P.X. RULES!!!

PX is Pedro Ximinez, one of the finest (and powerful) wines you can have.  They serve it in tiny cups.  The glasses are to regular wine glasses as espresso cups are to regular coffee cups.  Sweet like a good port, but not sticky sweet.  Two servings could knock you on your ass, I'm figuring, but one gives you a gentle functional buzz.

But more on that a little later.

Today was Cordoba and the Mosque there.  We were in a tour group of 25, led by a multi-lingual guide.  We were from all over the world:  US, Belgium, Paris, Brazil, Holland, Italy, and a couple dressed in traditional Muslim garb, though I don't know what country they were from.  The tour guide gave each speech 3 times, once in Spanish, once in English, once in French and that seemed to cover everyone.

It was historic and interesting, though I can't say I got a lot out of the tour.  Our guide's accent was just a tad too strong for me to follow along.  So I started taking photos.  Of this and that and particularly of a huge tree that had to be just hundreds of years old.  And that's when I took too long.......and lost the tour.  Oh me oh my.  I thought Gene & I would be able to catch up, but they took a turn and then the streets just turned this way and that and there were sooo many other tour groups and they all start looking alike and....... oh well.

So I figured: 1) no law says you HAVE TO stay with the tour, 2) we didn't miss the bus back to Sevilla, just the tour, 3) I'm smart enough to read my guide book and learn about the Mosque on my own, 4) hell, I'm smart enough to tour the damn Mosque on my own.

And so we did.  My only consequence was having to pay an additional entry fee to the Mosque since I wasn't part of a tour group.  Oh well again.  The upside of losing the tour was the opptorunity to meet a splendid and funny British couple with whom we shared stories about our travels and overwhelming opulence some of the displays in the Mosque -- something we could not have done with the lock-step of following a guide.

From there we wandered through the marketplace and stumbled into a wonderful restaurant called Bodegas Mezquita and had what we've decided is the best Spanish meal of the entire trip.  Start with Andelusian Gaspacho which easily matches the recipe I have and Cordoba-style cod over what looked like a fabulous ratatouille.  We chatted with the waiter and praised the food and he brought us some eggplant fried in a honey sauce.  Then he brought out the Pedro Ximinez wine, which is the basis for the honey sauce.  And then we went next door and bought a bottle of the stuff.  Oh yum yum.

I'm getting "server rejected" messages to all my uploaded photos.  I'll try tomorrow.

Gene has discovered a bike conference here called "Velocity 2011".  He is chomping at the bit.  He has rented a bike and will try to attend in the morning.  I will shop.  After 2 weeks of constant "together" touring, we will both be very happy.  It is a healthy thing to do.

Mama mia!! thatsa spicy meata --- whoops wrong country

When I get home, I'm not gonna have meatballs for a month.  I keep having them here.  And I keep having them here because "albondigas" is one of the few words I know for Spanish foods, so when I'm really hungry and don't want to experiment, I go with that.

And I've learned that it's "al-BON-digas" and not "albon-DI-gas". 

So that's progress.

So when you think about it, what's really wrong with using a Segway anyhow?

I survived the bike tour.  Yay!  It almost didn't happen because Spain doesn't like to put street signs up apparently and we are in a section of town where one wrong move puts you 4 blocks away from where you want to be with dead-ends all around.  In fact, the only reason we finally made the bike tour was because the leader came looking for us and we linked up, so all was well.

It was a nice way to see Seville, my training -- going to the gym, biking over there, etc -- paid off and I was able to keep up pretty well.  We were with another couple from Holland.  They bike all the time and I got the impression they thought I was a lazy-ass American.  Kept calling me "Mrs. Armstrong".  Har har f***kin' har. 

Anyway, my bike was cool.  Seat was low -- maybe too low, but that allowed me to push off with my foot and if we went slow enough and I was unsteady, I could just move the bike along by walking.  (let that image wash over you for a while as I'm doing right now).  The other good thing (don't tell Gene) was that the bike shop didn't have helmets available, so we rode with the breeze through our hair. 

I know, I know, but it was fun being like a kid again.

My favorite spot was when we tried to go down a very narrow alley and some kind of walking tour was coming up the alley -- walking tour meets bike tour.  Never a dull moment.  But here are a couple of nice shots from the bike tour:

The tour was a great way to see Seville.  It is a beautiful old city. 

The Beginning of the End

We are in Seville.  It is quiet.  As we mentioned, it was like someone flipped a switch.  Las Fallas was over?  Constant firecrackers were over.  From 60 to 0.  Overnight.  Quiet.  Amazing.

Took a little time getting to our hotel.  The cab dropped us off and told us we had to walk the rest of the way because the streets were too narrow for a car.  He was right.  And no one could tell us where the street we were looking for was or had heard of the hotel.  I did have a wonderfully interesting experience asking for help in Spanish.  Guy didn't speak English and didn't speak Spanish well either.  Said to me "Parlez-vous francais".  !!!!!!!  Why yes, yes I do!!!!  "un peu".  And so he told me in French where another hotel was that would probably know of ours and could help.  Man, do I feel inter-continental or what!?!

But I found the street before we needed to do that.  This was the hardest hotel to get to and the absolute most charming.  Building must be a couple hundred years old, but with modern upgrades inside (like wifi for starters).  Photos tomorrow because the area we will spend our final 3 days in is sooo charming!

Tomorrow!  The infamous bike ride I trained for.  Tuesday, the only "tour" we are taking -- to Cordoba and a huge mosque.  Wednesday on our own in Seville, Thursday, back to Madrid.

Hasta luego, kids!

Ninots and the Respect They Get


Photos of some typical ninots

This was the this year's winner.  If I read the banner correctly, it may have been their 2nd win in a row.





This gives a good idea of how tall some of these are

 And the respect they ultimately receive.  To tell you the truth, they started to look alike and I started to get turned around, so I don't think I have a photo of the one we watched get burned.  But never mind.  It was BIG, it was pretty cool and here is its fate:

The firecrackers set it off

About 10 minutes later

About 20 minutes later.  They have this down to a science and it doesn't take long.

Las Fallas Finale.

This is the children's winner.  It got taken away to be burned in a "special" place in the main square.

I'm inserting this video (hope this works) to show you the children's ninot we watched burn down and to give you a quick taste of the continuous firecracker noise that went on ALL NIGHT.  Oy.  I'm enjoying the quiet.

And here's the respect they show this swell ninot:

It just got hit with the firecrackers and caught fire, shooting off the fireworks scattered throughout the display



About 10 minutes later



I went back about an hour later and got this

Las Fallas Photos

So here are pictures of the finale.  First off, correction:  it wasn't a FIREMEN'S parade.  It was a FIRE parade.  Which explains why no one felt guilty shooting sparklers into the air which drifted over the crowd. 

So first Parade photos to kick off our evening

Backing up a little, here are some photos of the various parades we watched -- whether we wanted to or not.  Seriously, it was like having to stop for a freight train coming through.  First though, is this not the absolute sweetest photo of a little Spanish girl EVAH???



Love the Princess Leia hair!  You could buy cardboard cutouts for your head -- like the crowns at hamburger joints that mimicked the hair.  I wanted one sooo bad, but couldn't find a vendor.



Look closely at that right hand -- you'll see the lit cigarette.  One of my favorite participants.  Prolly woulda done the same thing when I was a smoker.  These parades go one forever!!  Too long to go without a smoke.