Friday 31 October 2008

leaving La Alberca

We've had a fantastic and inspiring time on the Pueblo Ingles week at La Alberca, but it's nearly time to say goodbye. Tonight is the last night, so naturally we're having a big party - lots of drinking and dancing to a mix of Spanish and English pop music. It's been a fantastic week, we've met so many wonderful people, both English and Spanish speaking, and have had fantastic weather for the most part allowing us to appreciate the beautiful countryside.


We start our TEFL course in Barcelona on Monday, but first we're going to spend a couple of nights in Madrid with our new friend Belen. However, assuming they let us, we suspect we'll be back at Pueblo Ingles in the not too distant future.

Saturday 25 October 2008

Speaking for our supper

Kate and I are currently staying in a beautiful 4star Hotel just outside the picturesque village of La Alberca, high in the Sierra del Gredo to the west of Madrid. We are sharing a two-bedroomed en suite cottage with a lovely Madrilena called Olga, who is here to improve her English.

We aren't paying for anything (except the odd beer from the bar). Instead we are, quite literally, talking for our supper. Along with a dozen other "Anglos" (in this case Americans, Canadians and English) we are here to talk to another dozen or so Spanish (and one Portuguese) people who want to improve their English. This is Pueblo Ingles.

This morning I've had hour-long one-to-one conversations with Olga, who is a very high powered business executive it seems, Jaime, a Basque speaking advertising executive working in Madrid, and Daniel, who works in telecommunications solutions. The telecommunications industry is well represented here. I'm one of the youngest, but it doesn't seem to matter. Everyone here is charming, friendly and interesting, and naturally Kate - with her welcoming smile and BBC-honed enunciation - is going down a storm.

It's now siesta time - that's actually on the schedule! - so I'm going to take advantage; we've got more activities scheduled tonight!

Pena de Francia

As we were early for Pueblo Ingles we decided to go up the local mountain for the stunning views.

Thursday 23 October 2008

Segovia

When we first arrived in Spain last May, Miguel told us we'd be daft to pass up the opportunity to visit Segovia. While we were sitting in the kitchen of his house near Bilbao he enthusiastically recommended places in Spain to visit and further whetted our appetites by showing us photos he'd taken during his own forays in his homeland. Miguel told us as impressive as the architecture and historic remains are in other parts of the world, Spain can almost always match or better them. Including, he said, cathedrals and Roman ruins.

For a modest-sized place, Segovia seems to be trying to justify Miguel's Spanish pride all on its own. Its importance has waxed and waned over the centuries, but in the course of its history, it's been equipped with an imposing gothic cathedral, a fairytale castle (Walt Disney based his iconic turrets on the Alcazar) and an almost intact Roman aqueduct. Not to mention the various monastery, church and old synagogue buildings, whose towers and spires add their elegance to the Segovia's cobbled streets, colonnades and half-timbered houses.

Of the various monuments, I think Theo and I liked the aqueduct best. A simple, yet epic design, you often come across it unexpectedly by turning a corner in a random street. Or you cross and re-cross beneath it as it stretches between roadways and buildings, until it reaches its zenith in a kind of soaring, arched splendour over the Plaza de Azoguejo. It is 800 metres long in total, is 30 metres at its highest point and was built without mortar or cement. It doesn't carry water any more, but it really is a sight to behold and as Theo and Miguel both observed, it easily rivals Italy's own remnants of the Roman age.

The Alcazar is very pretty - especially when set against a glorious sunset or perfect blue sky (we were lucky enough to catch it in both settings), but it lacks the authenticity of the aqueduct, especially when you realise it was entirely reconstructed in the 19th century in an even more stylised version of the original. It's not surprising old Walt was so keen to adopt it for Disneyland.

Other than its splendid sights, Segovia also endeared itself to us by being generally cheap. Or should that be good value for money? Giving up on finding an eatery that opened on Wednesday nights and served some vegetarian food, we opted to fill ourselves up with beer and tapas. Which we did for less than 7 euros the lot. Bargain!

Wednesday 22 October 2008

Andorra

Andorra, the 21st and last country that we've visited on our 6 month long tour around Europe, suffers somewhat by comparison with where we've been before. This tiny country (which calls itself a Principality even though it is now a democratic republic and was formerly an episcopality) is sandwiched quite neatly between France and Spain. So neatly in fact that you don't notice any disruption to the outline of either country, which I'm sure is one of the reasons why it still exists. It's also the only country where Catalan is the official language.

Having been to all the other European micro-states, it seemed silly not to satisfy our curiosity and pass through Andorra on our way to La Alberca, especially as, of all the micro-states, Andorra is the most curious. Squashed between two powerful neighbours, both with rival claims to sovereignty - France through the Count of Foix and Spain through the Bishop of La Seu d'Urgell - you would have thought it would have ended up being partitioned like Navarre, another Pyrranean state. Instead the joint sovereignty arrangement lasted all the way from 1278 right through to a referendum that lead to formal independence in 1993. I could only come up with Anglo-Eygptian Sudan when trying to think of other joint-sovereignty arrangements, but that didn't last a century and can hardly compete.
I'm sure Andorra was quite pretty once, and indeed the roads into the country from both France and Spain offer spectacular views as their hairpin their way up the Pyrenees through woods turning red and gold (on the French side; on the Spanish side they were still a lush green). Once inside the country, however, the views are marred by tangles of cable cars and urban sprawl.

Andorra is basically a series of steep river valleys in the middle of which sits the capital, Andorra la Vella, and ski slopes. The bland apartment blocks and bargain-stuffed shops (Andorra has a sales tax of only 4%) hem in the road, which only increases the claustrophobic feeling the steep valley walls create. A European cul-de-sac until the 20th century, Andorra took off as a smugglers' crossroads during the Spanish Civil War and WWII, and since then it seems to have been trying to turn itself into the world's biggest duty free hall. Ironic really, seeing as it doesn't have an airport.

We stopped for a coffee and then bought some supplies in one of the supermarkets before having the novel experience of a customers officer examining Sheena and quizzing us on our purchases - we've been asked before (Switzerland, Croatia), but nobody has ever bothered to look thus far! Our three bottles of port and slab of beers didn't qualify as contraband so within a few minutes we were back in Spain.

Sunday 19 October 2008

Learning to speak English

Kate and I have been accepted on a CELTA Teaching English as a Foreign Language course in Barcelona, starting November 3rd. So for the past week we've been trying to learn how to speak English!

Luckily we're staying with Kate's mother Cathy this week who is (like my Mum actually) a TEFL teacher, so she's been helping us with our pre-course homework. 6 months on the road without having to work have made this a bit of a culture shock, but Cathy has more or less guided us through the 3rd conditional, phrasal verbs and progressive tenses.

Next week we're off to warm up our language skills a bit more, spending a week in a four star hotel (expenses paid) near Salamanca talking English to Spanish learners on a Pueblo Ingles week. Should get us in the mood.

Then a month in Barcelona, lodging with a German translator, working 9 to 5. Culture shock alert! We're quite excited though.

Wednesday 15 October 2008

Underground Railroad

http://www.the-fly.co.uk/words/reviews/live-reviews/3208/underground-railroad

We went up to Toulouse yesterday to see Underground Railroad a French band we know quite well; I once organised a UK tour for them. My review for The Fly is above - it was an ace show and wonderful to hang out with Raphael, Marion and JB again.

Turns out they are playing Barcelona next month - we'll probably see them there too!


Sunday 12 October 2008

The Vines



When we embarked on our travels more than 6 months ago, at the beginning of April, the landscape that greeted us here in France was full of fields dotted with brown stumps. Gradually, over the following weeks, a few touches of green appeared on them and now, as we return to France those leaves are slowly turning red and the heavy bunches of fruit are visible from the roads. They are of course the vines, and in a way they have marked our travels around Europe, a natural calendar charting the time scale of our trip.

Yesterday was my birthday, my 27th, but instead of a lazy day after 3 days of driving, we were up at 7 to take part in le vindage - grape picking. Jean-Christophe and Christiane are a little like a French version of the Larkins, except they have fewer chilren and probably pay their income tax. Their little farm about 5 minutes from Cathy's is a menagerie of donkeys, horses, chickens, ducks, patridges, pigeons and finches, while they grow sunflowers, grapes, oilseed and plums.



We and about a dozen other people - friends, family, neighbours - were helping them pick grapes for their own home-made red and rosé wines. There was no cash payment involved, just endless food and as much booze as was safe to drink while wielding a pair of secatuers. Beers were handed round the vines by way of mid-morning refreshment, while the four-course lunch was preceeded by copious potent apertifs of which Pa Larkin would have approved. Lunch itself was accompanied by the house vintage and afternoon tea (complete with pastry turned into a birthay cake for me) was washed down with sweet cider. When we were invited back for dinner (along with half the neighbourhood) and of course, more booze. Perfick!


The work itself wasn't hard - 3 hours in the warm morning sun then another one and a half in the afternoon when there were even more helpers got the job done.
Christophe stacked the crates on his forklift, emptied them into a machine to separate the grapes from the stems and got the fermentation process under way. Naturally all this was done in a very French way - everyone watching, momentarily taking charge or giving advice. Vastly entertaining for us though. All the gloom and doom in the news about the financial markets seems a world away from this rural idyll of helpful neighbours, home brew and rustic feasts. A perfick birthday.

Wednesday 8 October 2008

a bit of brimstone

Vesuvius might be a sleeping beast nowadays, but the area around the Bay of Naples is still volcanic, the west side in particular, which sits on a lava plateau. After spending the night in a campsite on the outskirts of Sorrento we decided we couldn't leave the area before getting a taste of some live volcano action.

Not far from the fishing town of Pozzuoli is the Solfatara volcano. Muttering "serenity, serenity..." to himself, Theo threaded Sheena through the Neapolitan vehicular nightmare and one wrong turning later, we were at the so-called Fields Of Fire.

It's not exactly a boiling caldera of molton lava, but Solfatara has some excellently bubbling mud flats, a few busy fumeroles and a pervading smell of sulphur. We were suitably fascinated by it all, although not as much as one lone Italian visitor for whom it was clearly more akin to a religious experience. She stood with closed eyes and a rapt expression, breathing in the swirling warm mists of malodorous vapours coming from the crater.


It's supposed to be therapeutic, but I'm not entirely convinced a chemical soup of arsenic, alum, sulphur and various hydrocarbons is really such a great thing to inhale. Still, there have been plenty of people in the past who've gone in for such a thing, as one of the sights at Solfatara is a now-derelict sauna building for people who wanted the full effect of all the thermal activity. The steam room at the Budapest public baths was about as much as Theo and I could endure, I don't think we'd have been first in the queue for the Solfatara sauna.

Tuesday 7 October 2008

Pompeii

We didn't get as far as the Amalfi coast. But we made it to the Bay of Naples where we witnessed the inspired lunacy of Neapolitan driving, the warmth and volatility of southern Italians and explored the ruins of ancient Pompeii.

Vesuvius, the volcano which dealt out such overwhelming destruction on Pompeii and its neighbour, Herculaneum, still looms over the bay but dormant for many centuries, it now appears lost in its own memories rather than a source of any present menace. It's hard to imagine the mountain spewing out pumice, poison gasses and pyroclastic clouds in the warm October sunshine. Nowadays, its summit tends to be wreathed in clouds rather than smoke and fire.
Pompeii's preserved mosaics, frescoes and statues are all pretty impressive. But it's the city as a whole which exercises the greatest fascination. The streets with their cart tracks, the grid layout and the rows of dwellings, ranging from public buildings to shops, villas, cafes and whorehouses. More than two thousand years after its ancient inhabitants met their violent deaths, Pompeii teems with tourists rather than residents and if you close your eyes, the bustle and voices help conjure up an idea of the city as it once was. Without the fake shutter sounds of digital cameras and the SMS alerts of the mobile phones, though.

Sunday 5 October 2008

here comes the sun... again

It's hard to believe that only a matter of days ago we were bundling on jumpers and coats before going out and once the sun had gone in we were making mist with our exhaled breaths.

Now, here we are in Italy again and with every kilometre we go south, the air feels warmer and we are back in our short-sleeves and sandals.

We have just visited Mantua, granted its UNESCO World Heritage status within the last four months and buzzing with Sunday afternoon crowds visiting a regional produce market. It made for a lovely pit-stop on our journey down to the Amalfi coast.

Having a little more time at our disposal before we're expected back in France and Spain, we've decided to explore a bit more of Italy. Last time we were in this part of the boot, the heat was almost unbearable and the grapes were just forming in tiny nubs along the lines of vines.

Back here in October, we are warm and relaxed rather than fried and frazzled and the vines, stripped of their fruit, are turning into shades of bright russet around us.

It also helps that this time our rear windscreen is intact, which means we can open the back door for extra ventilation and thus avoid the sauna effect whenever we want to cook anything. The fact that Theo's window winder has also been fixed is another small but important element in our overall comfort. Shame neither of those

Saturday 4 October 2008

Feeling a bit land-sick

After three days in Venice I'm starting to feel a bit land-sick; when I get back to our camp on the Lido di Jesolo I feel like I'm still at sea, swaying a bit to remembered waves and generally feeling a bit woozy. The cold I have is playing havoc with my ear canal and that probably isn't helping, though strangely I feel fine when actually on the vaporetti or Venice proper. Odd.

Making best use of our 72-hour travel passes we've ridden the boat-busses (that's what the vaporretti are) all across the lagoon, visiting not only the six sestiere of Venice, but also the Lido di Venezia, Burano and Murano, other inhabited islands in the lagoon. In Venice itself I think we both liked the Carnareggio district best; not quite so spectacular as other areas, though still beautiful, we at least stood a chance there of escaping the worst of the crowds and finding a reasonably priced drink. Early October has been a beautiful time to visit, with brilliantly huge skies and warm sunshine and if there was sometimes a stiff breeze on the sea front, then we could always find a still, calm spot alongside one of the inner canals. We've done touristy things - looking around the spectacular Doge's Palace and St Mark's Cathedral, crossing the Rialto and riding a Traghetto - the 50 cent, 2 minute grand canal crossing in a gondola piloted by trainees - the budget gondola experience! But mostly we just saw Venice - on foot and on the boats, a sight to see and a marvel to gawp at.

This evening we were treated to the spectacle of two massive cruise ships being tugged down the Guidecca. As the sun set over the lagoon, lighting up the jagged peaks of the Dolomites, our vaporretto kept an easy pace with one of them all the way back to Jesolo. The silhouetted shapes lining the cruiser's rails probably had an amazing view of Venice, but I hope they had a chance to look up close too.

Thursday 2 October 2008

That Sinking Feeling

If I'm honest, I expected to be severely disappointed by Venice. I suspected it would be an overpriced, overcrowded tourist trap, existing only to feed the curiosity of its millions of visitors. In some respects, that is a reasonable summary. But it doesn't do Venice - the true city of Venice - justice. What surprised me most wasn't how touristy Venice is, but how touristy it isn't.

Oh yes, if you confine your wanderings to the area around Piazza San Marco, Ponte Rialto and all the other sights, you will be continually reminded of the main source of Venice's income. But Theo and I found ourselves quite quickly away from The Grand Canal and inside an area where ordinary corner shops sell ordinary groceries, where a group of children were playing football on a sports court and the people sitting drinking spritzis outside the slightly scruffy cafes were locals enjoying a gentle sundowner after work.

But no matter how ordinary are the everyday lives of its citizens, Venice is still, inescapably, like a film-set. The place where we chose to drink limonata and caffee macchiato may have looked at first glance like many a high street in many a European city, but the fact that it began, ended and was bounded by canals immediately set it apart. Venice is exotic and ridiculously picturesque, even in the districts where graffiti, dog-walkers and fast-food are more commonly found than churches in the High Renaissance style.

The whole city has a feeing of elegant decay as centuries-old buildings lean towards the sea, which is always, always ready to receive them once their resistance to nature has crumbled away. And one day, the sea will have its way again. We watched epic earthworks taking shape around the lagoon as man tries to outwit the rising water with multi-million pound feats of engineering. But one day the islands of Venice will surely be overwhelmed as climate change takes its toll. I just hope it isn't in my lifetime.

Wednesday 1 October 2008

North American Chums

Lil and B are not Americans. They were, back when they first met at Woodstock in 1969, B using the awesome chat up line of "have you got any uppers?" However, a few years later they were Canadians, and now they're in Italy for a month and may even meet up with some distant relatives they didn't know they had down in Sicily. But yes, distinctly Canadian and keen to make the distinction, as had Thor, Monica and Matt back in Bremen. But regardless of their distinct North American identity, B and Lil are a lovely, chatty couple and we were very pleased our tiny table in the tiny Venetian Pleasure Cafe ("good things come in little packages") was pressed up next to their tiny table.

We had been equally pleased when we bumped into the International Student Brigade again on the shores of Lake Bled, having first met them up the top of the Ljubljana Castle the day before. Two of the Americans in their midst, Noah and Keith, promptly gave us their email addresses and told us to drop them a line if we fancied a trip to Trieste. Which we did, so a few days later we met up with both of them in Trieste's stunning Piazza Dell'Unita and were treated to a guided tour of the city plus a blagged pizza in the University Cafeteria.


Both Northern boys from up near the Canadian border (Keith from Montana, Noah from Vermont) they were full of enthusiasm for their new situation and stunned to find out how popular Americans are in Italy. (This may have had something to do with the fact that Trieste only remained Italian after World War Two thanks to the presence of Allied forces, otherwise the city - previously Venetian, then Hapsburg - might have been absorbed into Yugoslavia along with the rest of Istria.) We had a great evening hanging out with them and, depending on their travel plans, may very well end up seeing them again.