Santiago de Compostela: living the good life (June 20)

La Vida Buena: Mama Peixe and Costa Vella

If I was only allowed to make two recommendations for Spanish travel… I would recommend a restaurant called Mama Peixe and Hotel Costa Vella, both businesses within a block or two of each other.

Hotel Costa Vella gets very positive mention by Rick Steves, patron saint of middle class travelers, and that’s how we found out about it. No need for me to pat myself on the back for a recommendation already made by Mr. Steves. He has such a wide audience and the Hotel Costa Vella has, no doubt, been well-discovered and thoroughly uncovered. The hotel is a pleasing combination of great ambience, friendly staff and a beautiful garden available for breakfast and afternoon drinks. We arrived in the middle of a heat wave and the garden provided a relaxed breakfast nook and a great happy hour retreat when the temperature hit an unseasonably 90 degrees. Our room had a nice view overlooking the hilly agricultural and residential environs just beyond Santiago de Compostela.

Antonio, the Costa Vella concierge, eagerly helped me when I tried to reach Sada by phone and couldn’t make the connection with my cellphone. They got the Sada friends on the line. I spoke to Pily and communicated our exact time of arrival in order to meet Marisol at the family house. This would be the completion of my pilgrimage—back to the house where my mother was born in 1926.

The other hotel clerk agreed to put Reed’s fancy cheeses in the hotel refrigerator and joked when he returned them to Reed that “they tasted really good.” When the black Mercedes arrived to take us the last leg to Sada the same guy teased us calling it “the president’s car.” I guess the 12 hour train ride across Spain did us in and we decided to treat ourselves to a taxi ride the last 30 miles or so to Sada.

The other great service provided by the Costa Vella staff was the recommendation of Mama Peixe restaurant, a “taberna marineira.” Translated, the restaurant is Mama Fish—and it is well-named. We got the meal of the day for 12 euros—maybe one of the top meals of the entire trips—a meal in 4-5 courses!

Price Fix:

Wine—glass of Albarino

1)   croquet

2)   Swordfish Sashimi (served w/bits of watermelon)

3)   Cod w/sauce cooked to perfection

4)  Pork—with pears and potato, cooked to perfection

5)   Lime pie (served as a sorbet, in a cup)

6)   Espresso or hot tea (choice of green or black)

This was the best meal at the most unbelievable price!

A few customers walked out after dining with the “Camino Limp,” the pilgrim’s affliction caused by too many miles/kilometers of walking. They had smiles on their faces, either from the meal or the completed journey or possibly both.

Here is the address:

Mama Peixe

Rua de Algalia de Arriba 45

15704 Santiago de Compostela

Labels— Santiago de Compostela, Pilgrimmage, Camino, Price Fix, Mama Peixe, Hotel Costa Vella, Spain, Rick Steves

 Travel day-- 6/20/17

The Camino to Santiago de Compostela: by train (June 19)

The Camino to Santiago de Compostela: by train

Many travelers to the north of Spain have heard of the "Camino"-- the walk from the south of France to the city where Saint James was buried at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. This is a Catholic pilgrimage of several hundred miles or more. Some take the big walk as an expression of religious devotion; others take the journey as a personal spiritual encounter.

My friend Reed, asked me to visit Spain. He knew my mother's family has roots in Galicia and we will eventually visit her home village of Sada, a fishing town situated above Portugal. So my Camino is part tourist trip and a return to family ancestry. Instead of a walk, we took a massive 12 hour train journey, from Barcelona to Santiago. Okay, it's easier riding a comfortable train, complete with a cafe car, than traversing miles of Spanish countryside.

The Renfe train revealed very productive land for the first several hours. The many miles of cultivated land impresses me with Spain's agricultural richness. Believe it or not, I visited Spain in 1963 as a 14 year old. Okay, so I'm older than you! My Aunt Carmen took mt to Espana to expose an American teenage kid to our family's homeland. We started in the south. We saw arid land and beautiful orchards of olive trees with shimmering leaves of silver. The cork trees really shocked me. The bark had been carved out, to make corks, I guess, for wine bottles. The trees survived despite have big square blocks carved out of their sides. We saw Malaga, Sevilla, Córdoba and Granada. Spain seemed more isolated in 1963. Nobody spoke much English. Times have changed. The average  storekeeper or citizen in the street now chatters away in English before "puedo hablar ni una palabra."

I went to Galicia in 1963 and spent a month here. I come back an older person and to the nueva Espana. I'm glad Spain has gone through all these changes. Maybe when We get further into Galicia, to A Coruna, Vigo, Orense, Vigo, Lugo and Pontevedra and Sada, of course, I will get to try out my rusty, high school Spanish. Galicia is green, with rolling hills, a bit of Irish greenery at the top of Spain. I love the orange tiles on the roofs of the homes. Tomorrow we will be by the seaside, the Atlantic Ocean crossed by my grandfather Juan Lopez and his wife, maiden name-- Dolores Garcia Tie. I've heard the stories from my mother Beatriz and my aunts Carmen and Dolores. Now I get to walk the streets of the town-- my own personal Camino.

Travel day-- 6/19/17

My Four Setbacks (June 18)

My Four Setbacks—accumulated in just 2 short weeks

These setbacks all relate to the image I present to the world and how the world responded on four separate occasions, twice in Paris and twice in Barcelona. They all relate to aging.

1)   On #69 bus in Paris, a young man offers me his seat. I take it but laugh nervously to my friends. (This is a turning point experience—like being called “Sir” for the first time.)

2)   Metro in Paris. A young father with his toddler son offers me a seat on the Metro. I decline, laughing nervously to him and saying “It’s no problem, thank you very much.

3)   Fundacio Joan Miro in Barcelona—I’m offered the discounted senior admission at the museum devoted to artist Joan Miro. Reed, my same age of 67 years, does not get the same offer till we request it of the museum clerk.

4)  Firebug Café (Barcelona)—a young blonde child sits at the next table of a sidewalk café with his parents, a Finnish woman and her Spanish husband. The child is hungry and looks at our food. I offer him some bread and he calls me “Santa!” Oh well, I have the white hair. Hope I don’t have the jolly waistline.

My Four Setbacks—accumulated in just 2 short weeks

These setbacks all relate to the image I present to the world and how the world responded on four separate occasions, twice in Paris and twice in Barcelona. They all relate to aging.

1)   On #69 bus in Paris, a young man offers me his seat. I take it but laugh nervously to my friends. (This is a turning point experience—like being called “Sir” for the first time.)

2)   Metro in Paris. A young father with his toddler son offers me a seat on the Metro. I decline, laughing nervously to him and saying “It’s no problem, thank you very much.

3)   Fundacio Joan Miro in Barcelona—I’m offered the discounted senior admission at the museum devoted to artist Joan Miro. Reed, my same age of 67 years, does not get the same offer till we request it of the museum clerk.

4)  Firebug Café (Barcelona)—a young blonde child sits at the next table of a sidewalk café with his parents, a Finnish woman and her Spanish husband. The child is hungry and looks at our food. I offer him some bread and he calls me “Santa!” Oh well, I have the white hair. Hope I don’t have the jolly waistline.

Travel Day-- 6/18/17

Labels— Barcelona, Paris, Joan Miro, Firebug Cafe

Rambling the Ramblas (June 17)

                                                                                      Barcelona

Rambling the Ramblas

Found our way more successfully to Girona Metro station and realized best exit to get to La Boqueria Market would be Jaume. Got out there and headed to Las Ramblas. Stopped at Costa Coffee and drank coffee with a view to an attractive walled Plaza, with palace guards watching several entrances to the “Placa Sant Jaume”. These Catalonian words make me feel dyslexic. All my years of high school Spanish and what does it get me—tongue-tied when reading signs in Barcelona! From the plaza we walked to La Boqueria, a visually rich marketplace with incredible seafood, meats, cheeses and produce. Tourists bustle about. From there we navigated to Villa Vina wine shop, across from a gourmet cheese shop. Reed wanted to get cheese for our long train journey to Santiago de Compostela. Yes, we would do our Camino without moving our feet, sitting in a train car, crossing the width of Spain, east to west, in a single day. We didn’t buy cheese immediately but instead headed to a Ramblas restaurant/tapas bar called El Xampanet recommended to us by Larkin and Leonard back in Texas.

El Xampanet proved to be a fun experience. During our trek across the tiny streets of Ramblas neighborhood we came upon a group of Northern European girls in revealing bathing suits barely covered by gauzy material over-frocks. They were fun to follow on our journey. Something sexy about a curvy woman, or women, walking down the street in a barely concealed bikini. We had no problem picking up the step count to keep pace with them. At Xampanet we arrived 11:45 and waited for the steel sliding cover of the storefront to be lifted. A slender, wiry Asian looking guy entered and exited the half-open steel door. Turned out he was Achilles, as we later learned, our entertaining, fast-talking, wisecracking waiter. We waited at the front with four German girls. They later sat next to use in the compressed quarters of Xampanyet to celebrate a 24^th birthday party, starting with a champagne toast. Turns our Xampanyet means—little champagne.

We ordered:

·      pulpo

·      calamares

·      garbanzo beans & veg

·      omelet w/ potato, chorizo

·      house made beer

·      tomato bread & olive oil

·      olives

Achilles kept us laughing and when rewarded by us with a 3 euro tip by clanging the bell up by the bar. Very clever Pavlovian method employed to keep the tourists happily forking over money.

We finished the sojourn with a visit back to the gourmet chesses store—and ultra-clean and well-stocked place. Reed bought fancy Catalan goat and sheep cheeses for our trip westward across Spain to Santiago de Compostela.

Travel Day-- 6/17/17

Barcelona: seeking Gaudi (June 16)

Barcelona: Eat, Drink and Seek Gaudi

As I write this I can hear a tape recording of Jackson 5 music. The sounds of kid’s voices mixed with Michael Jackson and his brothers, rise up from a schoolyard where schoolgirls practice choreographed routines on inline skates. Reed and I are delighted by the sounds of the children’s bubbly high-pitched voices full of excitement as they play during recess. I wonder if American kids are getting this kind of exercise? But the happy sounds of children are universal. 

Started the day at Chicha Limon with café cortado and croissants. We asked Julia, the waitress, for a Gaudi site recommendation. We explained we had seen La Sagrada Familia. She recommended Casa Battlo.

We walked down the Barcelona streets southward to Casa Batllo—a Gaudi apartment house with a dragon back  tile roof. Like the look of that place, especially with the dragon being a symbol of Barcelona. The image is very playful and colorful, like a children’s fantasy house in the middle of an urban environment. The Passeig de Gracia metro stop was nearby and we ducked in to that to ride the subway northward to another Gaudi location—the Park Guell (pronounced Gway).

Got out at the Vallcarca station on the north end of town and at the base of the park. The city has placed escalators into the extremely steep hill leading to the park. We followed a boisterous group of Englishmen. One of them noticed an old woman, make that ancient, struggling uphill with a few plastic shopping bags. He graciously her bags while his buddies teased him. One mate said, “She’s going to Valencia.” The ribbing continued from there for his gentlemanly gesture. Gotta love the rambunctious Brits!

We had some fun encountering the vendors on the paths across Guell Park. Reed bought a bird whistle for 3 euros. I took photos of a headless street performer who seemed suspended on a seat in mid-air. Gave him a tip. Just too good of a trick to not reward. We caught a glimpse of some of Gaudi's design beauty from a position outside the Monument. Advance tickets were required. As with Casa Batllo, Gaudi’s talent for entertaining the viewer with colors, shapes and pure playful creativity boggles the mind.

I realized Gaudi’s modernism is very tactile. He anticipates the rise of acoustic space, a McLuhan term as man “retribalizes” and returns to a more multi-sensory environment. The electronic world is an “ear” world and a more tactile world than the era of books—very visual and logical.  Nowadays it’s all about “reach out and touch someone,” and we live in a thoroughly tactile world. “Stay in touch”…. “I feel you”… McLuhan said artists are the only ones with the courage to see the present and anticipate the future. The artist helps us prepare for the future, and Gaudi is one of those visionary artists. That’s my McLuhanesque comment for the day!

Reed got several recommendations for Barcelona from a high class, beautiful woman friend back in Austin, including 7 Portes (7 Doors) restaurant. We correctly guessed she had expensive tastes and the restaurant glowed with high quality and class. We were dressed in sweaty T-shirts, after our various hikes. They accepted us, but quickly sat us close to the front door so the other diners had little view of the gritty duo from Texas. For whatever reason… I felt celebratory and ordered paella, the deluxe version with meat and seafood. And the ingredients included lobster, fish, calamari, mussels and shrimp. Reed’s influence in the direction of culinary appreciation has been helpful. The dish did not disappoint. Reed ordered bacalao fish and a green salad. We both had beer and, all in all, felt kind of inspiring to dine in glorious surroundings—the golden lighting, the expensive furnishings, and the well-heeled customers. The lunch reminded me of my 1963 tour of Spain with my Aunt Carmen in 1963. Carmen took me to refined Spanish and Portuguese hotels and restaurants throughout or two-month trek. I was a middle-class, suburban 14 year old at the time, but quickly adjusted to the fancy, sport jacket required lifestyle. Here’s to the Fantasy Life—

Little gold plaques on the wall behind Reed had name printed on them—prized customers I assumed. I studied the plaque over his shoulder. It said “Michael Douglas” but I doubt Michael Douglas ever got placed at our louse table, with a water service area just two feet away. Still it was fun to imagine.

We walked to the Barceloneta metro stop and took it up to Girona. We proceeded to get lost after exiting the tube, within 3 blocks of our apartment.  The city is a maze I cannot fathom-- or maybe it was exhaustion from too much walking. Finally we got inside our Roger de Flor apartment and up the elevator to a nap. When we awoke, around 6 PM, we could herd the children’s voices singing down below.

My two favorite Barcelona T-shirts with writing on them…

Forget Everything

and the other had the words like so:

Yesterday

Today

Tomorrow

The people in Spain like T-shirts with words printed in English.

Travel Day-- 6/16/17