Sada: Fiesta en la Casa (6/24/17)

Sada: Saturday Fiesta en la Casa

In the morning went to “Café Venezuela” coffee shop, famous in my family for the super thick chocolate/cocoa drink and churros. Reed did not seem as inspired by the chocolate as I am and the minimized the excitement level. Also had something of an awkward exchange with the waitress and I think this put her on something of the defensive. Well, now I have a clear memory of where the café is, just off Barrie de la Maza by a few feet.

Believe the Perez/Pena real estate office is just a few feet further down the street from Venezuela. The real estate office was one connection I did not make concerning prospective sale of the house—an unlikely event in any case. Otherwise, good connections made—

The Sada Saturday night fiesta turned out to be an enjoyable experience. One of my better decisions regarding the entire trip was the suggestion we all get together at the Lopez house. I realized our 4 day visit to Sada would pass quickly and took action to get the party rolling. Marisol was at the house with Pily and Judit when the party plan got rolling. I requested that Marisol order some seafood empanadas, turns out to be my favorite Sada food item. She suggested-- tuna and raisin. That sounded good. I asked about pulpo. Of course! Asking for pulpo in Sada is like asking for barbecue or Mexican food in Texas; there’s plenty of it. Reed mentioned “grelos” (greens) and the result was a third empanada of bacalao and grelos. And by empanada we mean a large baking pan and an empanada the size of a sheet cake, though maybe not so thick. The results were delicious. Cost was  62.50 €.  That’s the euro sign! A good deal for so much wonderful food!

On party night we had a huge Sada cheese, the soft “teta” cheese, the cheese that normally comes in the shape of a breast or “tit.” The teta cheese, I learned at Barlata's, a Spanish restaurant in Austin, comes from blonde cows! Turns out I fell in love with that cheese, perhaps a regression to infancy. The cheese we had did not have the breast shape but I went crazy over it over the following days as we had a huge serving in our refrigerator. I wasn’t able to eat all that cheese and so it went back to Marisol when we left town.

Amparito made one of her divine flans. Again the size dwarfed your normal portion of flan—the filled an entire tin pot and made a mega-flan when turned over on to a serving dish. Fernando had delicious plums from a friend’s orchard. I found myself attracted to the plums because of my mother Beatriz’s stories of her mother, Dolores Garcia Lopez, returning to Sada from New York and being greeted by her pals with mounds of fruit. This would have been 1934 with Bea about 8 years of age. The memory of the family history added to the savor quality of the plums.

We got Bea on the phone during the party and the result was a one-hour long distance phone call on my cellphone. I was happy with the T-Mobile service for Europe. Somebody told me the company started in Germany and maybe that explains the strong service and support I experienced.

Earlier in the day, Reed and I walked up the hill on the street on the side of house all the way to Fontan. Seemed to be more houses then I remembered out that way—progress no doubt since I last walked the hill. We came upon an old Gallega lady. Say “old Gallega lady” and the emphasis is on old. The baseline for old age must start at 80 years; anything less does not approach old age in this part of the world. The lady was cutting her grass with a scythe, a sight which amused Reed and won his admiration. She conversed with us—and said Alejandro, an old and important relative, made it to NY and another relative went to Argentina. She had a nice, well-kept house, a box-shaped, 2-storey rock and mortar building like most of the structures, wbut with a magnificent view of Sada Marina and the Rias Altas below.

We crossed the upper part of the town and into Fontan and made our way down to the port. Our walk progressed and crossed the new and improved Sada playa. Reed got to glimpse another topless Spanish woman though the Sada gal rested on her stomach with sumptuous breasts only visible from the side—the famous “side boob” for which we do not know the Spanish word.

I was unsuccessful in trying to secure cash at the ATM machine, the bank alcove, across our side street. After I paid Marisol for the 3 beautiful empanadas I had less cash than comfortable with, something to worry about but a problem solved later on with a stop at ABanca. I come from family of worriers, after all, and have learned my lessons well.

A Coruna: Sardinas and Too Many Steps (6/23/17)

 Took the 9:55 bus from our Sada front door to A Coruna for a 12:00 noon meeting with lawyer Maria del Carmen. Her address on Outeiro seemed a bit remote from the parts of A Coruna I had visited in the past. We hung around the bus station in Coruna to ask about Monday’s trip to San Vicete de la Barquera (mear Comillas) but went to the wrong information window. So we headed out over the pedestrian passageway and into the streets—and quickly got lost, Google Maps and all. Went back to bus station and got a cab to Maria’s office.

Reed hung out at “the Fireplace” café, “La Lareira,” while I spoke to Maria del Carmen. Getting into her building and office had a slight Kafkaesque spookiness to it, through a confusing lobby, elevator, and secured suite of offices—but it worked—and we settled into a conversation. She seemed surprised when I walked in. I kind of recognized her from 8 years earlier. I said her name, she smiled and rose from a desk where another lawyer sat, we did the double kiss and she ushered me into her office.

I learned that George, Anne and I are still considered owners of ½ of the house. Beatriz’s efforts with the lawyer seem to have established her ownership of ½ the house—originally Carmen’s ½ of the house. I understand that Dolores and Carmen each inherited a one half portion and Carmen deeded her half to Beatriz.

I thought the children had given our half of the house to our mother and that Beatriz owns the entire house—from the notarized agreements we provided the Spanish consulate in the US. Sounded good to me that we still have a foothold. Maria Carmen felt that Bea could list us three as her heirs to the house—once the title, etc., reflected the accurate numbers.

Wanted to show Reed the Ciudad Vieja part of Coruna. I have good memories of the area around Plaza de Maria Pita and the galerias— the rows of windows above the plaza. I imagine the 1500s and cartographers, navigators, and financiers planning the voyages of sailing ships to the New World from those offices. Who know? In any case, we never got there. I went back to the Fireplace to get Reed.

I was relieved to have completed the lawyerly obligations and ordered a “cortado,” coffee cut with mike, and a tapas-size serving of “tortilla de espinaca,” omelet of spinach. Really got a generous amount of omelet. The waiter, a warm, friendly youth with a high-pitched laugh, shared his excitement about an upcoming trip to Ft. Lauderdale, including a visit to Disney World. He added some pulpo (octopus) to my order. I told Mona that we ate so much octopus on this trip I thought suckers would start sprouting from my forearms. The Gallegos are friendly, as Rick Steves said. I’m thinking of the high-energy waiter at Costa Vella Hotel who joked he had tried Reed’s cheese. He’s the one who poked his head into our Mercedes taxi and said “the presidents car!” I was full after the tortilla and pulpo and cortado, and feeling some accomplishment having made the meeting with the attorney.

Reed and I left Outiero street and headed down the hill towards the beach. The beach was starting to rock in anticipation of the San Juan celebration—St. John the Baptist, name day for me, and the traditional celebration all about sardines (sardinas), bonfires and drinking. They built a funny papier mache statue with witches (una bruja) with broom and sweeping away Donald Trump with his hair and red tie. Trump was depicted riding a bull and a Mexican guy in stereotypical sombrero and colorful blanket stood nearby. They would all be fed to the flames. The Gallegos seem to refer to St. John’s day as “sardinas”—indicating the primary importance of grilling the fish on the beach while the bonfires burn and the alcohol flows.

I mentioned having seen topless sunbathers at A Coruna beach in 2007 and, sure enough, the beach featured more than a few, well-endowed beauties sunning themselves topless atop their beach blankets. These sights, along with La Lareira, seemed to satisfy Reed with the A Coruna sojourn. We sought refuge from the sun and climbed about a bus, #11 I believe. With the street name Outeiro on the itinerary. We got out, with some help from a Spanish youth wearing a Tupac T-shirt. “Tupac’s the best rapper ever,” he said. His advice was solid and we made our way to the autobus station for the hot ride, made worse by rush hour traffic, back to Sada.

Soon after we returned to Sada, Fernando came by, rang the door bell and presented a huge flan from Amparito and plums from a friend’s orchard, and some embroidery gifts for my mother. I suggested an interest to “dar un paseo” and Fernando planned to return around 6:30 PM to take a walk around town. Though it turned out to be a great walk, well photographed by me, and later praised by Reed—the entire day turned out to 9 miles of walking! That is an accurate count— compliments of my trusty pedometer.

Fernando took us across the Sada marina over to the beautiful rows of yachts and then up the hill to Fontan. Fontan has rows of wooden house with shutters painted bright colors. Fernando explained the paint was often left over from the painting of boats and that explains the bright reds and orange/copper colors of the doors and shutters. Boats are mainly fiberglass now and my guess the bright colors are a more a nostalgic callback to the era of wooden boats.

We made it to the top of the hill and my energy began to flag. As we headed back through the marina, past cafes and restaurant tables, I asked Fernando, “maybe stop here?... or here?” We could tell the local businesses were preparing for Sardinas Night—St. John celebration. Finally he found the place, a café called La Parilla (Grill) or La Parillarada. Not sure. The waiter quickly got us three Estrella Galicia beer and pulled out a white paper tablecloth. Reed felt expansive and ordered a pulpo and a green salad. The meal began with a neat “pincho,” an actual freebie of a fried egg atop potato chops and some tomatoes. Fernando approved of the pincho—and we all relaxed with eating, talking and comraderie. And I was exhausted as we neared the 9 mile mark.

I had no energy, unfortunately, for Sardinas at the Playa de Sada. Went to be exhausted. Woke up, read McLuhan and fell asleep later at 12:30 AM and didn’t rise till 9:30 AM, a long sleep for me.

travel day-- 6/23/17

Galicia: welcomed by the Sada friends 6/22/17

                                                            

                                                                                                   Santiago de Compostela to Sada

Galicia: welcomed by the Sada friends

Hired a car to go from Costa Vella Hotel in Santiago de Compostela to Sada, about 70 km or 50 miles. We rented a large car and driver, a black Mercedes. The car pulled up. The high energy waiter at Costa Vella Hotel who joked he had tried Reed’s cheese poked his head into our Mercedes taxi and said “the presidents car!” The hotel staffer, a very good guy, was busy at the time with many diners, but took a moment to bid us adieu with a smile.

We indulged ourselves in the taxi, cost was 95 euros, including the 5 euro tip, after our previous leg, hauling our luggage and crossing the entire width of Spain in a single day. Our unsmiling Mercedes driver, a young guy with a good haircut, got us to Sada efficiently. We went around a first traffic circle in Sada, turned out to be the wrong one, but righted ourselves and found our way to the side street of Barrie de La Maza. We made it! .... the ancestral epicenter of the Spanish side of my family.

Pily Pilushky arranged for Marisol to meet us and she greeted us with customary 2-kiss and her very friendly, welcoming personality. Before long she was on the phone with Fernando, the brother of Amparito. Fernando, the retired barber, is someone I had met 8 years earlier at my parents’ diamond anniversary (60 years of marriage, celebrated in 2009). Marisol departed and we went to lunch with Fernando.

Fernando took us to a café/restaurant called Curruncho (corner) near the seaside, not far from the famous traffic circle. We got the “fixed menu of the day” for 9 euros each—and with a bottle of Albarino came to total of 40 euro. We had a good salad with delicious tomatoes, swordfish and potatoes, a gallego staple, and flan for dessert. I liked the waitress and enjoyed Fernando’s company. He has a pleasing presence and expressive hazel eyes. And speaking of eye, he assured I shouldn’t feel anxious about cataract surgery, which he also anticipates. We got back to the house and I gave him several shirts (maybe a 3^rd shirt, also from my mother). He interpreted the 3^rd shirt as being for his nephew, Amparito’s son, as it looked larger. We had an odd assortment of women’s garments and hopefull some of the Land’s End clothes will work for Amparito.

Pily arranged to come by the Barrie house around 8:30 PM after she finished work. Time got together closer to 9:00 PM and I befan to fret—and suddenly she knocked and rand the bell with daughter Judit (Judy), her younger daughter. Judi has become an attractive young woman, 18 years plus just a few days, and is on the verge of high school graduation. Her English seems very good and she and Pily seemed to enjoy speaking English around the wooden table with Americanos, Reed and John, at either end of the table. Judi is a big fan of Harry Potter. She told us how she broke into tears when she arrived at Warner Bros depiction of the Harry Potter house in London. She and Pily seemed enamored of London. The trip was Pily’s first time on a plane, first time out of Spain and first time to ride a subway. They liked the British museum and especially the Egyptian exhibit. My father, back in Massapequa, New York, also loved his many visits to the British Museum when my sister Anne lived there with her family.

We moved on to Patata Brava, the favorite Sada restaurant/café of Pily and Judy. Judy loves “pig tongue” (lengua) and Pily likes “pig ear” (oreja del cerdo). Both of these were new to me. Reed steered clear of “oreja” and I could see why after I tried it. Not my favorite. “Lengua” was somewhat better but not sure that I’ll rush back to lengua anytime soon. Pily told me the Spanish saying regarding their love of pork—“We love everything about the pig, even the way it walks.” Fun to eat at Patata Brava with these gals.

Judy has a dynamic way to express herself. He face radiates a youthful joy and a total embrace of life. In Toastmaster terminology I notice she has great “vocal variety” in her expression and that may work well for her ambition to be an actress—along with her confident personality and Spanish good looks. 

On the way home from Patata Brava we came across Judit’s school friend Alba, a slender girl. Alba jumped on to Judy the way Yogi Berra leaped into Don Larsens’s and wrapped his legs around Larsen’s waist after the perfect World Series game in 1956.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roZUjcYj95k

The enthusiastic embrace had to be the most energetic greeting I’ve ever witnessed. 

Alba decided to walk with us to the bank. Judy pointed out the mayor of Sada drinking a beer inside the nearby bar. Pily treated us to a 10 euros bus ticket pass (the discount deal for the bus to A Coruna, good for 10 rides). She prepared us for our journey by bus to A Coruna for the following morning. Both Judy and Alba had the sweetness of small town girls—but with plenty of verve and style. Judy’s mother, Pily, now a grandmother, her older daughter Nerea has a 4 year daughter of her own, maintains the dynamism of a young adult and seems very much in her prime. Las gallegas!

travel day-- 6/22/17

Santiago de Compostela: intense heat for a very cool town (June 21)

Galicia

Santiago de Compostela: intense heat for a very cool town

Extremely hot in Galicia. Portugal endured a forest fire tragedy with 60 deaths on a roadway occurred a few days before we arrived in Santiago. The people attempted to escape a fire in a forest eucalyptus forest and the flames engulfed their vehicles.

The Costa Vella staff provided us with a rotating fan. Our room looks over the back garden, a great feature, and we can hear breakfast diners down below. In the afternoon, especially on these scorching conditions, people sip drinks down below. Reed and I had a beer in the “jardin” and it is truly a beautiful spot. The room has a ceiling fan but the fan is not over the bed, but closer to the windows looking out over the garden—not too helpful in the middle of the night.

Reed and I hiked around town on a mission to find Vide Vide wine shop and eventually found our way there. I bought a Galicia Wine Regions map but left the map in Sada where it sits curled up in a corner of the house. Reed inquired about local wines but the wine merchant’s limited English limited the value of their discussion.

One benefit of the hike to the wine shop was the discovery of Dezaseis, (dezaseis meand #16 in gallego language, its address on San Pedro street) our restaurant for the evening. The restaurant had good proximity to our hotel and not too far afield from Mama Peixe, but slightly apart from the tourist hustle and bustle closer to the cathedral of Santiago.

Reed anticipated the visit and read the reviews for the restaurant. In retrospect Reed recalled the Dezaseis restaurant feeling in very positive terms. I believe his fond feelings were connected to the culinary experience. I had a good lamb dish at Dezaseis but I remember two events much more vividly than the food. One event occurred on the way to Dezaseis where we arrived slightly early and the other related to an interaction with fellow customers at the restaurant.

Incident #1 occurred when we went to a tapas bar immediately across the street. The bar had an earthy feel, something akin to the bars I recall from my visit to Spain in 1963. We were immediately given some pulpo, as I recall, a generous portion and something of an appetite spoiler for the meal ahead. We drank Estrella Galicia, the beer preferred across all of northern Spain. A large, extended family ambled in at about that time and spread across an area near the entrance of the bar. They even had a few toddlers. They settled in with drinks and the bar proprietor chatted with them. As Reed and I drank, a barmaid brought more food to us. In anticipation of the Dezaseis meal we had to decline the generous offer. I like the no-frills quality of the bar and the generous spirit extended to customers.

Incident #2 occurred inside the Dezaseis restaurant when we were seated next to a friendly couple we recognized from the afternoon meal at Mama Peixe. They had extended pleasantries with us at our first encounter. They had a nice warmth, probably our age or older and seemed prosperous and experienced travelers. They had a slight accent when speaking English. Reed, as he had done in Paris, told the waiter he wanted to treat the couple to dessert and be sure to put the charge on our bill. Once told of Reed’s intention the couple became super animated and friendly. My main recollection was they were from Israel, had grandchildren there and were continuing their trip to the United States and up to Alaska. Again, I was stunned to see such happiness and openness be inspired by Reed’s act of generosity. And, I’m not sure they ever ordered dessert. I saw no charge on our bill. I like the atmosphere of Dezaseis. You walk downstairs into the restaurant producing a cave-like effect. During this heat wave the move downstairs seemed to cool things down. We had a good view of the bar area and the restaurant has lively movement to it, a kind of chic ambience but in a relaxed, provincial setting where things are less charged and urbane. I can see why it has a great reputation, recommended by Rick Steves, the ultimate recommendation for a restaurant to receive.

A few quick memories of the streets of Santiago:

1)   We met Elode, a young French woman, a teacher of English as a Second Language. She ate breakfast and jotted notes in a journal in the Costa Vella garden. We recognized her later that day on the cobblestone streets and Reed invited her to join us at Dezaseis that evening. She didn’t show up—but as we got close to our hotel later that evening Reed spied her having a drink with a young man closer to her age than us. He couldn’t resist, stepped into the bar and greeted her.

2)   Reed got short-changed by a vegetable vendor in the Santiago de Compostela marketplace. He realized she gave him 20 centavos back on 1 ½ euro purchase of plums, instead of the 50 centavos due him. He wrestled with whether to confront her over such a trifling amount. The way she reacted, grumbling under her breath but giving him the money quickly so other customers would not overhear, made it obvious she knew what she had done.

3)   I bought a series of brightly colored postcards, each with a drawing of a local town or city on front. I bought them because I like the sound of their names, all of them recognizable from my Mom’s talking about them. I mailed them out but will list the municipalities here. And I learned the Spanish word for envelope-- sobre:

a.    Vigo

b.   Pontevedra

c.    Lugo

d.   A Coruna

e.    Ourense

f.     Santiago de Compostela

Other good news is that my blog suddenly achieved a but of hits—and uptick for johntheoreport. My entry entitled  “Barcelona: Gaudi’s Vision provides a break from Gargoyles” sparked some interest.  I’m talking modest numbers compared to Justin Bieber and the Kardashians. I got 63 hits in a day and over 200 for the week. Viva Gaudi!