 

 

But here we are part of the floods of tourists enjoying history, galleries and Gaudi. Not really understanding the pressures that we are apparently placing on residential rental prices for locals.

 

 

La Rambla is jammed with tourists and Indians flogging rubbish so we have generally avoided that area and this city seems to be one of the few places frequented by Americans in numbers these days. The major attractions have tourist number limits in place and we opted out of a visit within Park Guell (Gaudi) as there was a three hour wait in front of us.

 

 

My other beef for today is cameras, especially those being used by younger Asians as they preen before monuments, shops, street scenes with cameras set on multishot or taking endless selfies. Not to be outdone, one young woman on the chairlift yesterday had her camera taking a video while taking photos on her iphone at the same time! We are different to that of course.  Just here to learn about as others live.

 

 

 

 

Having said all that, we are enjoying the lifestyle and compactness of a really interesting city with endless enticing bars, cafes and restaurants, little shops and the obligatory patisserie. Without us, it must be one of the better places to live on the planet (as long as you have a job). The Sagrada Familia was fascinating and Mr Picasso has a museum just down the street from us that we enjoyed seeing. We have also visited the monastery at Montserrat and simply enjoyed taking our time to live amongst friendly people. We are now fully relaxed and recovered from the Moroccan tour and preparing to move on within Spain in a day or so.

 

 

 

And with the magic of internet we are keeping up with happenings down under. Not missing it much though. Now what was I going to do next?

If you are in too much of a hurry then you are already dead

As I last wrote, we had just completed our cooking class in Fez and Randall then took a mid afternoon walk around the neighbourhood to complete our rest day. We dined within the medina at a local restaurant in the home, enjoying Moroccan salad (of course), chicken pie (pastilla) and home made sweets. Great cook and friendly family.

 

 

 

The next day was a very long 10 hour drive to Marrakech and almost another world. The country changed fairly quickly along the way and after some steady climbing we had a short stop in a European style town complete with royal grammar school, convention centre and french town setting. Ifrane is known as the Switzerland of Morocco and has plenty of snow in winter. Amazing oasis as not far beyond that the country flattened out completely and we then sped past many trucks carrying sugar beets to a sugar processing factory. And just about everything else in sight as our driver deviated just slightly from the legendary, take your time about everything, Moroccan living.

 

 

We enjoyed a long chat with our wandering Italian Clos des Arts riad hosts who had spent many years in Africa before getting into the riad business. In the late evening we made a short walk to the main square of Marrakech but did not linger long as we were buggered and suffering from enough of the pressures within medinas. For those not familiar with riads, they are well hidden behind street walls (most places have no windows to streets) with rooms located around an open garden or sitting area complete with central fountain and sitting and dining areas. Tranquil, with bedlam just outside the door. Heaven for some.

 

 

By the next morning we were slower still with both having a touch of food poisoning probably from the restaurant(!) in the town where we had lunch the day before but fortunately we were recovering by the end of the day. The day tour of the medina was one step after the other but we did take most of the history lesson in (we think). A light dinner then followed in the new town and then the day was over.

 

 

Next day we were heading for the finishing line at Casablanca. You must remember this; that Casablanca is over 4 million people with a very cosmopolitan feel about it. Women in modern dress and the beach area where we stayed was a mass of families enjoying their weekend outing. Western visitors tend to avoid Casablanca as it is just another city but for us it helped to get a feel for the balance of where Morocco is heading. Casablanca and Rabat are different from the older culturally conservative cities of Fez and Marrakech. Casablanca has the world's third biggest mosque and one of the few in Morocco that accepts western visitors. Our tour there was really interesting and the place has a very elegant and rich feel about it. Opening roof, in built audio systems, venetian chandeliers and a beautiful arabic creation of unknown cost and built in 6 years, often 24 hours a day!

 

 

 

On our drive into Casablanca we also briefly stopped in El Jadida which has an old Portuguese fort with an underground cistern to rival Justinian's in Istanbul. One would say a photographer's paradise

 

 

For out last Moroccan evening we dined with locals, enjoying our fish with Yvonne anxiously awaiting a promised belly dancer who turned out to be not that great or perhaps still learning. Try as she might like to see it that way, Morocco is not as sexist as she thought it might be, it seems.

All in all we thoroughly enjoyed Morocco and we will now watch with greater interest developments in a growing country, proud of its heritage.

 

We now head back to Spain for our next learning experience.

Morocco first blush

 

Writing this in Fez after our first full day here and two days in Morocco. The cultural change from Europe is taking some effort. First a big weather change from our recent wet Spain and Portugal experiences. Second, a big language change even though French is widely spoken here. And an adjustment from free wheeling to tour guide activity, even if there are only two in this group.

 

As always with this travel, you quickly have to get used to operations within operations and the all powerful tour guide who guides you to avoid pitfalls, chooses eating places, chooses sites and timings for the days as well as the endless small negotiations he makes for us. A bit like being back at school really and not in control with what is really going on.

 

So given that, what has happened and what do we think?

 

 

First impressions include: an emerging third world country still carrying on from almost medieval traditions and living; modern cars down to donkey and horses; vibrant and happy groups of young modern people; overall pride in country; fairly high security almost everywhere, especially near royal facilities; good food; lovely riads; tourist numbers might be down.

 

Volubilis Roman ruins were fabulous although we were a tad warm in the early afternoon sun and we were being sorely tested in Greek/Roman/Carthegian/African history. Could almost see Russell Crowe coming down through the triumphal arch.

 

Yes, there are some Syrian refugees about and the overall attitude seems to be indifferent thus far. We only see those brave enough to seek money at traffic intersections and we do not know how much increase of police activity is due to refugees. So we have no idea of how much of a problem it is. Our driver is also very careful about police radar traps that seem to be everywhere.

 

 

 

 

Fez, as we know, is a marvel captured in time and the senses were rapidly exploding as Momo our guide began with a history lesson and ended with taking us out of the absolute maze of the medina. Endlessly exposed to the full gamit of shopkeepers as we were giving briefings on leather, embroidery, woodwork, ceramics, tile making, buchery, spices, carpets and how life goes within the medina. Quite mind blowing really and we managed to escape with just a single purchase. How the people really get on in there, heavens knows. In places we were on streets just a metre or so wide and apart from the occasional donkey load, the whole area is pedestrianised. We were there almost five hours.

 

 

We enjoyed a great lunch within the medina at a restaurant I will never be able to find again. What lies beyond the single street facing door of these places?

 

By the end of the day we were ready for our senior travellers rest in Riad Myra, our home in Fez.

It is now the next day and a rest day for us. Yvonne is taking that very literally and would like to remain within the riad walls. Randall would like a bit of a wander around to see what he can see. It is hot of course so a little group unrest ensures as Yvonne plays for time by analysing prospective pics for the blog. To see if we can engage better with our hosts we take a morning cooking class. This works out very well and we enjoyed the experience and eat the results.

 

 

 

Whether we get to take the afternoon city explorers walk for two is a question to be answered in the next blog.

Together again

After uneventful flights, the tired pilgrim from Santiago de Compostella and the relaxed artist in residence of downtown Olhao in the gloriously sunny Algarve met up at Marid airport. Wow! People everywhere and Madrid seemed to be jumping.  

 

Not much on with just Bruce Springstein and his band plus some European soccer final between the Barcelona and Seville teams. We have an extra 2000 security types on duty and designated gathering points for supporters. Helicopters drifting overhead checking out the scene. Madrid is in party mode and the ambiance, despite numbers, is relaxed. And things will jump up further by next weekend when the two Madrid teams line up for the European Cup League final in Milan. But we will be long gone by then. We even thought we saw the Real Madrid coach just wandering along like any other tourist in town.

 

 

 

As far as the walk is concerned, the second half involved longer days/distances and things were more complicated as Randall picked up a cold along the way. Despite that, all went well and the group thoroughly enjoyed almost all of it. One or two meals not up to scratch and one hostel hostess who would do Hitler proud. But nothing could detract from the simple pleasure of walking an ancient trail following where people have been tramping for over 1000 years. As the group got closer to Santiago de Compostella they met more and more fellow travellers and had some interesting conversations as they went along.

 

 

Meanwhile in the heavenly south of Portugal the artist in residence operated in a completely different space. 

 

After a 7 hour train trip Yvonne finally arrived in Olhao. A not so small fishing village, but away from the tourist scene. Her room was on the rooftop of the Art School with views over the rooftops of the town and a swimming pool outside the door, which she was not likely to use.

 

 

Yvonne was quickly able to find her way out to the sea front from the lodgings and she wandered around the town, up and down alley ways and one way little streets. The town is very old and many vacant and neglected buildings around. Deciding to return home, it took her an hour to find the way through the maze of alley ways.

 

Yvonne had arrived two days early so she met the art group finishing their week with a fantastic Irish artist, and was invited to join them. They were a mixed group of Irish, American, English, Mauritis and South African. Lovely people who had had a week of rain and more rain, so only brief trips outdoors.

 

Yvonne's group was luckier as after three days the weather settled down and they were able to go out to sketch and paint on the Armona Island, the Ria Formosa national park and the market.

There is a permanent fruit and vegetable and fish markets in Olhoa, but on Saturday the travelling market comes to town and so does most of Portugal. It was impossible to get good photographs for all the people, never mind sitting and sketching and painting. However the seafood market is just amazing. She had never seen such an array of fish and shell fish.

 

 

 

The lead artist was English and therefore all English students. An interesting group of people with sons, daughters and other family living in Australia and South Africa. The group dined in for the week except on the weekend when the young hostess was given the time off. The seafood menu in restaurants was very extensive. They thoroughly enjoyed a huge fish between 6 one night.

 

With many outdoor sketches, more knowledge and five paintings completed, Yvonne's course ended. She had an extra two days to fill in and so she visited Vila Real Santo Antonio on the Portuguese/Spanish border and Tavira. By the end our new resident artist was feeling like a local and very at home.

 

So as we write this in Madrid we have re-visited the Prado and Thyssen galleries whilst enjoying life in central Madrid. For reasons we did not understand but could enjoy, there were seriously good artists painting away in the gardens whilst a period military drum and whistle band marched up and down to entertain passers by like us

 

 

But in reality these last few days are all about making sure we are on the ball again and ready for Morocco and a new and different experience.

The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain

For over 10 days without even a glimpse of sunshine, the duo struggled bravely on. Yvonne trained from Porto to her artistic haven in a small village outside Faro in the south whilst Randall slogged out the kilometres on foot heading for Santiago de Compostella. But in both places our heroes were being climatically tested. It would be an understatement to say that we were surprised by the weather.

This blog necessarily focusses on the walk as the artist cannot now be interrupted in her work to capture the essence of Portugal in watercolour.

As I write this in Tui on the Spain-Portugal border, the sun is finally showing itself. Over the five walk days we have mainly been in very light drizzle with constant coats on, coats off mode. The weather has mostly been cool. There are quite a few fellow pilgrims on this Portuguese Caminho which we believe is growing in numbers each year. Good for local business and in fact better supported that way than we have seen in France.

We meet all sorts of people from all over the planet but including a fairly high proportion of baby boomers and even an old fellow over 80 who we passed sprinting along a couple of days back.

Accommodation has been good, if variable, food has been copious if basic and the people good. Roman bridges and Roman roads are plentiful as is the mud and water, water everywhere. We average about 20 kms each day and we are all in good spirits as we fix the world during the many discussions along the way.

Anyway, what else could we be doing if we were not here?