2003 Northern Spain

Northern Spain 2003

Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a threeweek drive through Northern Spain, September 5-28, 2003. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2003.

Cover: Cathedral at SanHago de Compostela

Northern Spain and the Pilgrimage Routes to Santiago de Compostela September 5-28, 2003 Wai$ng at the airport for Iberia 6294 to Madrid, I thought back over the nine months that Jake had put into planning our first trip to Spain together. Visi$ng the Spanish Na$onal Tourist Office, consul$ng Michelin Red and Green Guides, reading books by Cees Nooteboom, Jeffrey Gitlitz, and Nancy Frey, and the seemingly endless emailing to restaurants and hotels had finally culminated in an i$nerary of amazing detail, thoughOully conceived and painstakingly planned. I looked out the window at our wai$ng aircraQ. It was a beau$ful fall day in Chicago and I hoped that we were

not leaving that perfect weather to face any more of the deadly heat that had recently caused thousands of deaths in Europe. The weather report for Madrid predicted temperatures in the 80s and I hoped that it would hold. I was roused from my reverie when a representa$ve from Iberia came over and informed us that the plane was oversold, and that we were going to be upgraded to Business Class. As we seWled into our plush leather seats I thought, “I’m not used to this” but confided to Jake that by the end of the flight I would probably be saying, “I could get used to this.”

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Saturday, September 6 In spite of ample legroom and a nice dinner with plenty of wine, it was a long night. We arrived at 7:30 AM local $me, not as rested as we had hoped, considering our luxurious seats. We nego$ated the subway from Barajas Airport to central Madrid and, undaunted by several flights of steps, wheeled our bags up to the front door of the Wes$n Palace. We were able to check in early and found that our friends Dagmar and Klaus Stark were already wai$ng for us. We would be traveling together for the next ten days. We decided not to waste any $me, and walked across the street togethr to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum where we meandered through the collec$on, par$cularly enjoying the Flemish and Germanic pain$ngs. The museum also has a large collec$on of impressionist and modern art that we did not find as interes$ng. Though there were many well-known ar$sts represented—Miro, Chagal, Picasso, Cezanne, Degas, Van Gogh and Monet among them—we tended to agree with a rather harsh review in Time Out Madrid that the museum “is a ragtag catchall of every kind of style put together without discrimina$on or an eye to quality.” We walked to the Plaza Major and got a bite of lunch at one of the outdoor cafes there. It wasn’t par$cularly good, but Klaus was introduced to gazpacho, a dish he was to frequently order during the remainder of the trip. We also had a chance to rest our feet and get caught up on news of mutual friends. As I was star$ng to feel the effects of lack of sleep on the flight I walked back to the hotel with the Starks while Jake went on to the Museo Arqueologico Nacional. The Starks decided to take a bus tour of the city and I fell into bed for a nap.

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Madrid

This evening at 9:30 we stepped out into the cool evening air and walked to dinner at La Terraza, a Michelin one-star restaurant on the fourth oor terrace of the beau$ful 19th century Casino of Madrid. The chef, a disciple of the legendary Ferran Adria, prepared his degusta$on menu for us. We took our $me as we savored each course of the three-hour meal. The evening was perfect and we enjoyed striking views of the illuminated buildings that surrounded us.

Although we did not leave the restaurant un$l nearly 1:00 AM, the streets were packed with strolling couples enjoying the beau$ful evening. As we walked towards the hotel, we marveled at the vibrancy of the Spanish lifestyle that we were just star$ng to experience.

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Sunday, September 7

Madrid

It was hard to get up and on our way this morning, but Jake had planned a busy day for us and there was no $me to waste. However, we were not nearly early enough. When we arrived at the Prado at 9:30, a line stretched far down the street, necessita$ng an hour wait to get in. It was the ďŹ nal day of a well-publicized Ti$an exhibit and a free admission day as well. The wait was understandable. We found it gra$fying to see so many people, many of them young, who were wai$ng to see the treasures of the Prado. We par$cularly enjoyed the 15th and 16th century Flemish ar$sts, as well as the works of Bosch, Durer, and Bruegel the Elder. We also marveled at the many pain$ngs of Goya and of Velasquez, including the laWer’s remarkable Las Meninas.

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While Jake went on a subway expedi$on to the arena to get bullfight $ckets, Dagmar, Klaus and I returned to the Wes$n Palace. Dagmar and I enjoyed a ladies’ lunch and a good chat under the hotel’s lovely Art Nouveau dome.

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In the late aQernoon, Jake and I set out on the Metro to the Bentas stop and the Plaza de Toros, where we watched six bullfights performed by three matadors. Jake was an experienced guide. He described the paseo, or entry promenade of the matadors and their teams. The fights had three phases: the ini$al passes with the large cape in which the matador judges the characteris$cs of the bull, the spear thrusts of the mounted picador and the placement of the banderillas (beribboned darts), and finally the mul$ple passes with the small cape and the final kill by the matador. At first

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I felt squeamish, but as I learned more, I was fascinated by this spectacle that has been a part of Spanish tradi$on since the Middle Ages. We returned on the Metro in $me to meet the Starks for dinner. Walking back to the Plaza Major, we looked for a spot for a casual meal. Klaus led us to the Casa Ciriaco, listed in his German guidebook as a place frequented by ar$sts. We discovered a simple place where we ordered shrimps, gazpacho, and a nice Spanish wine, and enjoyed lively conversa$on and warm camaraderie.

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Monday, September 8

Madrid

Early this morning we all set out for the Reyna Sophia Museum to see Picasso’s Guernica and other works by Dali, Miro, and Gris. The size of Picasso’s masterpiece overwhelms the viewer. One is mesmerized by its’ stark denuncia$on of the horrors of war that depicted the 1937 Nazi bombing of the liWle market town near Bilbao. AQer sharing a lunch of tapas and salads at an outdoor café, we went our separate ways. The Starks drove to the Royal Palace at Aranjuez while Jake and I took three open air city bus tours for an overview of Madrid.

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Plaza de Isabel 9

Windblown and $red, we returned to shower and dress before mee$ng the Starks for a suckling pig dinner at Bo$n. The restaurant was established in 1724 and bills itself as the oldest restaurant in the world. Predictably touristy, Bo$n had a warm and lively atmosphere but the dinner sat heavy on the stomach and probably on the waistline as well.

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Tuesday, September 9

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Ampudia We were on our way by 8:30, leaving Madrid in Klaus’s Mercedes and traveling north to Coca. The day was crisp and cloudless as we pulled up to the Cas$llo, a massive MudÊjar military fortress built in the late 15th century by Moorish craQsmen for the archbishop of Sevilla. With the sun mellowing the pink brick and shadows playing on the turrets and watchtowers, it was an awesome sight quite unlike anything we had seen on our European travels.

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Castillo at Coca 12

We drove toward Palencia, through Valladolid to Banos de Cerrato to see the Visigoth Basilica of San Juan Bau$sta. Built in 661, it is the oldest preserved church in Spain. As none of us spoke Spanish, Jake approached a group of old men who were gossiping nearby and, using pantomime gestures, aWempted to indicate that we needed the key to get in. We gleaned that the key was to be found at a dierent church nearby. Klaus and Dagmar went in search of it and returned shortly with a liWle woman carrying the biggest key I have ever seen. She swung open the wrought iron gate and let us in.

Inside, horseshoe arches supported by marble columns separated the aisles and a stylized frieze decorated the central apse.

San Juan Bautista at Cerrato 13

When we leQ the church it was nearly 12:30 pm and we decided to have lunch at a small cafĂŠ across the street. Although prior to the usual Spanish lunch$me, the proprietress brought us ham, cheese, chorizo sausage cooked in wine, morcilla (black pudding), hearty bread, and a couple of boWles of local red wine.

We had a wonderful $me sampling everything and talking and laughing. Con$nuing to Palencia, we were disappointed to ďŹ nd the cathedral closed un$l later in the aQernoon and were limited to a tour of the exterior where I found a green man perched beside an arched doorway. The closing of churches and other tourist sites for several hours in the aQernoon was to be a problem throughout the trip.

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This evening we are staying in Ampudia at the Casa Del Abad, a restored 17th century farmhouse. We managed to work up an appe$te for a sumptuous dinner served in a converted barn.

Star$ng with a series of small appe$zers, we sampled salmon terrine and blood pudding. I had perfect tenderloin of beef and Jake tried the regional specialty of pork jowls, which he later acknowledged was a mistake. For dessert we had fruits infused with lime, followed by a sweet aQer-dinner wine. As we were finishing, we heard the sound of fireworks and went outside to find a local fes$val in progress under a full moon. We watched for a while before we turned in, but the sound of the fes$vi$es con$nued un$l dawn.

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Wednesday, September 10

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Molinos de Duero

We got an early start, Klaus driving us through Lerma to the Monasterio de Santo Domingo de Silos. The Romanesque cloisters are among the most beau$ful in all of Spain. Of par$cular signiďŹ cance are the eight low relief sculptures on the corner pillars. The most engaging is a sculpture of Christ on the Road to Emmaus, surrounded by his disciples. Doub$ng Thomas stands out from the rest as he reaches out to touch the wounded side of Christ. The atmosphere of spirituality that emanates from the galleries surrounding a lone cypress tree has inspired poets and ar$sts over the centuries. The chan$ng of the monks at Silos was recorded several years ago and became a worldwide best seller, invi$ng the listener to discover that same serenity.

Monasterio de Santo Domingo de Silos

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At Covarrubias, a typical Cas$lian town, we found white houses decked with apping laundry and rus$c pots of bright owers.

We chose a restaurant on the plaza, ordered a light lunch and a boWle of wine, and sat outside to savor the perfect day. AQer lunch we visited the village church (where I found another green man) before con$nuing to Quintanilla de las Vinas. The $ny 7th century Visigoth church sits isolated on a rise overlooking an expanse of rolling green and golden hills. The church was closed when we arrived so we waited outside, leaning on the ancient tombstones and enjoying the peaceful solitude. At around 4:00 a car drove up the hill and a young man with the key got out. We were disappointed that we were not allowed to take any photographs inside and had to be sa$sďŹ ed with pictures of the intricate exterior decora$ons.

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Quintanilla de las Vinas

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Our hotel, the Real Posada de la Mesta in the village of Molinos de Duero, is a charming old inn that Michelin accords three red peaks.

AQer wri$ng some postcards and exploring the Posada, Jake and I ambled through the town before dinner, stopping to watch a group of boys playing soccer in a vacant lot. We joined the Starks for an excellent meal that included wild mushrooms, good wine, and warm conversa$on.

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Thursday, September 11

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Barcelona

We tried to get an early start but had a hard $me ďŹ nding the innkeeper and were unable to check out un$l aQer 9:00. The morning was cool and s$ll, the only sound coming from the bell on a stray cow that was lazily grazing near our car. We were prac$cally alone on the 25-mile drive to Soria, a city on the banks of the Duero, the river that courses through the Cas$lian plateau. We paused in Soria at the Iglesia de Santo Domingo, founded by Alfonso VIII and Eleanor Plantagenet, whose sculptures stand on either side of the west portal. The archivolt is profusely decorated with ďŹ gures from Genesis and of the Apocalypse and with scenes of the life of Christ.

Soria 21

Approximately 60 miles beyond Soria and eleven miles outside of Tarazona we visited the Monasterio de Veruela, founded in the 12th century by Cistercian monks from southern France. Passing through an arch formed by deep green plane trees that lined the walk, we entered the church. Built in the transi$onal period between Romanesque and Gothic, it also contains examples of Plateresque and Rococo architecture.

Monasterio de Veruela at Tarazona

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Three hours later we reached the Monasterio de Poblet, a large Cistercian complex in a beau$ful seong among poplar trees and a liWle brook, in the shelter of the Prades Mountains. In order to see the monastery we had to take a guided French language tour, but we could easily follow along with the assistance of “cheat sheets� in English. We enjoyed the wealth of wonderful carvings in the cloister and in the church, par$cularly the royal tombs of the kings of Aragon, carved in shimmering alabaster and set within broad, shallow arches that spanned the transepts on both sides of the crossing.

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Monasterio de Poblet

Another 15 miles brought us to the Monasterio de Santes Creus, founded in the 12th century shortly aQer Poblet and as a pendant to it. The most striking aspect of this complex was the great cloisters and the extensive Gothic carvings of plants, animals and Biblical themes.

Amongst the limestone vines and owers, I found two green men to add to my collec$on.

Monasterio de Santes Creus 26

It was aQer 4:00 and, having already driven 280 miles, we were ready for a break. We were fortunate to find a table under the trees at a nearby café where we ordered cold drinks and ham sandwiches and caught the welcome breeze that rustled the leaves overhead. Wishing we could remain longer, we roused ourselves and con$nued to Barcelona, passing rolling tree-doWed golden hills that gleamed against a sky of brilliant blue. As we approached Barcelona, the serrated pinnacles of Montserrat loomed in the distance, a dark island in the sea of gold. We did not arrive in town un$l 7:00. With some minor miscues, we found the Hotel Condes de Barcelona. Located in the Eixample area on the Passeig de Gracia, we were in the midst of the city’s best shopping area. Although the hotel décor was a disappoin$ng faded 50’s, we discovered that our room overlooked the Gaudi masterpiece, Casa Mila (also known as La Pedera), and that Sagrada Familia was also visible from our window. Finding a place for dinner was not easy; this was a Catalan holiday and most restaurants were closed. Jake was concerned that we not waste a precious meal at an ordinary restaurant in this gourmet city. With limited alterna$ves we had to take what we could and had an acceptable meal at a simple place near the hotel. It had been a full day and we had Barcelona to discover in the morning.

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Friday, September 12

Barcelona We awoke to another beau$ful sunny day. To Jake’s chagrin, we spent an inordinate amount of $me at Cortes Ingles, the ubiquitous department store, where I ďŹ ddled around buying a cell phone and then had to go to another shop to get a phone card. Connected at last, we walked the Eixample. We noted the Modernista architecture of Gaudi, Cadafalch, and Montaner, appearing like surreal jewels along the Passeig de Gracia.

In La Rambla area there were individuals, painted as statues, or dressed as vampires or clowns, who assumed poses and remained mo$onless for extended periods, hoping to encourage $ps. When I spoWed one costumed Green Man, I had to take his picture and make a contribu$on. There were lots of kitschy stands as well, selling postcards, scarves, belts, and toys.

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At the colorful Bocaria food market, we took in the marvelous sights: shellďŹ sh crawling from their crates, hanging hams, eggs of all colors and sizes, mountains of fruits, candies, cheeses, meats, and ďŹ sh. We enjoyed watching the shoppers as they bargained and poked, argued and sampled.

It was a gay profusion of humanity and an impressive array of plenty.

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Proceeding from the Bocaria market to Gaudi’s Guell Palace on Carrer Nou o La Rambla, we discovered that we had to purchase $ckets for a later $me. This gave us the opportunity to walk past the Columbus statue to the Barri Go$c, or Gothic Quarter. It is, in fact, far older than Gothic, as traces of Roman seWlements and 4th century walls can be found there. We went through the cathedral and walked down narrow, winding passages lined with bou$ques tucked into the ancient walls, stopping in the Placa del Rei to watch young families and old people talking or res$ng in the shadow of the medieval buildings.

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Jake and I returned to La Rambla in $me for our tour and eagerly entered the Guell Palace, built by Gaudi between 1886 and 1888.

According to the liWle book we purchased there, Gaudi was expressing the new language of the bourgeoisie in this structure by crea$ng a metaphor of the dark basement of poverty rising to the brilliant rooQop colors of wealth. It was an marvelous place, full of unexpected details and surprising innova$ons. Each ceiling was different, each window unique. When at last we walked out on the roof, we discovered a series of twenty different sculptural chimneys, each one glistening with color in the bright sunlight. In the distance we could see again the soaring spires of Gaudi’s cathedral, looking like something from The Wizard of Oz. 31

Guell Palace 32

We looked for Espe Sucre, a restaurant Jake had read about, on the way back to the hotel. The street numbering system was totally incomprehensible and we walked blocks out of our way, by chance loca$ng instead Comerq 24 where we had reserva$ons this evening. By this $me we were exhausted and cursed each false step or wrong turn, of which there were more than a few. When we finally neared the hotel, we stopped at an outdoor café nearby for a glass of wine and a boWle of Vichy Catalan before going up to our room. A quick change and we were on our way back to Comerq 24 with the Starks. We were pleased with the restaurant and found the degusta$on menu to be an inven$ve and delicate blend of flavors and textures. Course aQer course of delectable tapas were served on unique liWle dishes and we exchanged stories of our day over glasses of crisp Spanish wine.

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Saturday, September 13

Barcelona

We grabbed a quick coffee and pastry and went across the street to get in line for $ckets to Gaudi’s monumental Casa Mila, built between 1906 and 1912. Looking like a grand version of a Hobbithouse, it appeared to be alive with its undula$ng façade and weblike gates. Our guidebook accurately described the roof as a sugges$ve world where “chimneys and ven$la$on ducts are transformed into disturbing anthropomorphic shapes.”

Casa Mila 34

Gaudi’s Sagrada Família is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, in spite of being incomplete. Construc$on of Sagrada Família commenced in 1882 and Gaudí became involved in 1883, taking over the project and transforming it with his architectural and engineering style, combining Gothic and curvilinear Art Nouveau forms. Gaudí devoted his final years to the project, and at the $me of his death at age 73 in 1926, less than a quarter of the project was complete.

Today, the work slowly con$nues.

Sagrada Família 35

We took a taxi to see Gaudi’s Dragon Gate, part of former stables in the district of Les Corts. It is a massive sculpture of cast iron designed by Gaudi and produced in a Barcelona workshop in 1885. We caught another taxi up to the Pedralbes Monastery. AQer riding up the steep hill, we were glad that we had decided not to walk. The miles that we had walked yesterday were catching up with us. The monastery was dis$nc$ve with its three-storey cloisters surrounded by $ny cells and oratories. Located in a former monk’s dormitory was the Thyssen-Bornemisza collec$on, consis$ng of 72 pain$ngs which were part of the museum in Madrid. Although the collec$on contained impressive names, we came away feeling that the works were collected for those names’ sake rather than for par$cular ar$s$c merit. Keeping in line with our Gaudi theme, Jake and I took a taxi to the Park Guell in the district of La Salut. The UNESCO-designated park was built between 1900 and 1914, inspired as a garden city. A mixture of Disney World, Candyland, and a whipped cream-covered ice-cream sundae, it ul$mately defies descrip$on.

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We enjoyed watching the crowds of tourists, couples, and liWle children as they posed with the colorful mosaic salamander that greets visitors on the front steps. It was interes$ng to note the blend of the whimsical and the u$litarian as we walked through the forest of Doric columns that support the public square above. The acous$cs of the square draw musicians who come to entertain with flute, guitar, or voice. The whole park is alive with color and laughter, and we were enchanted.

We tried to engage a taxi to the Metro but the next driver in the queue indicated by gesture that it was an easy walk. We soon discovered that it was more than two miles. This would not be much as a fresh start, but aQer spending yesterday on our feet, we were dragging when we finally reached the sta$on. We persevered, however, and kept to our plan to visit the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. Installed in the Palacio Nacional that was built for the 1929 World’s Fair, the museum features Romanesque and Gothic collec$ons that were taken from churches in Catalunya and Aragon. We climbed banks of steps to the museum, set high atop a hill overlooking the city, and entered to find a collec$on of 12th and 13th century frescoes, stunning in their beauty. Reflec$ng Byzan$ne influence, they are of bright

jewel-like colors outlined in black. The figures are rigid, but are surprisingly expressive. All were removed from churches in the Pyrenean valleys that we will be visi$ng later. We savored each one. We walked along the crest of the hill to the Fundacio Joan Miro. The white, sun drenched building, which won awards in the 1970s for its modernist architecture, is the perfect backdrop to Miro’s bright avant-garde works. AQerwards, we took the funicular back down to the city and met the Starks at the hotel. This $me we had reserva$ons at Alkimia, the restaurant of another chef about whom Jake had read. We were expectant as we were seated in our own liWle alcove in the aWrac$ve room, but dinner proved to be disappoin$ng.

On a whim, Jake and I decided to hop on the Metro and return to the Rambla to look for Marsella, an absinthe bar. We found ourselves walking along a dark narrow street, dodging puddles and garbage cans un$l we came upon a crowded, smoky liWle storefront. Crowds of people were grouped around diminu$ve tables or clustered at the bar. We found a spot at the end of the bar and ordered two. The bartender brought us two stocky stemmed glasses, two cubes of sugar, two spoons and a plas$c boWle of water. We, of course, did not know what to do and stood there, feeling foolish. He took the cue, poked a hole in the top of the water boWle, perched the sugar on the spoon, held it over the glass and started to squirt the water on the sugar, mel$ng it. We took it from there, clumsily $pping the spoon and dropping the sugar into the liquid. I looked around and realized that many others were also novices, as I watched them drop their sugar cubes as well. As for the two of us, we learned quickly and watched as the telltale circle started to appear, indica$ng that the absinthe was ready to drink. I took $ny sips, expec$ng to pass out at any moment, but I believe that the headiest aspect was the excitement of being there. We worked our way through our drinks, all the while watching everyone else—lots of students, the occasional overgrown hippy-type or an old guy with a comb-over.

It was fascina$ng. We finished up, bought a boWle to take home and found the way back to the Metro and bed, quite pleased with ourselves.

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Sunday, September 14

Barcelona

AQer our adventure with absinthe, we slept in this morning, mee$ng the Starks at midmorning to walk over to a brocante market at Port Vell, on the water’s edge. Most of the offerings were junk (Klaus commented that if I wanted this kind of thing, they were trying to clear out their house and he’d make me a deal) but I did find a neat old brass paper clip adver$sing farm equipment made in Barcelona. While Dagmar and Klaus went for a harbor cruise, Jake and I strolled along the Port Vell boardwalk and along the waterfront to Barceloneta, famous for its outdoor stalls, restaurants, and nau$cal atmosphere. The beach was crowded with sunbathers, many of them topless, all taking advantage of the sunny day. We found an invi$ng spot near the beach that had tables set up

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under a tent, and inquired if there was a table for two. The proprietress at Can Mojo said that indeed they could accommodate us outside, and we had a delighOul aQernoon enjoying a meal of fresh seafood (I did at least taste Jake’s raw percebes) and several boWles of Albarino. There was a large family nearby celebra$ng Grandpa’s birthday and we enjoyed watching the children wriggling in Grandpa’s lap or geong mildly scolded by Mamma for being overly exuberant. At another table a group we determined must be in the film business was laughing together over trays of tapas. We enjoyed our meal and our surroundings and each other’s company for more than three hours. There was no need for dinner aQer that and we used the $me to pack for tomorrow.

Monday, September 15

to

S’Agaro

Jake picked up our rental car and we set off for the Costa Brava in two cars, as from this point on we would be driving separately. It was good to know that we would s$ll be with Dagmar and Klaus, for our journey together, sharing these experiences, had been very special. As usual, we had a wild trip out of town, for our simple direc$ons became a nightmare when we took an early wrong turn. At last we were driving north along the coast, passing crowded beaches and unaWrac$ve towns. We made a brief stop at Sant Feliu Guxioles but the monastery was closed, so we returned to the winding coastal road,

stopping for a snack at a roadside stand that we discovered was owned by a Brit. (We discovered this when we asked if he spoke English and he said, “A liWle.”) We ordered ham sandwiches and the typical Catalan tomato toast, which he had us make ourselves, providing toast, tomato halves, garlic cloves, olive oil and salt. The views improved markedly as we con$nued north and we stopped to take photographs at the designated viewpoints.

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We reached a bit of heaven when we pulled into the Hostal de la Gavina in the hamlet of S’Agaro. It was absolutely gorgeous there.

Our room featured high ceilings, an$que closets and French doors that opened to a balcony overlooking the azure Mediterranean, waves crashing on the rocks below. What a sight. I felt as if I were in a photo of “A Room with a View” on the last page of Conde-Nast Traveler. AQer we seWled in, we set out along the pine tree-bordered sea-side path. We returned and sat by the pool, sipping Mojitos made with fresh mint, and ea$ng Spanish olives. Unfortunately, all was not well in Paradise, and we could slowly feel ourselves being overcome. Perhaps the stop at the Bri$sh gentleman’s stand had been a bad idea aQer all, for we spent a night that was so disagreeable that it will be recorded in no further detail here.

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Tuesday, September 16

S’Agaro

We certainly picked a pleasant place to be ill, for we spent a quiet day in that idyllic spot, recupera$ng from our bout of food poisoning. We slept late and ate a bit of lunch by the pool, although in retrospect, Jake’s choice of grilled sardines might have been improved upon. Another nap before we roused ourselves to take a walk with Dagmar and Klaus, passing beau$ful sea-side mansions with perfect views of the Mediterranean. The walk was good for us both and I could feel my strength returning. We decided to eat an early dinner in the snack bar and I was delighted to find a simple club sandwich on the menu. That and a Coke was just what I needed. Jake too. An early night to bed and we were preWy much back to normal.

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Interlude

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I am wriHng this from our hotel balcony in S’Agaro on the Costa Brava. It is 7:30; the sun is just seWng. I am gazing out at the waves pounding against the rocks below. It creates a rushing sound, full of power and yet somehow immensely relaxing. The sound makes me feel introspecHve, perhaps because it is the fist chance I have had on this trip to sit alone and catch up with my thoughts. Jake is soaking in the tub; my turn is next. I plan to pour in both boYles of Hermes Orange Vert bath gel that was placed in our room. The smell is clean and fresh and somehow very European. It’s wonderful to sit here. The fading sun has caught a Hny boat bobbing in the waves. I saw a cruise ship in the distance but when I looked up from my wriHng it was magically gone. I am amazed that it disappeared so quickly. These quiet moments are few when we travel, but for that reason they are all the more precious. I love having a few moments to let my thoughts gather in all that we have seen and done. As I sit here, I realize that I am happy. I realize too that I am geWng older; I feel the presence of Hme. We both have to stagger a few steps when we get up to shake off the sHffness that sets in the moment we sit down. We can sHll walk all day, but I find I am really Hred by the end of it. With Jake, one does not lose much Hme, for he keeps going at his amazing pace, not wanHng to waste a moment that he might be able to see something else in the Hme remaining in each day. He has taught me so much. He has taken me to places I’ve not been and explained art and architecture to me, poinHng out the connecHon of sights we have seen. But I think I can teach him in return. I can show him how to savor the moment, revel in it and place it indelibly in the heart. But alas! It’s my turn for the bathtub.

Wednesday, September 17

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Seu d’Urgell

An accidental mis-seong of the alarm clock got us up a liWle earlier than we had planned but the extra $me gave us the opportunity to enjoy the cool morning air from our balcony. We met Klaus and Dagmar for our last meal together, a breakfast that proved we had found our appe$tes again. AQer farewells and promises to plan another trip together soon, we drove away, leaving them to enjoy one more day at that wonderful place. We had some problems loca$ng the Sant Feliu road towards Gerona, but eventually we arrived at Besalu, stopping briefly to see the for$fied Roman bridge and the highly decorated Romanesque west portal of the Iglesia de Sant Pere. We stopped at the monastery at Sant Joan de les Abadesses to see the Descent from the Cross, a polychrome wood carving from the 13th century that depicts the characters in realis$c detail and exudes deep passion.

Sant Joan de les Abadesses 43

At Ripoll, we were fortunate to reach the Monasterio de Santa Maria before its 1:00 closing, having just enough $me to see the 12th century portal that must have been remarkable before the elements took their toll. Today it is protected by a glass enclosure, but it was unfortunately installed too late to prevent the carvings from losing much of their detail.

Nonetheless we could tell that the carvings had at one $me been excep$onal in their depic$on of Biblical persons and events.

Monasterio de Santa Maria at Ripoll

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As we drove towards Seu d’Urgell, we decided to con$nue for an extra 10 kilometers to Andorra, touted as “The Shopper’s Paradise.” I had never been there and Jake wanted me to add another country to my list. Besides, I didn’t mind checking out the shopping either. As we joined the queue to enter this $ny country, we noted that everything was well-organized to accommodate the hoards of busses to$ng duty-free shoppers. Huge merchandise centers and car malls interspersed with hotels adver$sing special rates lined the two one-way streets that ushered you in and whisked you out again. We stopped at one mega-mall and shopped for cosme$cs and snacks before returning to our i$nerary. Before finding our hotel, we visited the Catedral de Santa Maria in Seu d’Urgell. The interior of the church is significant for the eleva$on of the nave that rises on cruciform pillars surrounded by engaged columns. Of par$cular interest to us, however was the Diocesan Museum which houses a wonderful collec$on of art from the region that dates from the 10th century. The most precious is an illuminated 11th century Beatus, one of the best preserved copies of St. John’s Commentary on the Apocalypse wriWen in the 8th century by the priest Beatus of Liebana. We

watched a short introductory film in the liWle room where the Beatus was displayed. The music, which had also been playing in the cathedral, was beau$ful and we were delighted to find the CD in the giQ shop along with a handsome book about the Seu d’Urgell Beatus. By this $me, the day was fading (as we were) as we tried to find the Hotel El Castel de Ciutat. Seeing it high on a hill overlooking the town, we turned up a narrow road that quickly disintegrated into a pulse-pounding caWle trail that dangled off the edge of a cliff. We should have realized that something was wrong when an old woman walking along the side of the trail yelled and gestured at us as we went by. Jake tried to back up, but was forced forward by another car coming the other way. Thank goodness he persevered, for the real road was only a few meters further on. I s$ll get flashbacks at the thought of our aWemp$ng to turn around on that precipice in the fading light. AQer another false turn that took us to what looked like a school, we managed to find the way to the Relais et Chateau where we took advantage of all the ameni$es, enjoying a swim and treadmill workout in the modern fitness center followed by the restaurant’s degusta$on menu.

Seu d’Urgell 45

Thursday, September 18

Sant Climent at Coll de Nargo 46

to Sos del Rey Catolicos AQer breakfast, we drove to the Pyrenean hamlet of Coll de Nargo, which boasts one of the most splendid Romanesque churches in Catalunya, da$ng back to the 11th century. We had a problem ďŹ nding the church and drove up to the hilly town along a narrow winding road un$l we came to a church in the small main square. A young woman came out of the adjacent beauty shop to see what we were aQer and indicated in Catalan that we had the wrong church. Following her gestures, we descended the hill and found Sant Climent on the main road below. Although it was locked, it was really neat.

We vied with the pigeons for space to look at this church in its lovely seong.

Heeding a warning sign that indicated road work ahead, we took the long way towards Tremp, passing though the most drama$c scenery of our trip: deep gorges and spectacular passes that created some real white-knuckled driving. Jake kept saying, “Tell me what you see; I’ve got to keep my eyes on the road.” Yes, you do, I thought, and kept the descrip$ons coming. Eventually we reached the cutoff for Vall de Boi, renowned for its cluster of Lombard Romanesque churches, the finest in the Pyrenees. Characterized for slate roofing and irregular masonry, they stand out for their pure, sober lines and for the wall frescoes which we had seen at the Museu d’Art de Catalunya in Barcelona. We first went to Taüll, a typical mountain village that has two of these churches. It was intriguing to see the original loca$ons of those beau$ful frescoes. They have been recreated here, providing the best of both worlds: the guarantee that the frescoes are safe in perpetuity while at the same $me providing a sense of context. We walked over to the nearby café where we purchased teeshirts and a book and ordered Cokes that we drank in the shade of a drooping flowering tree. I enjoyed watching the proprietors’ liWle boy digging in the garden with his liWle shovel un$l his mother reprimanded him for almost flinging dirt on the customers. I could have stayed there all aQernoon, but my tour guide reminded me that we had places to visit before the day was over.

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Sant Climent de TaĂźll

AQer dragging me away from that idyllic seong, we drove for three hours along a series of narrow mountain roads through Ainsa and Jaca un$l we came to the turnoff for the Monasterio de San Juan de la Pena, arriving twenty minutes before closing. Although I had felt rushed leaving the Vall de Boi, I could well understand Jake’s determina$on to reach this remarkable place. From a distance, the monastery appears as a slender hollow under overhanging rocks. The site itself is spectacular. The monastery, symbol of the con$nued existence of the Chris$an faith in the Pyrenees at the $me of the Muslim invasion, was chosen by the kings and nobles of Aragon-Navarra as their pantheon. We parked as quickly as we could and climbed up to the cloisters, entering through a Mozarabic door. The cloisters themselves are cornered between the precipice and the cliff face which provides a kind of roof. The capitals are extraordinary, especially within this backdrop, depic$ng a chronological survey of man from the Crea$on to the coming of the Evangelists.

These carvings were to influence sculpture throughout the region for centuries to come.

By the $me we leQ this marvelous site the sun was low on the horizon, making for a hairraising drive through blinding sunlight to reach the Parador Sos del Rey Catolicos, where we arrived just as night was falling. The atmosphere somewhat resembled that of a US Na$onal Park lodge, but we enjoyed the simple dinner and fell gratefully into bed.

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San Juan de la Peña

Friday, September 19

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San Sebastian

Before leaving, we walked through the village of Sos and up the steep steps to the medieval Jewish quarter, searching for the church. As we approached, the priest seemed to be wai$ng for us and ushered us inside to listen to the music from a heavily decorated organ. We paused for a few moments before slipping out and retracing our steps to the car. We drove to the town of Sanguesa on the bank of the Aragon River. The Iglesia de Santa Maria la Real, begun in the 12th century, was completed in the 13th with the construc$on of its splendid south entrance. In order to fully appreciate the portal, we had to stand out in the middle of the road. It was easy to become distracted as it is so crowded with sculpture that one stands amazed at the sheer number of subjects depicted and the number of ways in which they have been illustrated—angels, saints, tradesmen, musicians, disciples—all in a tumble together under the guiding hand of God.

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Trying to see as much as we could before the aQernoon closings, we decided to skip the monastery at Leyre and con$nue to Eunate, picking up the Camino de San$ago for the first $me on our trip. We found the chapel in a field of sunflowers at the end of a line of cypress trees. The site was only the beginning of the charm of this Romanesque chapel. Octagonal in shape, its harmonious propor$on and design beckon the traveler to pause and reflect. We found a number of pilgrims, their walking s$cks leaning against the walls, praying silently in the chapel or chaong with fellow hikers in the gallery outside. Just three miles east, we drove to Puente la Reina with its humpbacked 11th century bridge spanning the Rio Arga, providing a crossing for the pilgrims on their way to San$ago.

Vying with a number of tour busses that pulled up, we did not stay but con$nued to Estella/ Lizarra. Once in the town, we had a difficult $me finding the historic district and then when we did, finding a place to park. Jake finally dropped me off near the Iglesia de San Pedro de la Rua and I climbed up a long flight of steps only to find that it was closed. At least I did get a close look at the curious Caliphate-influenced doorway with its scalloped arch and richly sculpted capitals.

Shrugging off our disappoin$ng visit to Estella, we drove along rolling hills, passing through drama$c rock forma$ons and curving around

Eunate 52

precipitous drops un$l we picked up the autovia for the final 60 miles to San Sebas$an. We no$ced that the road signs were beginning to indicate the presence of the Basque language with a prevalence of “k”s and “z”s in the place names.

Puente la Reina

Iglesia de San Pedro de la Rua 53

Following the river into San Sebas$an (Donos$a), we were awed when we reached the scallop-shaped bay, la Concha, framed on either side by the lush Monte Igueldo and Monte Urgull and par$ally closed off by the islet of Santa Clara. The sun had turned the water to a deep turquoise and bathers doWed the golden beach. As we drove, we nego$ated several hairpin curves before reaching the top of Igueldo, high above. We just stood there, absorbing it all. Descending to the city, we located the Hotel de Londres y de Inglaterra where we shared lodgings with numerous movie people who were in town for the Film Fes$val. As we were leaving our car, the strap broke on my travel case, conveniently necessita$ng a trip to the local Loewes where we replaced it with a beau$ful leather bag. We took advantage of the opportunity to buy numerous giQs for our families as well.

We walked along the waterfront among the other strollers, runners and bikers before returning to the hotel for gin and tonics and a chance to see the film people in their element. It was fun to sit in the lounge and watch the schmoozing and air kisses and funky ouOits. AQer a rest and a change of clothes, we caught a taxi to Arzak, a Michelin 3-star restaurant where we had 9:00 reserva$ons. Arzak (along with Ferran Adria of El Bulli) is considered one of the great Spanish chefs and we were very excited about this meal. The room, which was very cozy, was only occupied by a few

San Sebastian 54

conspicuous Americans when we arrived. We ordered the tas$ng menu for 92 Euros each which permiWed wide choices within each food category.

Between 10:30 and 11:00 the room filled up with locals and a number of Americans who were a part of a tour. The food was very good, especially the five or six amuses which preceded the meal: foamed codfish, leek, potato cubes, and a fish and watermelon chunk among them. For a starter, Jake ordered sardines and melon while I had prawns and toast. Next he chose pigeon and I had the lamb. We completed the meal with grilled fruit and olive-apple tart. Jake and I concluded that the meal was very nice, but that the service was surprisingly inaWen$ve. The red (Rioja) wine was not served and Jake had to pour it himself. There were long, awkward gaps between courses and they confused our dessert choices. Geong and paying the bill took a long $me as well. This was all quite surprising to us in a restaurant of this caliber. Arzak and his daughter visited with tables of Spanish and Basque speakers but they did not come near the foreigners. Our meal took over three hours and the total cost was more than 300 Euros. We took a taxi back to the hotel but decided that late as it was, the night was too beau$ful not to walk along the illuminated beach. We strolled together with the warm breeze blowing in our faces and watched the groups of young people who were siong in circles in the sand, chaong together.

Saturday, September 20 I tried to get Jake to sleep in, but we were up and at breakfast by 8:30, and in the car an hour later.

Taking the autovia, we drove 60 miles to Bilbao, arriving at the famous Guggenheim a liWle aQer 11:00. The museum, completed in 1997, was created by California-based architect Frank Gehry and is widely considered one of the great buildings of the 20th century. Jake really wanted to show me the building more than anything else, and I was indeed impressed by the massive owing interior spaces. We walked though the halls and then out to the banks of the Nervion where the structure rises like a vast ship with billowing sails.

Clad in $tanium, it shimmers in the sunlight and changes aspect from every angle. It was preWy incredible.

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Burgos Bilbao

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We departed at noon, hoping to reach the church at Najera before its 1:00 closing. We would have missed it, but fortunately the church was open for a wedding and we slipped in at the back to watch. The choir sounded so beau$ful that at first we thought a CD was playing. It was very special for me to watch the ceremony and to see the couple exchange their vows, knowing that Chris and Maggie would soon be doing just that. With a bit of hun$ng, being careful not to disturb the ceremony, we found the tomb of Dona Blanca de Navarra, a beau$ful Romanesque sarcophagus that was rich with figural carvings. We slipped out and found a tavern where we ordered a couple of soQ drinks and watched a crowd of good old boys joking around.

Jake had so much planned for the day that we decided to forego Cogolla and instead drive on Santo Domingo de la Calzada. Unfortunately, we were out of luck, for we found that the church was closed un$l 4:00. The closing hours in Spain has been the most frustra$ng part of our trip, for we have been forced to rush thorough places we would have liked to have taken more slowly and had to miss others en$rely. As we walked back to the car, we no$ced that shells had been carved in the pavement and arrows painted on walls, poin$ng the way for pilgrims on the Camino. We drove on into Burgos, figuring that some extra $me there would be valuable, as the cathedral is one of the largest in Spain. To quote the Green Guide, the cathedral is “a remarkable example of the transforma$on of French and German Flamboyant Gothic into a style that is typically Spanish through the natural exuberance of its decora$on.” Indeed, we found the cathedral to be a remarkable combina$on of early Gothic (from the 12th century) to the densely ornamental Baroque Churrigueresque (1730s or so). Unlike the picture in the Guide (or the one in Jake’s memory), the exterior of the

56

cathedral had been recently cleaned and it glistened in the sunlight as we walked across the square. We worked our way through the cathedral, paying special aWen$on to the Capilla Del Condestable where the tombs of the constable and his wife are adorned with their likenesses, carved in beau$ful Carrara marble. We no$ced two “wild men” in friezes at the entrance to the chapel and tried to surrep$$ously take photos of them. I also spoWed an unusual crescent-shaped green man hidden in a 16th century pain$ng of the Crucifixion. Spending so much $me in the cathedral meant that we missed the chance to see the Real Monasterio de las Huelgas, for we arrived there just aQer the last tour. Disappointed, we drove along the N1 trying to find the Landa Palace Hotel. AQer going ten miles out of town, we realized that we had probably missed it and turned around. We took the first exit back and found ourselves at a reconstructed 16th century tower and palace, s$ll within the roar of the autovia. It was marvelous. Filled with an$ques, massive beams, leaded glass windows and an$que ironwork, the palace was right on the highway but portrayed no sense of that at all. As we were shown to our room, we passed collec$ons of clocks, jars, irons, and rolling pins. This place had been the crea$on of a family, and it was obvious that a lot of love, thought, sweat, and money had gone into it. AQer washing up and changing, we came down for a drink. Seated in the old parlor, we were treated to a fashion parade as ladies from a wedding recep$on filed past, dressed in beau$ful gowns and manHllas and to$ng adorable children. We ordered another round and some tapas and enjoyed the ambience. Our dinner reserva$ons were at 9:30 in the cozy, an$que-filled dining room. The clientele was almost exclusively Spanish and we concluded that this must be the place that families from Burgos frequent for special occasions.

Nijera

Cathedral at Burgos 58

Sunday, September 21

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Leon

Trying to make up for the lost opportuni$es of yesterday, we got an earlier start in order to make the most of opening hours. Our first stop was Fromista and the Iglesia de San Mar$n. Taking a small road out of Burgos, we passed rolling fields of grain before connec$ng to the sparkling new road to Leon that was not even on the map yet. Pleased that we had just beaten a single tour bus, we hurried into the church in order to have it to ourselves while the group was geong organized. Built in 1066 of golden rough-hewn stone blocks, it has pure Romanesque lines and boasts a plethora of decora$ve features—billets outlining the windows, engaged columns and cornices with ornately carved modillions. Inside, the capitals are richly carved with human figures and plant mo$fs. Although the church has suffered somewhat from an over-zealous restora$on in 1904, we loved it all.

Fromista 59

Con$nuing on the Camino, we came to Carrion de los Condes where we stopped at the Iglesia de San$ago to see the 12th century carvings on the faรงade that whimsically depicted men at their work, including an architect with his compass, a barber with his scissors, and a poWer at his wheel.

Carrion de los Condes 60

Seventy miles brought us to Leon, where we arrived at the Basilica of San Isidoro at 12:15, concerned that we would be too late to see it. We were relieved to ďŹ nd that the Royal Pantheon was s$ll open, but unfortunately we had to take a tour in Spanish and could take no photographs. The pantheon is one of the earliest examples of Romanesque architecture in Cas$lla. The beau$fully preserved 12th century frescoes there are outstanding. They illustrate themes from the New Testament and scenes from country life and include a calendar of seasonal tasks that we found on an inside arch. The treasury was also a treat with its wealth of 11th century reliquaries covered with embossed silver, stone-inlaid gold and Mozarabic embroidery.

San Isidoro at Leon 61

We hurried to the Museum of Leon, hoping to slip through before its 2:00 closing. We just made it in $me and had a mad dash trying to find the Cristo de Carrizo, noted in the Green Guide as a three-star aWrac$on, an outstanding 11th century ivory crucifix with “great presence and a penetra$ng gaze.” We checked into the Parador San Marcos, a five red-peak hotel and a fabulous place. Formerly a monastery, the site has been connected with the Knights of the Order of San$ago since the 12th century, but the building was completed at the height of the Renaissance. The façade is 328 feet long and consists of two storeys of windows and niches set within friezes and cornices, engaged columns and pilasters. Medallions in high relief depict Bible figures and famous Roman and Spanish persons. AQer seWling in our room, we had a late lunch in the sunny restaurant where we enjoyed rabbit stew and a pork and bean dish, both local special$es. A walk was in order aQer the heavy meal so we strolled along the tree-lined esplanade, doWed with old women chaong with each other on the benches along the way. We watched a group of elderly men playing a kind of bowling game with what looked like a lot of good-natured ribbing. AQer fino sherry, a hearty meal, and a walk, we lay down for a nap, later deciding to cancel our dinner reserva$ons and call it an early night.

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Monday, September 22

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Taking advantage of our luxurious lodgings, we slept late and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before seong out to see the cathedral. We snaked through the narrow medieval streets and were fortunate to find a place to park. The cathedral, built between the mid-13th and late 14th centuries, is true Gothic in style even to the soaring Frenchinspired nave with its dazzling stained-glass windows, where I

Oviedo Cathedral at Leon

discovered numerous green men. As we entered the autovia, driving through the province of Asturias towards Oviedo, we commented that this was the first cloudy day we’d had. We exited at Pola and con$nued east to Arriondas where we enjoyed a two-hour meal at El Corral del Indianu (one Michelin star). We sat in the garden next to the biggest hydrangea plant I have ever seen and enjoyed fresh seafood, imagina$vely prepared. We started with a salad with clear tomato soup, followed by ravioli with cod and squid and a chorizo sauce. Jake had Bonita and chanterelles and I chose monkfish, raw clams and chanterelles. For dessert, we shared green almond soufflé and Cabrales cheese soup and ice cream. (Cabrales is a strong, fine cheese similar to Gorgonzola.) The wine was an excep$onally good Albarino, Terras Gauda, and we kept the label for future reference. At first we planned to con$nue to Covadonga where we hoped to experience drama$c Picos de Europa views, but instead found overcast weather, lots of tourist stands, and traffic. We returned through Arriondas and proceeded northeast to Ribadesella on the Costa Verde and then on through Villaviciosa to Valdedios, arriving at 6:30. As we feared, the Iglesia de San Salvador was closed. That was too bad, as it looked really interes$ng. Driving on to Oviedo, we arrived just aQer 8:00 at the charming Hotel de la Reconquista, surrounded by elegant shops and bou$ques. AQer checking in, we went window shopping and watched the fashionably dressed people hurrying to their evening’s arrangements. We had a fino at the hotel bar and later, a few snacks (garlic potato salad, mayonnaise-vegetable and potato salad, chorizo rolls, and salmon bread) across the street at a tapas bar. Again, we made it an early night.

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Iglesia de San Salvador Valdidios

Tuesday, September 23

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Santiago de Compostela

Before leaving Oviedo, we drove up Monte Naranco to visit the pre-Asturian (9th century) churches there. We waited a long $me before someone came to unlock the door, and had to put any desire for solitude aside when we were asked to join a small tour group in order to gain access to Santa Maria del Naranco and San Miguel de Lillo. Both were charming liWle churches in their tranquil mountain seongs. The door jambs of San Miguel were a par$cular delight, depic$ng scenes of a consul, surrounded by his dignitaries, presiding over contests in an arena.

Santa Maria del Naranco 66

San Miguel de Lillo

Santa Cristina de Lena

It was star$ng to drizzle by the $me we leQ. We retraced our route from the previous day to Pola, where we picked up the road to Santa Cris$na de Lena. We parked the car and started up a muddy path past local orchards and ďŹ elds un$l we came to the liWle church perched high on a hill overlooking a deep valley. A caretaker was there with her old dog and let us in, collec$ng a couple of Euros from us. This church has a Greek cross plan that is unusual in Asturias. The nave is separated from the raised choir and the altar stone has interes$ng carvings, but the best part of the church for us was its peaceful seong.

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Ten miles from Leon, we discovered another new road not yet on the map that made our trip towards San$ago a lot quicker than we’d planned. We consulted the Red Guide for a lunch sugges$on and chose a Bib Gormand in Cacabelos, just west of Ponferrada, called La Moncloa de San Lazaro. It was a great rus$c place with rough-hewn wooden tables and simple décor. We ordered the 19 Euro degusta$on menu, complete with a coarse red wine, cold cuts, a couple of hearty stews and a yoghurt dessert with candied chestnuts. We returned to the autovia un$l we got close to San$ago, exi$ng to a smaller road and stopping briefly at Vilar de Donas to see the Romanesque portal and where we hoped to find some pilgrims. We vainly scanned the roadside for a glimpse of those who were nearing the end of their pilgrimage. However, the road into the city was far from roman$c and we thought that perhaps the walkers had an alternate and more picturesque path to follow at the end of the Camino.

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When we started, we put one foot in front of the other We sHll did not know - precisely - why we were doing it The miles passed - many of them pleasantly Our feet blistered and were slow to heal Our ankles turned on loose stones The rain beat its way through our clothes The cold chilled the marrow of our bones Some nights, refuge was hard to find Some days, miles of hot dust had no fountains…

—A Pilgrim’s Lament 69

When we found the old quarter with its ancient buildings and churches we were caught up in the excitement of the place, especially when we drove up in front of our hotel. Founded in 1499 by the Catholic monarchs as a royal hospital, Hostel de los Reyes Catolicos is the oldest hotel in the world and a major site in itself. The common areas were absolutely magniďŹ cent and I had to pinch myself to think that it was possible to stay in such a place. The magic dimmed, however, when we were shown to our room. It was perfectly adequate, but not what one might have expected. We had no$ced this to be true in other paradors where we stayed: the buildings themselves are amazing but the guest rooms reminded us more of Na$onal Park lodges. Nonetheless we were staying in a piece of history.

Hostel de los Reyes Catolicos Santiago de Compostela 70

We stepped out of the hotel to the Plaza del Obradoiro and faced the cathedral just as the sun was making its way down the richly sculptured Baroque façade, turning its golden stone to rose. Climbing the steps, we went inside to find the cathedral quiet and virtually empty. We took advantage of the solitude to get a preliminary overview and stood transfixed at the Por$co de la Gloria, the late 12th century work by Maestro Mateo. The statues of this triple doorway are striking in their detail and the face of each figure has a depth of expression that is remarkable. In par$cular, Daniel, with his hint of a smile, is richly evoca$ve.

We con$nued through the Barrio An$guo, winding our way with the crowds of revelers through narrow streets and past displays of fresh octopus, squid, and lobster. Our dinner at the hotel that night was disappoin$ng aQer our exaggerated an$cipa$on. The service was inaWen$ve and the food, mediocre. We did not linger, deciding instead to return to the plaza where we found the cathedral bathed in an illumina$on that accented the interplay of lines on the façade. A minstrel group performed across the plaza and its medieval sound melded pleasingly with the gentle laughter of pilgrims gathered nearby.

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Wednesday, September 24

Santiago de Compostela

We were up and ready this morning for a more thorough tour of the cathedral. This $me, we joined throngs of visitors of all ages and na$onali$es: pilgrims and tour groups, families and old folks. We started with the palace of the archbishop, then the treasury, and next the cloisters and the crypt, a “small church” created to bolster the weight of the portal. Pushing our way into the cathedral, we saw piles of knapsacks with the ubiquitous scallop shell of the pilgrimage $ed on the back, tossed against the massive pillars. Walking s$cks leaned alongside. At this $me of day, people were lined up to touch and tap their heads on the statue of Saint James. I stood in line to do the same, feeling a sense of $melessness as my fingers slid into the soapy marble indenta$ons carved by centuries of pilgrims before me.

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Cathedral at Santiago de Compostela 74

At noon, a mass began for those who had completed their pilgrimage along the Camino to the Cathedral of San$ago. I paused behind a young man kneeling in prayer, his backpack beside him. A nun started to sing, her voice high and pure. The tune was familiar to me, though her words were not. I joined in, singing these words in my head:

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creaHon! O my soul, praise him, for he is thy health and salvaHon! All ye who hear, Now to his temple draw near; Praise him in glad adoraHon. Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore him!

All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before him.

Let the amen Sound from his people again, Gladly for all we adore him.

The priest read a list of the countries from which the pilgrims had come: Italy, France, Luxembourg, Russia, Canada, China, Australia, the United States... I wondered what it was that had brought each traveler to this place: was it a repayment for blessings received or an aWempt to escape from personal demons or a way to prove something to oneself or perhaps was it only a lark? It was probably all of these reasons and others that I could never imagine. But here they were, sharing this experience. As a young woman read the lesson I found myself moved to tears, thinking of these people from all parts of the world, worshipping together in peace.

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We retrieved our car and drove out of town towards Pontevedra to see something of this third coast of Spain. Exi$ng the autovia at Sanjenjo, we drove along the coast through Albarino country, seeing $ny vineyards scaWered amongst the small houses along the road. We arrived at the coastal village of Carril where we had lunch at Loliña, an ivy-covered Michelin one-star presided over by Loliña herself, who aWended to us. We shared a monkfish, potato, and pea casserole preceded by melon and ham (me) and oysters (Jake). We ordered another boWle of the Terras Gauda Albarino that we had discovered at Corral del Indianu. AQer lunch we paused to take pictures of the sun-drenched village, colorful boats bobbing in the water near the white-washed houses. Returning to San$ago as the light was fading, we walked back to the cathedral. The crowds of tourists were gone

Carril 76

and another mass was star$ng. The pews were full again, but this $me, local families were worshiping together. This cathedral is so alive! In this place it was easy to imagine the life that abounded around the great cathedrals of Europe a millennium ago, when the church was the center of society. Before going to our room, we stopped at an outdoor café for a boWle of the cider that is famous in this region of Galicia. We were disappointed, however, in its sweet taste and the lack of a “kick.” Walking back towards the hotel, we sat out in the square for a last look at the cathedral. We had not traveled El Camino ourselves, but we had followed the footsteps of others who had, from the $me we made our way up the hill to Vezeley more than a year ago.

Gazing up, I felt a sense of comple$on. I have experienced the majesty of this massive edifice, witnessed the excitement and emo$on of successful pilgrims and sensed the wonder of the God who looks over it all.

Thursday, September 25

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Leaving San$ago de Compostella, we drove towards Ourense, again discovering a new road. The amount of building in Spain is staggering. Our atlas is dated 2004, and already we had driven on at least three gorgeous roads that were too new to be included. The good news did not last long this $me, however, as we encountered road construc$on and lots of trucks. At last we pulled off onto a dusty dirt track which we followed for five or six miles to the church of San Pedro de la Nave, a Visigothic church from the late 7th century that was moved when it was threatened with the flooding of the Esla River. The church is now located in the middle of nowhere, and I cannot imagine any but the most dedicated of travelers going to the trouble to reach it. But we are dedicated travelers, and reach it we did. The doors, however, were locked. Jake went to the nearby bar, as indicated in the Green Guide, but the innkeeper mo$oned for him to go down the hill and ask there. We got back in the car and retraced our way

Salamanca

to the liWle village below. Not sure what we were doing, we drove along the two roads that cons$tuted the extent of the town. I no$ced a woman peeking through a curtain and Jake stopped the car in front of her house, much to my apprehension. He got out and knocked on the door, and aQer a few minutes a man answered. Jake inquired aQer the key and the man indicated that it was not church hours. However, the offer of 5 Euros helped to change his mind. We drove back up the hill and waited. Soon, up came the woman we had seen in the window who obligingly unlocked the door. The man with the money was not in sight so presumably he and this woman have some sort of agreement. In any event, the church was certainly worth the trouble of seeing. The carvings on the transept capitals were remarkable: Daniel in the lion’s den is one side, and the sacrifice of Isaac is on the other, complete with the intervening Hand of God poin$ng at him from heaven.

77

San Pedro de la Nave

San Juan Zamora

We drove to Zamora to see a series of Romanesque churches there. The narrow winding streets made finding them difficult and we had a disagreement over the meaning of the O signs that abounded. I was sure that they meant that cars should not enter, and Jake assured me that that was not the case. If he were correct, I wondered why people kept giving us funny looks when we turned into passages only suitable for foot traffic. I was s$ll having flashbacks of our deathdefying sojourn up the cow path in Seu D’Urgell.

But aQer a lot of effort, we did find San Juan, stopping to note the features indica$ve of the style: the portal without a tympanum, a heavily carved archivolt and a squinch over the transept crossing.

79

Early though it was, we decided to go on to the university town of Salamanca, where we checked into the charming Hotel Rector.

Having only fourteen rooms, it is across the street from the cathedral and near the river. We set out immediately, climbing up the steep cobblestone road to the old city. We visited the Nueva (15th century) and Vieja (12th century) cathedrals, which are connected but s$ll retain their own character. In the cloisters I found a fantas$c green man.

80

Cloister of Patio de Escuelas Menores Salamanca University

We walked on to the University, stopping first at the spectacular entrance.

Built in 1534, it is a brilliantly detailed relief sculpture. The most famous mo$f in this outstanding ensemble is a death’s head surmounted by a frog that symbolizes the posthumous punishment of lust. We visited the old school building and saw the library and cloisters, and then went on to the Casa de las Conchas, a 15th century house decorated with 400 carved scallop shells that is now the public library. Finally we entered the Plaza Mayor, the loveliest and most accessible of the plazas we had seen. We found an outdoor spot at Cervantes, ordered a couple of finos and seWled in

82

for some serious people-watching. Salamanca is delighOully vibrant and we agreed that it was one of our favorite places in Spain. Later we set off to look for a place for dinner, ending up back at Cervantes aQer several false starts at other places. We climbed the steep stairs to the second floor and found a table overlooking the square. The steak and fries we ordered were not exactly what Jake was looking for, but tasted awfully good to me. Walking back to the hotel aQer dinner, we savored the drama$c illumina$on of the buildings. We ended our lovely evening with a liWle brandy in the $ny hotel bar. We loved Salamanca.

Plaza Mayor

Friday, September 26

to

Segovia

In spite of our late evening last night, we were up at 8:00 and leQ for Avila aQer a lavish hotel breakfast. Driving through flat agricultural plains reminiscent of southern Illinois, we made a brief stop at Cuatro Postes where we found an excellent view of the city walls. Once in Avila, we again were forced to nego$ate the narrow, hilly streets, finally finding a place to park.

Avila, known as Cuidad de Cantos, Cuidad de Santos (City of Stones, City of Saints), stands within magnificently preserved 12th century walls. The birthplace of St. Teresa, the saint’s spirit pervades the en$re town. Even the local specialty, Yemas de Santa Teresa, a concoc$on of candied egg yolk that

84

is displayed in most of the shop windows, bears her name. We visited the cathedral and its cloister and chapels, and then walked to the Monasterio de Santo Tomas, which houses the city museum. Most interes$ng to us, however, was San Vicente, a huge Romanesque basilica exhibi$ng Moorish influences that was built between the 12th and the 14th centuries. We found the statues at the west portal to be par$cularly beau$ful. The figures are so lifelike in their expressions that they could be gossiping at the church entrance. Before circling back to the car, we paused to share a cold drink, siong on the wall by the white marble statue of St. Teresa.

Basilica de San Vicente at Avila

Forty miles brought us to Segovia, where we have reserva$ons at the modern Parador de Segovia that has exquisite views of the city’s extraordinary site.

From the hotel, the center of the city, which is circled by ramparts, appears perched on a triangular rock. A Roman aqueduct is on one side and the cathedral is on the other. At the $p of the triangle lies the striking 13th century Alcazar with its myriad spires and turrets. We ordered drinks in the hotel bar and tried to find the best vantage point from which to enjoy the view. We had dinner at Mesón de Cándido located in a rus$c 15th century building at the foot of the aqueduct. Although touristy, it was warm and full of atmosphere. We enjoyed watching the ac$vity at the bar, centering mainly around some giggly young women. We ordered the house specialty, roast lamb, which though oily, was a lot beWer than the roast pork we’d had at Bou$n in Madrid. Our starters were garlic soup and pig’s ears with beans and sausage. (The reader can decide who ordered what.) AQer dinner, we took a walk along the drama$cally illuminated aqueduct. As we gazed up at that incredible structure, we agreed that our experience in Spain had been enriched by the roman$c illumina$on of the ancient buildings we have seen.

86

Segovia

87

Interlude

88

Here it is, our last day in Spain. We’re lazy this morning as we only have a short way to go to get back to Madrid. It’s cool and overcast as I look out over the city of Segovia—the smell of wheat from the surrounding fields is in the air. I hear birds, a church bell, the occasional roar of an engine from the highway in the distance. In a way, I feel as if we’ve been away a lifeHme. We have seen so much and it will take a long Hme of wriHng and picture organizing to digest it all. A trip is really three equal parts—the planning and preparaHon, the actual journey, and then the “debriefing,” so to speak. And that Hme ader a trip is over is perhaps the most important to me. That is the Hme when I really learn about what I have seen and when the meaning of the trip becomes apparent. That is the lovely part about seeing travel in that way; it lasts for the rest of one’s life. The pictures, the journals, the souvenirs all serve to bring one’s journeys alive all over again, but in bite-sized, digesHble pieces; bits that can be savored again during a quiet winter evening at home or when laughingly sharing remembrances together. What do I take home from Spain? A visit to a country I have never seen before—big and full of contrasts—azure seas and dramaHc rock formaHons, endless fields of golden wheat, vineyards tucked around sun-drenched villages, rocky gorges and treacherous roads, superhighways that resemble runways, building-cranes everywhere.

Hospitable people who oden know no English but who are easy to understand just the same. Delicious and innovaHve food, disappoinHng bread, surprisingly big breakfasts. Late hours that seem to work and are not as hard to adjust to as I would have thought. A mixture of cultures, a complicated history. A land that has amalgamated influences from many peoples and come out of it uniquely Spanish.

Saturday, September 27

to

Madrid

AQer leaving Segovia, we made a final stop before returning to Madrid. We visited El Escorial which stands at the foot of Monte Abantos on the southern slopes of the Sierra de Guadarrama at an al$tude of almost 3500 feet.

Thinking that we would enter a sleepy liWle mountain village, park the car, and visit the monastery, we were astounded at the traffic exi$ng the autovia with us. Perhaps this place has a tourist draw far greater than we had imagined, we thought. When we saw bike racks on almost every car, and cars parked on both sides of the road with no town or monastery in sight, we figured that something else was going on. And indeed it was. This sleepy liWle town, with its ubiquitous narrow, hilly streets was the loca$on of $me trials for the Tour de Spain. And we were right in the middle of it. We made several circuits of the town, along the streets that were not blocked off, with no prayer of a parking place. As we passed an underground lot for the third $me, we decided to try it, just in case. We were amazed that, for some reason, it was almost totally empty. Bewildered, we parked, expec$ng at any moment for someone to come up and tell us that we could not stay there.

No one did, so we made our way up to the monastery. We passed masses of bikers, many with large RVs that were decorated with team colors matching the rider’s clothing. Police were everywhere, and we discovered later that

their primary func$on was to follow each biker as he made his run in order to insure his safety and make sure that his $me was legi$mate. Entering the monastery was a bit of a jolt. From all the ac$vity outside, the crowds, the colors, the loudspeakers, the food and drink stands, we stepped into this massive, austere 16th century crea$on of Juan de Herrera. Burs$ng with wonderful works of art, including Bosch, El Greco, and Velazquez, the monastery contains the tombs of almost all the Spanish monarchs from the $me of Charles V, as well as their wives and children. We walked the halls of this huge complex, finding par$cular enjoyment in the richly decorated library with its 10,000 books that, interes$ngly, face in on the shelves. When we entered the basilica, we were treated to the sight of another wedding in progress. One of the most interes$ng aspects of the church was the communica$ng door constructed between the Phillip II’s bedroom and the high altar which allowed him to watch the services as he lay in his bed, dying of gangrene and gout. Returning to the car, we found that during our absence the lot had completely filled. Several desperate drivers tried to follow us to our space, and we were afraid that an alterca$on was going to break out between them. We quickly got in and made a speedy exit, congratula$ng ourselves on our good luck in parking.

89

El Escorial

90

Just a few miles brought us back to Madrid, and we checked in at the Villa Real, around the corner from the Wes$n Palace. While Jake put his feet up, I made several trips back to the Palace to visit the Loewes shop and pick up a few more giQs. We had a simple dinner under the Art Nouveau dome in the Palace. It was perfect. We had sandwiches and Cokes that tasted wonderful as we watched a parade of beau$ful people aWending two wedding recep$ons at the hotel. The women looked gorgeous with their fashionable gowns and shawls, and the men all wore morning coats and sipped champagne. Seeking a short walk before bed, we wandered towards the Plaza del Sol, finding the streets packed with people. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of a peace rally. I thought we ought to turn around, but Jake was in his element and we made our way to the middle of things, where we saw posters decrying the war in Iraq, the treatment of the Pales$nians, and the USA in general. The protesters were a mixture of old and young, families and couples alike, and the atmosphere was peaceful, though the crowd’s frustra$on was evident. Eventually, we made our way back to the hotel. Wow--we had experienced quite a memorable last day: the Tour de Spain, three weddings and a peace rally.

What was to have been an easy drive to the airport in the morning became a real challenge when the street we planned to go out on was closed at our first designated turn. Before we knew it, we were lost in the blinding morning sunlight. However, aQer several stops to consult the map, Jake found the road to Barajas where we arrived in plenty of $me to return the car and visit the duty free shops. With our heads full of memories and our hearts turned towards home, we boarded our Iberia jet at 12:10 for the 9 hour and 40 minute flight back to Chicago.

91

Itinerary Friday

5

Depart CHICAGO O’Hare Iberia #6274 at 4:45p.m..

(Starks arrive in Madrid)

Saturday

6

Arrive MADRID 7:45a.m.; Museo del Prado, (Museo Lazaro Galdiano); Hotel Wes$n Palace: 5P; (Dinner: La Terraza, Casino de Madrid* 9:30p.m.).

1.

Museo del Prado (242): Sat. and Sun. 9:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.; closed Mon. 2.

Museo Arqueologico Nacional (249): Sat. 9:30 a.m.-8: 30 p.m.; Sun. 9:30 a.m.-2: 30 p.m.; closed Mon. 3.

Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza (246): daily 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.; closed Mon. 4.

Museo Reina Sofia (247): Sat. 10:00 a.m.-9:00 p.m.; Sun. 10:00 a.m.-2: 30 p.m.; closed Tues.

5.

Museo Lazaro Galdiano (250): Sat., Sun. 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m.; closed Mon. 6.

Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales (239): (tour: 45) Sat. 10:30 a.m.-12: 45 p.m., 4:00-5:45 p.m.; Sun. 11:00 a.m.-1: 45 p.m.; closed Mon. 7.

Real Academia de San Fernando (250): 9:00 a.m.-2: 30 p.m.; Mon. 9:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.

8.

Palacio Real (236): Sat., Mon. 9:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m.; Sun. 9:00 a.m.-3:00 p.m.

Sunday

7

Museo Archeologico Nacional, Museo Thyssen Bornemisza, (Bullfight); Hotel Wes$n Palace; MADRID.

Monday

8

(Museo Reina Sofia), (Real Academia de San Fernando); Hotel Wes$n Palace; MADRID.

Tuesday

9

Coca, Valladolid, Banos de Cerrato, Palencia; Posada de la Casa de Abad: 3P (dinner hotel 9:30 p.m.); AMPUDIA. 1.

Coca (136): (tour: 30) 10:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:30-6:00 p.m.

2.

Valladolid (396): a.

Museo Nacional de Escultura Policromada: 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m.

3.

Banos de Cerrato (275): a.

Basilica de San Juan Bau$sta: (tours 20) 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

4.

Palencia (274): a.

Catedral: 10:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:30 p.m..

5. Ampudia: site.

Wednesday 10

92

Lerma, Santo Domingo de Silos, Covarrubias, Quintanilla de las Vinas; Real Posada de la Mesta: 3P (dinner hotel 9:30 p.m.); MOLINOS DE DUERO. 1.

Lerma (163): site.

2.

Santo Domingo de Silos (339): 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:30-6:00 p.m.

3.

Covarrubias/ Colegiata (162): (tour 30) 10:30 a.m.-7:00 p.m.

4.

Iglesia Quintanilla de las Vinas (162): 9:30 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

5.

Molinos de Duero: site.

Thursday

11

(Soria), (Monasterio de Veruela), Poblet, (Santes Creus); Hotel Condes de Barcelona: 4P(dinner: Espai Sucre 10:00 p.m.); BARCELONA. 1.

Soria (360): Iglesia de Santo Domingo: 2.

Monastario de Veruela (385): 10:00 a.m.-12: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

3.

Poblet (291): (tour 60) 10:30 a.m.-2: 30 p.m., 3:00-6:00 p.m.

4.

Santes Creus (323); 10:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 3:00-6:00 p.m.

Friday

12

Hotel Condes de Barcelona (dinner: Comerq 24 9:30 p.m.); BARCELONA. 1.

Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya (108): 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m, Sun. 10:00 a.m.-2: 30 p.m.

2.

Gaudi/ Modernisme: a.

Sagrada Familia (110): 9:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m. b.

Casa Mila (111): 10:00 a.m.-8:00 p.m. c.

Palau Guell (105): 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-8:00 p.m., closed Sun. d.

Parc Guell (112): 10:00 a.m.-8:00 p.m. e.

La Pedrera. f.

La Manzana de la Discordia. g.

Hospital de la Santa Creus.

3.

Monas$r de Santa Maria de Pedralles (112): 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m.

4.

Museu d’Historia de la Ciutat (99): 10:00 a.m.-8:00 p.m., Sun. 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m.

5.

Drassanes y Museu Mari$m (106): 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m., Sun. 10:00 a.m.-3:00 p.m.

6.

Iglesia de Santa Maria del Mar (107): 9:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:30-6:00 p.m., Sun. 8:30 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:30-8:30 p.m.

7.

Fundacio Joan Miro (109): 10:00 a.m.-8:00 p.m., Sun. 10:00 a.m.-2: 30 p.m.

8.

Catedral (98): 8:00 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:30 p.m.; Barri Go$c.

9.

La Rambla.

Saturday

13

Hotel Condes de Barcelona (dinner: Alkimia 10:00 p.m.); BARCELONA

Sunday

14

Hotel Condes de Barcelona; BARCELONA.

Monday

15

(Monasterio de Sant Cugat), (Vic), Mediterranean coast Blanes to Hostal de La Gavina: 5P (dinner hotel 9:30 p.m.); S’AGARO. 1.

Monasterio de Sant Cugat (323): closed Mon. 2.

Vic: Episcopal Museu (400): (closed Mon.).

3.

Mediterranean coast.

Tuesday

16

Monasterio de San Pere de Roda, Cadaques, Rosas, (Empuries), Girona, Mediterranean coast South returning to Hostal de La Gavina; S’AGARO. 1.

Monasterio de San Pere de Roda (148): 10:00 a.m.-12: 15 p.m., 3:00-6:30 p.m.

2.

Cadaques (149): site.

3.

Rosas (149): site (lunch: Rafa).

4.

Empuries (171): 10:00 a.m.-8:00 p.m.

3. Girona (184): a.

Catedral: 10:00 a.m.-8:00 p.m. b. Museu d’Art: 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.

93

Wednesday 17

Banyoles, Besalu, Olot, (Beget?), (Comprodon?) Sant Joan de los Abadesses, Ripoll; Hotel El Castel de Ciutat: 4P* (dinner hotel); SEU D’URGELL. 1.

Banyoles (186): site.

2.

Besalu (186): site.

3.

Olot (186): site.

4.

Beget (284): key (llave) opposite church.

5.

Comprodon (284): Monas$r Sant Pere: by arrangement.

6.

Sant Joan de los Abadesses (336): 10:00 a.m.-4:00 p.m.

7.

Ripoll (306): 8:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 3:00-8:00 p.m.

8.

Seu d’Urgell (344): a.

Catedral: 9:30 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m. b.

Museo: 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m.

Thursday

18

Coll de Nargo, Tremp, Vall de Boi, Ainsa, (Loarre), Jaca, San Juan de la Pena; Parador de Sos del Rey Catolico: 3P (dinner hotel); SOS DEL REY CATOLICOS. 1.

Coll de Nargo (287): key (llave) 2.

Tremp (287): 9:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 5:30- 7:30 p.m.

3.

Vall de Boi (289): key (llave) a.

Taull (289): Iglesia de Sant Climent: 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-8:00 p.m.

4.

Ainsa (283): site.

5.

Loarre (207): Cas$llo: 10:00 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

6.

Jaca (207): a.

Catedral: 12:00-2:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m. b.

Museu Diocesano: 11:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

7.

San Juan de la Pena (319): 10:00 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.; (tours: 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.).

8.

Sos del Rey Catolicos (362) a. Iglesia de San Esteban: 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m.

Friday

19

Sanguesa, Leyre, (Oliva), (Eunate), Puente la Reina, (Cirauqui), Lizarra, San Miguel de Aralar; Hotel de Londres y de Inglaterra: 4P (dinner: Arrak*** 10:00 p.m.); SAN SEBASTIAN. 1.

Sanguesa (318): Iglesia de Santa Maria la Real: South Portal: exterior.

2.

Leyre (215): (tour: 35) 10:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m. (10:45 a.m.-2:00 p.m.), 4:00-6:30 p.m.

3.

Eunate (328): 10:30 a.m.-1:30 p.m., 5:00-8:00 p.m.

4.

Monasterio de La Oliva (264): 8:30 a.m.-6: 30 p.m.

5.

Puente la Reina (328): site.

6.

Cirauqui (328) 7.

Lizarra/Estella (217) a.

Palacios de los Reyes: site. b.

Iglesia de San Pedro: (tour: 30) 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 5:00-7:00 p.m.

8.

San Miguel de Aralar (206): 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00 p.m.-dusk.

9.

Donos$a/San Sebas$an (167): site.

94

Saturday

20

Bilbao, Najera, San Millan de la Cogolla, (Santo Dominga de la Calzada); (Casa Ojeda [Frey] or Meson la Cueva [Bib]?); Hotel Landa Palace: 4P (dinner hotel); BURGOS. 1.

Bilboa/Guggenheim (115): site.

2.

Najera (337): 9:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:30 p.m.

3.

San Millan de la Cogolla (338): 9:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

4.

Santo Domingo de la Calzada (337); 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.

5.

Burgos (120): a.

Catedral: 9:30 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.; closed Sun. mornings. b.

Real Monasterio de las Huelgas: (tour: 50) 10:00 a.m.-1: 15 p.m., 3; 45-5:45 p.m.; Sun.: 10:30 a.m.- 2:15 p.m. c.

Catuja de Miraores: 10:15 a.m.-3:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m.; Sun: 10:15-11:00 a.m., 11:30 a.m.-12: 30 p.m.

Sunday

21

Fromista, Carrion de los Condes, Sahagun, San Miguel de Escalada; Parador de San Marcos: 5P (dinner hotel); LEON. 1.

Fromista (176): 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 3:00-6:00 p.m. (4:30-8:30 p.m.).

2.

Carrion de los Condes (329): 10:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

3.

Sahagun.

4.

San Miguel de Escalada (215): 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m. Closed Mon. 5.

Leon (212): a.

Catedral: closed Sun. b.

San Isidro: (tour: 40) Sun.: 10:00 a.m.-1: 30 p.m.: closed Mon.

Monday

22

Santa Cris$na de Lena, Santa Maria de Naranco, San Miguel de Lillo; Hotel Reconquista; OVIEDO. 1.

Leon (212): a.

Catedral: Mon. 9:30 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-7:30 p.m. b.

Panteon Real de San Isidoro: (tour: 40): 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m.

2.

Santa Cris$na de Lena (274): (morning only).

3.

Santa Maria de Naranco (273): 9:30 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 3:00-7:00 p.m.

4.

San Miguel de Lillo (273): 9:30 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 3:00-7:00 p.m.

5.

Valdedios (160): closed Mon. 6.

Oviedo (271): a.

Catedral: 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m. b.

San Julian de los Prados (272): closed Mon.

Tuesday

23

(Santa Cris$na de Lena? Leon? San Miguel de Escalada?), Astorga, (Penalba de San$ago), Ponferrada, Villafranca del Bierzo, Cebreiro, Portomarin, (Vilar de Donas); Parador H. Reyes Catolicos: 5P (dinner hotel); SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELA. 1.

San Julian de los Prados (272): 11:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-5:00 p.m.

2.

Santa Cris$na de Lena (274): 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-6:00 p.m.

3.

Leon: Panteon Real de San Isidoro: (tour: 40): 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 4:00-6:30 p.m.

4.

San Miguel de Escalada (215): 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 5:00-8:00 p.m.

5.

Astorga (84): site; Gaudi Palacio Episcopal.

6.

Penalba de San$ago (294): site 7.

Ponferrada (294): site.

8.

Vilar de Donas (330): iglesia: route.

95

Wednesday 24

(La Curota), Parador H. Reyes Catolicos dinner; SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELA. 1.

Catedral (330): 7:30 a.m.-9:00 p.m.

2.

Catedral Tesoro and Museo: 10:00 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m.

3.

La Curota (302): route, site.

Thursday

25

(Oseira), (Ourense), San Pedro de la Nave, Zamora,; (Restaurant Chez Victor*?); Hotel Rector: 3P; SALAMANCA. 1.

Monasterio de Oseira (269): (tour: 45) 9:30 a.m.-12: 30 p.m., 3:00-5:30 p.m.

2.

Ourense (269): Catedral: 7:45 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-8:00 p.m.

3.

San Pedro de la Nave (404): 4:30-6:30 p.m. (10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 5:00-8:00 p.m.): llave at bar.

4.

Zamora (402): a.

Catedral: 9:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 5:00-8:00 p.m. b.

Romanesque Churches: many; 10:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m., 5:00-8:00 p.m.

5.

Salamanca (311).

Friday

26

Salamanca, Avila; Parador de Segovia: 4P; SEGOVIA. 1.

Salamanca (311): a.

Catedral Vieja: 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-8:00 p.m. b.

Universidad: 9:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m. c.

Catedral Nueva: 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-8:00 p.m.

2.

Avila (84): a. Basilica de San Vicente: 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 4:00-7:00 p.m. b. Iglesia de San Pedro: 9:30 a.m.-12: 30 p.m., 6:00-8:30 p.m. (5:00-8:30 p.m.). c. Catedral: 10:30 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 3:30-5:30 p.m. d. Murallas (City walls): site 3.

Segovia (340): a.

Acueducto Romano: site b.

Iglesia de San Millan: 8:30 a.m.-12: 30 p.m., 7:00-9:00 p.m. c.

Iglesia de San Juan de los Caballeros: 10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m., 5:00-7:00 p.m. d.

Iglesia de San Mar$n: exterior? e.

Alcazar: site. f.

Catedral: 9:30 a.m.-6:00 p.m.

Saturday

27

(La Granja de San Ildefonso), El Escorial; Hotel Villa Real: 4P; MADRID. 1.

Segovia.

2.

La Granja de San Ildefonso (196): a.

Palacio: 10:00 a.m.-1: 30 p.m., 3:00-5:00 p.m. b.

Jardines: 10:00 a.m-6:00 p.m.

3. El Escorial (172): 10:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m.

Sunday

28

Depart Madrid Iberia #6275 at 11:50 a.m.; arrive CHICAGO O’Hare 2:10p.m.

96

97

Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a three-week drive through Northern Spain, September 5-28, 2003. Photos

by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2003.

98

Green Man at Avila Cathedral