La aventura extremeña :: 3º parte :: Trujillo

Sunday morning brought us, the tired bunch we were from late night festivities on a long Saturday, on a short bus ride to Trujillo. What is in Trujillo? Well, an old town (shock!), a cathedral (surprise!), and a castle (¡no me digas!). An a pretty cool Plaza Mayor that is supposed to be traffic free but some ingenious tour bus driver decided to break free from the chains of signs stating "No entrar" and the like and just barged right into the center of the square and let off a busload of old people tourists-- the worst kind. 

We walked through the tiny streets of the old part of town, constantly uphill, stopping to have certain buildings pointed out to us. If I recall correctly and this was the right city (checking my photos, yes I'm right) Francisco Pizarro's house is still standing. That's right, the man that viciously conquered the Incas lived in Trujillo. Now he has two cats perching on his stoop outside.

We headed up, up, up! Up til we reached the absolute highest point in Trujillo, which reminded me a lot of Toledo in how the old part of the city, walled in and all, was built on a hill...so when you get to the top you have an absolutely stunning and majestic view of the city, town, and countryside surrounding for miles (or kilometers!). It also helps when at the top of this ice cream birthday cake of wonder is a castle piercing into the sky. A castle you can romp around in, running from wall to wall, from tower to tower and almost falling over the edge between the cracks in the stone walls. Be warned, afraid of heights? -- the castle at Trujillo is not for you. Oh heck, just go up there anyways, it's such a beautiful sight -- just hold on. There was no singular point where I could view everything at one point (and subsequently get a 360º panorama -- boo), so I ended up literally running around on top of the castle to all parts and sorts of towers trying to see as much as I could. On one side, the old town winding down to Plaza Mayor and the sprawling city behind it, from there the freeway leading us back to Madrid, and even further a mountain thrusting itself up in the horizon. 

The other side -- to the left -- a large field of solar panels soaking up the noon day sun, cattle on a ranch swaggering around a desolate field containing one, maybe two, trees. And sheep, and goats, and more. Vultures circling around a herd of cows further on in the horizon, perhaps there laid a dead one-- after all, after a while I didn't see the vultures in the sky anymore. And everywhere, billowy white clouds in the sky, casting their gigantic shadows over large sections of the land set out before my eyes. One of those rare moments where that shadow you always feel move over head when a cloud covers the sun -- you actually get to see what it looks like from afar and above. There is the cloud, there the sun high up in the blue sky and below them both a large mass of darkness. The cloud slowly blows past and the farmers tending their herd below bask again in the sunlight, looking up and seeing light and looking around and seeing golden fields -- never knowing if only they were covered up in that shadow cast by the clouds nor how far it reached nor who observed this minutiae of nature.

Then we had lunch. Not our normal menú del día, though we're sure that's what we wanted. The problem with such a smaller, largely tourist town is that eating anywhere is expensive. Expensive at least for us students on a budget. We headed down to the new town and found one of the few bars that was open. No menú but we'll suffice and sit down anyways, taking up their whole comedor. Remember, Extremadura -- best jamón in the world. Okay, now what should I order? A bocadillo de jamón ibérico? Bingo. Oh, kinda hungry, so toss in a boca de tortilla con atún. Never had it before, gotta try something new, right?

The jamón came first and I was beyond pleased and delighted. I was in floating off my chair from the ecstasy produced by this ethereal ham. Ham. Yes, the meat I absolutely hate and cannot eat in the States brings me to such great heights and states of being in Spain. What a wonderful world. The beautiful thing about jamón ibérico is that it is so damn good, sorry -- great, that it needs nothing else. It's not like the deli meat you get in America, it doesn't need mayonnaise, nor cheese, nor lettuce, nor mustard, nor pepper, nor oregano, nor butter. No, all you need with jamón ibérico is jamón ibérico. Place that on quality bread and you have one of the best sandwiches you could ever possibly have. That's what I had. Too bad I still had a boca de tortilla con atún coming. Should have eaten that one first. 

We hopped back on the bus and headed (home) to Alcalá. We arrived too early for me to justify going back home, still living off the high of the weekend. I hate those bus rides back home since they're always filled with uneasiness and anxiety. I don't want the journey to end. Even the ride I enjoy. I wish it took longer to get to Alcalá from Trujillo but it doesn't. So I get back, chilled for a while in the plaza and headed home. Defeated. The last CIEE group trip.

La aventura extremeña :: 2º parte :: Mérida y Cáceres

As I write this the first half of the photos from Extremadura are being uploaded, so although I don't have photos to put into the post, by the time you're done reading this there should be over one hundred new photos on Flickr...so enjoy!

Saturday morning brought us to Mérida, an old Roman town about half an hour south of Cáceres. The sun beat down unrelentlessly on my back, the argyle sweater I came equipped with was quickly packed away as I was sweating with only a shirt on, dying in the sun my eyes were forced shut by the painful light. First up was the Roman amphitheater where gladiators used to fight each other and animals too, as we all saw in Gladiator. If you remember the first fights with Maximus, that's more of the size of the amphitheater in Mérida is. Definitely no Colosseum, but no one was expecting that. Anytime I come across ancient Roman ruins I am left speechless. The one saving grace from my Italian voyage last year was Rome, the Forum, the Colosseum, Palatine Hill, the Parthenon...all of it, I was completely in awe, sighting it and soaking it in, absorbing it all throughout my body and soul -- I melted in the presence of such history -- long gone glories of emperors and armies and gladiators, plebeians and senators, artists, philosophers and playwrights. How many people, I would always ask, have been here before me? How many men died in this spot, how much blood was spilled? What ideas were pondered and expounded on where I am standing right now? How old is this rock I am touching and who else has touched it and when? 

The Roman Empire has always been a subject of great interest to me and when I try to think of why, I don't know what to say...I am just simple floored -- marveled -- each time I am at some ancient ruins, standing in piles of rocks, in the middle of a amphitheater where 2,000 years ago there probably was blood being spilled right there where my shoes dug into the dirt. I walked slowly around the circumference, losing track of the rest of the group at times. Just walking slowly, observing and feeling all I could take in.

Right next to the amphitheater was the regular theater...and by regular I don't mean some lame place to watch a movie or play. I remember learning about Roman style outdoor theaters last year in Theatre 120 and that added so much more to the experience. There's one thing to learn and see pictures on a powerpoint in a big lecture hall with poor lighting, reading the plays that were preformed there...and then there's that energy you get by sitting in the standings staring down at this stage and warping back 2,000 years in your mind, being in the audience of a Roman comedy, with the chorus down in the center and the deus ex machina coming in from off stage at the last moment. To see those pillars reach up for the sky and clouds, to shout from center stage and have your voice carried throughout the whole venue...there's something otherworldly about these piles of marbles and rocks.

And then the remains of an aristocrat's villa. No walls really left, just tiles on the ground which ended up being pretty cool and intricate. The cyprus trees all the paths, I almost felt like I was back in Rome. Beautiful clouds covered the skies. 

Next was a lunch of little importance, your typical menú del día in some oh so typical Spanish comedor. The only notable part of the meal, besides the table conversation which is always delightful, was my primer plato of champioñes con jamón (mushrooms with ham). I believe the first time I've had mushrooms in Spain. The wine was cheap, cheaper than usual -- had a plastic top and didn't say where it was produced, just where it was bottled. Unacceptable. 

After lunch we visited the Roman museum which was much less exciting than the actual ruins. Here the cool artifacts of greatness and glory long past was robbed from it's resting places and thrown chaotically into a giant high ceilinged museum. Lopped off statue after lopped off statue, and nothing like a David laying around -- some cool mosaic pieces though and a bunch of rusted copper coins.

Back on the bus but just a short time down the road we stopped in a completely empty park bordering a river in Mérida. Oh yeah, and there were the remains of a Roman aqueduct there. Which has to be one of the coolest sites I've ever seen with my horribly deformed eyes. Pushing my glasses up and sticking that camera in my face, I snapped away eagerly then took a breather to truly absorb the glory that laid in front of me. A Roman aqueduct, incredibly old, incredibly well constructed, still standing and beautiful, a perfect example of the greatness and glory of Rome and their ingenious engineering and architectural skills. I wonder if at the time people walking beneath the aqueduct in Mérida were as in awe of it as I am now. If they quite realized how special of an achievement it was. It towers above me, I am small at it's feet...the rocks still fierce, 2,000 years after being placed in their immoveable spots, I try climbing and my fingers are cut by their jagged edges. The sun casts long, drawn out shadows into the deep green grass that is only occupied by my wandering dreams of a world and civilization long lost to time and infinity. Too soon I'm called back to the bus and I reluctantly leave, slowly, absorbing the last bits of history as much as I can as I head back to the bus, back to society and back to the year 2008.

Headed back to Cáceres to the hotel, lounged around and napped, everyone, because we were all quite exhausted from the Roman-filled day. After a group nap we decided to get our first pizza in Spain from Telepizza. It's just like any other cheap American fast food pizza chain, except instead of being cheap it's like 11€ for a medium pizza. Did taste very good though. I ordered pepperoni and it came with pepperoni and what appeared to be our sausage as well...which is apparently pepperoni as well in Spain. Some headed out, however a decent size of us staying in in our boys' room and chatted, finished off a bottle we had left over from the previous night. Fun chats and fun times until the wee hours of the morning, staying up later than we probably would have wished unwisely considering when he had to wake, but having such a great time in the moment that nothing really mattered and sleep was a far off and abstract thought. 

La aventura extremeña :: 1º parte :: Cáceres

Since it's still fresh in my mind I'll forgo the Día de Cervantes post and write about this past weekend in Extremadura. 

I remember way back in Mrs. Goecke's Surprising Spain class how, when we were learning about all of the comunidades autonomas, we more or less just skipped over Extremadura because even the people living there don't like it, or at least we were told. After all, extremadura means "extremely hard." It's a very dry and flat region, not lush and green like Asturias. There's not much for agriculture there save for ganadería (the English word is escaping me...but basically cows and pigs and animal farming). So on the very short bus ride there from Alcalá, most of the time spent looking out the window, instead of Los Picos as we saw in Asturias, our eyes were met with flat, flat lands, lots of dirt, sparse trees, and plenty of sheep, pigs, cows, and horses. And the occasional vineyard (Badajoz, a region of Extremadura, has a bit of wine fame too, though not quite like La Rioja or Ribera del Duero).

It was like driving through the American West. But I was entertained. I loved seeing fields of cows just sitting there with vultures circling overhead and the gorgeous clouds covering the sky. Oh, and lots of ganadería does mean one important thing for the Epicurean such as myself: some of the best meat in the world. The highest quality and most expensive jamón ibérico in Spain (which is the only place there is jamón ibérico produced) is from Extremadura. So score one for my meals, which consisted of anything that contained jamón. Cheese is also pretty famous around there, so considering the two trips we took this semester with CIEE, I got pretty lucky in going to regions famous for delicious foods (next semester, not so promising: Sevilla/Cordoba and León). 

So Friday we headed out to Extremadura and the bus ride was only about three and a half hours, much shorter than the Asturian adventure. We arrived in Cáceres about noon thirty to our formerly-a-palace-now-probably-haunted Hotel Ibería, right off of Plaza Mayor. We toured the old, walled-in section of town. I was very pleased-- I always love the old European towns where it's nearly impossible to drive a car anywhere and half the roads no one even bothers trying, so it's just pedestrians walking between all these historic and beautiful buildings (occasionally containing anti-Nazi or anti-government graffiti--how fun!). 

I don't know if I'm dumb or what, but it just took me til this past Friday to come upon a realization that I believe you'll all go "no shit Kyle" when I explain this. I was sitting there in what used to be a synagogue now turned church in the old Jewish quarter of Cáceres when it dawned on me -- how much of history, how much of humanity has been shaped by religion. Fausto (our guide) was talking about how the Muslims controlled Cáceres for a while, then the Jews were there in their own little quarter, then the Christians came in and kicked everyone else out. How there's these huge churches and cathedrals and what used to be mosques and synagogues now turned churches everywhere in Spain and throughout Europe. It's very intriguing to me how much religion has impacted every facet of the evolution of these cities in Europe. By looking at these buildings with their escudos (again, lacking the English word--it's like an emblem engraved on the side of a house) and the visible marks where this used to be Jewish, you can tell, but now there's a big cross there--religion has had a huge impact. Peoples were kicked out of town in the name of one god, they made others their slaves basically in the name of another, they killed and tortured, they built and built and built. Bishops created universities and built towns around them (like Alcalá de Henares) -- so much has been done out of belief in a god. And I never really noticed that until just this past weekend. It's crazy to think about it, how some of these towns might never have been built nor prospered without the church, mosque, or synagogue in the center. I know for sure they'd be completely different if those places didn't exist, but in what way, I wonder.

So the old town was pretty cool, I came upon a revelation that I still don't have an answer to, and got to see and touch things built 2,000 years ago --and of course take plenty of photos for all of you to see, later. We went back to the hotel, headed to the balcony in one of the girls' rooms, cracked open a bottle of wine as we watched the city get ready for the evening and the start of a music festival in Plaza Mayor. Maya pointed out something to me on the balcony that I suppose I had only thought of in passing before, as I was mentioning how much I loved that cars couldn't drive down a lot of the streets, especially by Plaza Mayor, and so there was foot traffic everywhere. She mentioned how cool it was to see everyone, of every age out around town -- young kids, high schoolers, college kids, couples in their 30's, 40's, 50's, and grandparents, old couples walking around, hand-in-hand, slowly creeping down the street with canes in hand. Dads wearing faded pink pants and navy blue sweaters walking with his two young daughters in hand. Teenagers with shopping bags full of cheap wine and Coke -- older men carrying plastic liter cups of beer. Twenty-something women, decked out in their oh-so-European leggings, scarves, boots, purses, hats, and coats. The streets were full of life -- full of something you don't really see in America -- people, together, of all ages and lifestyles enjoying the night air and atmosphere, chilling in the plaza -- not cooped up in their respective houses, enclosing themselves in, hiding from the rest of the world.

Dinner was a pleasant surprise to me. We found a menú del día and I went against my paella rule, instead opting for arroz a la cubana. Because as we all know by now, I need to try and later love anything Cuban. It is white rice, with a fried egg on top, surrounded by cold, ketchup-like tomato sauce. I mixed it all together and devoured it all in a matter of minutes. It was delicious, it was amazing, and I could not get enough of it. I am anticipating next semester when this can be my cheap and easy meal that I have everyday for lunch or dinner, or hell, even breakfast. The wine was alright but I was disappointed that it didn't include much more than a glass--something that just shouldn't happen with a menú del día.

Afterwards was a mini-botellón in the girls' room. We picked up some Fanta Limón and ice from a nearby alimentación and headed to our hotel. We were stopped by police who were guarding any street heading towards the plaza, because at this time the music was starting. They said the ice could be used as rocks to throw at the stage or something. Perhaps this was a common problem. We told them we were going to our hotel that was right off the plaza and one of them escorted us there. 

I ended up going out to the concert later briefly. Listened for about a minute, then Rebeca decided to head back in so I joined her, was pretty tired myself. First day in Extremadura -- count it as a success.