Espana Sola: Wandering and Wondering; and More on Fear

I’ve just found a loo in the crowds around the Mesquita and I have to laugh. There are 4 other people sitting with their cafe con leche, queued to use the loo. One lovely guy, English, acting as the loo guide ( the note on the door of this not very Spanish looking cafe states firmly no coffee no loo). He is telling people gently when it’s their turn, and warning them to take some tissues from the nearby table. There is is no toilet paper.

Lots of tissue boxes lined up . I didn’t see them until the guy told me.

I’m on my way to the Jewish quarter as the Mezquita is very busy, best I come earlier tomorrow.

I delayed myself this morning . Or rather, the early morning brought with it a series of disturbances : where is my room key ? Did I drop it in the shower? Where is the small shampoo? Where have my only other pair of undies gone? Not important items perhaps but disappearances usually trigger a low level fear, doubt creeps in.

Then I start out and enjoy just walking through winding streets towards the Mesquita .I check out some buildings and gardens on the way, until , inevitably, I need the loo. And there are no uncrowded, reasonably priced cafes in sight .

So I’ve found Pepitas, a coffee, and the loo.

Now for the Jewish Quarter.

I’m having a wonderful time wandering . I get to the Jewish synague but don’t join the long queue waiting to go in . Tomorrow early .

The Casa de Sefarad, a Museum and house of memories is dedicated to the memory of those Jews who lived in Cordoba and were persecuted and forced to leave. A 14C Jewish house in Calle Judias with very moving and clear displays in the rooms around a central patio, it was established in 2004 as a centre of Sefardic culture, history and tradition.. The historic records run alongside an account of the destruction of books from Roman times, onwards and the persecution and execution of thinkers and writers in all cultures. The highlight for me was the series of Sefardic chants delivered solo and unaccompanied in perfect harmony.

Maimonides, leading figure in Medieval Jewish thought.The huge library he established was destroyed by the Inquisition
Biblioclasm , Final stage defined by Umberto Ecco is the burning of books .
William Tyndale who made the first translation of the Rnglish bible from the Latin and Greek In 1536 all but 2 copies were burnt . And later Tyndale was burned too.

I also just walked into several patios . This week in Cordoba is the Fiesta de Los Patios. But more on patios in a different post. There’s so much here to take in . Mostly I’m just blown away at the richness and harmony of the Sefardic culture , the way they managed to hold onto that culture through centuries of persecution, despite the huge fear that must have played out constantly in their lives.

I’m a bit embarrassed now about the account of minor mishaps and silly fears recounted in the opening of this blog.

I’m so mindful of the fact that the Jewish community lived in Cordoba harmoniously under the Arab Caliphate for 2 Centuties.The Golden Age of Sefardic culture in Spain.

This history of the Jewish preserved identity is a highly emotional storytelling that connects all our destinations.

That’s why , despite the crowds, I’m going back inside the walls of this thronging, absolutely glowing Jewish quarter.

Espana Sola. Churros and Weekend Preparations at Plaza la Corredera

Plaza la Corredera .I’m just around the corner from here

It’s only Thursday but there’s already an air of expectation, and more movement in this plaza. I was woken this morning by what sounded like major demolition, but it was only two huge trucks, a large trolley staked high with crates and two men trying to manoeuvre the trucks in the narrow space while walkers squeezed past. The two men were issuing directions to each other.

My room looks down on the passage to the Plaza de la Corredera and actually I love it, and the sounds of people passing, buying ice creams in the place directly opposite or just talking, and arguing later at night.

Looking down on passing life

But I suspect another level of activity is on its way for the weekend. There’s what could be a stage set up and the large TV outside where people watch soccer games will be on. Oh well.

They must have made it into the plaza as there are trucks here being unloaded.

A faint sun is showing and it’s a bit warmer. I’ve jobs to do today. In the meantime I’m drinking my cafe con leche and eating churros.

I’m also looking more closely at this bar .

Don’t know exactly but relates to story in the cutting about a past owner and poet
So Maripaz is famous for its churros

I started writing this as I am flooded with stories and photos from a full day yesterday . I’m still processing the Mesquita. But even what starts off as simple writing twists itself round, or maybe I twist it around as I take in more; so I’m stopping now and not exploring the stories here of Garcia Calvo and the churros ? that seduced him or “ with what Garcia portrays her.. “ ( the danger of only getting bits of the language). Enough that this Bar Maripaz was established in 1993 and the churros, I guess originally baked by Garcia Calvo, have been revived with this plaza ( which dates from 1600s).

Clapping in La Corredera. The music has started and the sun is bright. Off to do my jobs before exploring some more of this maze of a city, and the edges of the thickly layered stories.

Espana Sola: An Evening in Cordoba

Well I’m breaking one of my rules . Just because I’m so excited to have found my dream Spanish accomodation, and it’s just 2 minutes away from here where I’m having a second, very good, red wine. One of my rules is only one drink at night. So I can find my way back to my room and work the many locks on the way.

But this tavern was appealing . I was returning from a long walk to the Puente Romana in Cordoba and tired of pan y queso in what look like cheaper bars ( hard being vegetarian in Spain). I thought well why not ? This will make a good blog. So here’s my food, red wine and two tapas:

A fish combination ( not fried) and ensaladilla Rusa

And delicious. No queso, not too much pan and even the potato salad with the exotic name is tasty. E12 in total for decent food, good red wine and the luxury of observing . The waiters are smiley and healthy looking, the clientele mainly Spanish speaking . It’s 10.30 now and the place has filled up fast .

On the way here I walked to the Puente de Romana and over the other side, back over the rather murky Guadalquivir river, around the Medquita area heaving with tourists and back to the Plaza de la Corredera where I’m staying for the rest of this week.

I looked in at a few of the patios. The Fiesta de la Patios Cordoba is on for a week. There are 6! routes to follow so I’ll be busy .

But this Taberna is full right now and it’s time for me to go. I pay the bill, grab a bottle of water from the place opposite, check out the jazz place next door, and walk to my place. Push the main door as instructed, insert key in lock of next door. Easy. Up the stairs to third floor. Remember the hidden step just in front of my door.

I still feel quesy on stairs
But these are mild compared to the stairs in Quentar
And key works first go

I’m into my room.

I can’t resist a look outside on the patio . People passing below and voices. But the moon is out and it’s time to sleep .

Diario de Espana Sola:A Purple Haze Descending

I never ever want to see purple again. Maybe it’s lilac, or violet, but unfortunately my shirt and jacket hanging around this small but clean room match the decor. It’s a cloudy day in Ronda and no sun streaming through the window to lift the shadows. So I’m sinking into the haze.

I’m not really complaining? This is just one moment on my solo journey and, solo or not, rooms are a matter of a lottery. Hotel de Los Reyes has an 8 on Booking.com. and is comfortable, clean, has pleasant staff and only Las Llaves to ONE lock, my room . But that room makes a good photo for my blog.

My purple room in Hotel de Los Reyes Ronda

Later :

This set out to be a series of entries , recounting travel experiences from the perspective of a solo older female writer, in a country which she has always held close to her heart. Sola Espana. So I’m reflecting as I go .Not a real travelogue. Dear reader, if you’re reading this, your narrator is struggling at times .

But I’ve left that purple room this afternoon, metaphorically. I’ve stopped worrying about a message from the next accomodation and re -reading the reviews . I’ve successfully found a bank machine that didn’t chew up my travel card, bought lunch at the supermercado, found out how to share my posts on social media easily. And had cafe con leche and tostada at a very quiet Spanish bar away from this busy centre.

E3 for breakfast , and pleasant service

The only job I have left is to book my train back to Cordoba on Monday.

So this room is brightening and the sun is out, the cold wind has lessened. It’s still purple, or lilac, and I’m still me. But another fear gone. And I’m off to explore a 13 C to 17C palace, Palacio Mondragon and its gardens at the top of a cliff overlooking Ronda valley.

And here I am on my way

Espana Sola. On the Road Again. But the Train Road; and Not a Kerouac Experience

Sitting in the train cafe gulping down a cafe con leche after a wended way from my accomodation the opposite side of Cordoba, I’m pondering again. My last blog was about fear and confronting change (On Being Brave….). More on this theme.

My Cordoba place. Bye
And thank you Pilar for your your kind welcome in your muy hermosa casa

This blog will not have many photos.I have been preoccupied with getting my rucksack down the steep stairs safely, unlocking doors, finding my way, and, now, watching for train times and sudden changes .

I just looked at other people in this station cafe and they seem as harassed as I feel. Only many of them have those wheelie suitcases they’ve dragged all the way along the cobbled streets of Cordoba. All tentatively ordering a coffee and eyes on the departures board glimpsed outside. All well dressed, mostly.

So has travelling changed or is it just that I’m older so find it more stressful/ difficult/ time consuming ? To begin at the beginning of my journey today : just to get to this platform no 5:

To return to my account of a typical morning departure. I won’t bother with the tale of negotiating the lethal staircase down from my otherwise quaint attic room with a backpack. I’m in good time ( allowing double expected time to walk the twisting disguised streets to the opposite end of Cordoba). There are now 3 doors to unlock before I head off. Not very good at this as I have to try each key in each lock.Yay, I’m out and now I’m finding my way with the help of Maps. A few wrong turns but I follow my nose. And there I am at Cordoba Train station. On time. Check board. On time. Check board. Delayed .Check board. Still same time. Check platform number again. Check ticket. Coffee.

And thats as far as I’ve got today. I’ve found the correct carriage. Some of them disguise their number behind an open sliding door. Correct seat. Ronda here I come.