The Continuing Adventures of Bungalow Jeff and PoJamma

Day 1 - Paris/Lisbon

So it wouldn’t be an adventure without some adventure. We sat on the plane for an hour while they sorted out the baggage situation. I listened to “Gilded Palace of Sin” and I must say it was surreal. Most screens I could see were playing 3 Billboards. They finally explained that they were having difficulty scanning the cans that they pack the luggage in so it was impossible to balance the load until they could. We have plenty of layover time in Paris so take your time and get it right. We took off half an hour + late but then all was smooth. The chicken must have been named piccata because that was the only thing piccata about it. Classic mistake. I should have gone with the pasta. Always the pasta. They brought Pam a Veggie meal with a black bean loaf affair that was mostly tasty and definitely filling. She stole my fudge brownie dessert. I’m used to it. 2 vodka drinks, a glass of house red, 1 ½ Pammyzannies and wake me up in Paris.That nice cushion layover was now reduced by 30 min. I remained remarkably calm. Not everyone in line did. “I don’t see why we have to do this” while in line at border entry from a foreign country. Seriously dude. Smile, say bonjour and merci then breeze thru. Hopefully I’m learning. Pam finally gets to see the CDG main terminal where U2 filmed a video. The trip is now officially a success. Our flight to Lisbon is Delta but not really, Air France but not really because it is Joon. Never flown Joon before. Check in at the gate, walk down the walkway, down some stairs and out onto the tarmac into a waiting bus. The bus fills and then we start driving around. After a while I get the feeling we may be taking the bus all the way to Lisbon. Glad we got seats because standing the whole way there is going to get old. But no we are just cruising the airport looking for a plane. Apparently that one sitting out in the middle of nowhere is a nice one so let’s take it. Now a flight from New York is 30 minutes late and we are waiting for them and here they are so let’s get flying. But not so fast. I fully realize I am a 60+ year old American tourist but this batch of people boarding are special. It seems to be a large tour group that have not mastered the alpha-numeric system. Walk back to row 20 and then try and decipher what row they are. Row 15? Well it should say so on the ticket which of course it does so now everyone backup and restart the process. I think they are trying to seat themselves by proximity to where they were on the last flight. Everyone gets sorted out and them it’s time to wander around to see where everyone is sitting while the crew frantically tries to get everyone to sit down. “Everyone needs to be seated before we can depart” seems to not have a direct translation from English to English. Finally in the air and I’m fading. This day is going to be powered by copious amounts of coffee and sheer determination.

OK this has been a looong day. We got off the plane in Lisbon, recovered our luggage with no problems getting to the correct baggage claim or losing Pam this time. Our driver met us and check in was a breeze. FIrst things first, time to head to the grocery store. This one, Pingo Doce, is located in the SanApolónia train station right around the corner. Bread, wine, fruit, sparkling water, butter from the Azores, etc. Decided to wait on meat and cheese for another stop. Back to the Apartment to drop that, grab a jacket and head out. It is all stairs leading off to who knows where. As confusing as Venice but with a vertical component. We wandered pretty much without direction just following whatever looked like a fun path for a while.We stopped at Miradouro de Santa Luzia for a minute and met a film crew making music videos for French TV and a seperate film crew from Eurovision. Then wandered until we ended up in front of Igreja de São Vicente de Fora. We are on church tour again. Dark inside with a vaulted ceiling awash in an orangish light or maybe it is that color. The little garden with fountains off to the side is calm and cool. I know where I am now and we haven’t had anything to eat so it’s down the block to Graça do Vinho for some wine and cheese. It was 5 and empty when we walked in and they were constructing these beautiful boards of cheese, meat, flowers… A little side table in the front where we could talk to the people there. It seemed like 4 behind the bar was excessive for such a small place but whatever. Pam ordered a Vicentino Sauvignon Blanc Alentejo 2017 and a focacia, goat cheese, tomato, lettuce, celery and beet juice (?) sandwich. I had a Vadio Baga 2012 DOC Bairrada and a 3 cheese platter. It was queijo do azeitao an unpasteurised sheep's milk cheese made at the foothills of the Arrábida Mountains in the south west of Portugal, ovelha e funcho a firm sheeps milk and fennel and a queijo amarelo an unpasteurised, raw sheep and goat milk from the Beira Baixa region of Portugal. It had peppery micro greens, grapes, strawberries, celery, carrots, pomegranate seeds and housemade pumpkin jam. Uma bica por favor (an espresso please) later and that’s a score for a first meal. As we were there a group of 12 Viking Cruise tourists came in and that is who the big boards were for that they were assembling and why a staff of 4 was required. They were group #7, their sign said so. They were in and out just in time for group #5 to arrive who were in and out. We just sat there and took our time. Such a pleasant time. As we were leaving I tried my Portuguese and told them that “Everything was fish”. THey laughed hard. But it was totally fish. We headed up to Miradouro Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen to hang out, drink a Super Bock and watch the sun set. Miradouros are overlooks and there is a mini party at sunset every night. A guy was playing some classical guitar and… wait a minute I know that song… Radiohead’s “Creep”. Well that was a new version and it was lovely. Walking down the stairs from the lookout shows you how far up you had walked to get there. It’s been a while since wine and cheese so there is UNION empanadas. A window in a wall selling Argentinian empanadas. The beef was sauvy spicy and the onion/cheese was gooey delicious. A stop at the almost empty LISbeer for a Musa “Born In The IPA” New England IPA and a 8a Colina Urraca Vendal IPA. One more international beer bar Pam has been to. We’re sitting in some big overstuffed chairs and Pam catches me starting to nod as I scroll thru pictures. Time to go home and sleep hard.

Day 3 Lisboa

The rain may be a challenge today. We got up and had some bread and strawberries for breakfast. It took us a while to figure out what black tea was, cha preto. Pam puts on a load of laundry and then we waited and waited for it to finish. I really think there is a camera in the washing machine and we are stars of some European version of Candid Washing Machine Camera. It is done in time for the rain to begin so we can’t hang it out. It all ends up strung around inside. It’s a small apartment but plenty big enough for us to function. Until you fill it with damp clothes everywhere. Those really awesome looking cobblestones are now slick rocks just waiting for you to mis-step. Ankle injuries must skyrocket on wet days. The walk to the Cathedral is short. It is a somber place. There is a pair of sarcophagi with some persons of importance interred in them but who they were didn’t register with me. What did catch my attention were the carved dogs, which are pretty common on sarcophagi, but this had a dog eating a chicken which I don’t think I’ve seen before. We did get to go up into the treasury and included entrance to the balcony right by the big stained glass piece. Back into the rain for a trip next door to Santo António Church where St Anthony was born. It is a smaller church here is a lot more light in this place. As we were starting to leave they kicked off an English mass so I told Pam to stay if she wanted, she did, and I would wait outside. While I don’t mind being a tourist inside a building I feel like I’m out of place during a service not meant for me. They were doing a food charity in the entryway so I just went outside. The rain had slacked up and how long would it take? A long time and the rain picked back up, and slacked, and poured, and drizzled. I finally went in out of the rain at the exact moment it ended and Pam walked out. Time to get out of the rain and eat a bite. Just sandwiches and a glass of Douro red. There is a shop downtown that has nothing but tins of fish floor to ceiling. Like in sardine cans and in fact some are sardines but there is tuna, salmon, trout and I would just be guessing after that. Humana is the next stop. It is a chain of second hand stores here and in Spain. Pam looked for a sweater. Finally one presented itself and her urge was satisfied. The rain has stopped, umbrellas are stowed and we are walking. There is a door at the base of a set of stairs that is where Ginginha do Carmo serves ginginha in chocolate cups. Got to do that. Up the stairs is Magic Bus Record Store but it looks defunct. That flight of stairs keeps going and going up until after a few breaks to stop and survey the scenery and definitely not because our legs were about to burst into flames you come to Duque Brewpub. But just a little bit further is Church of Sao Roque and the Museum of sacred relics. This one has the wow factor. After that I think it is time to walk back to Duque and see what’s up there. Walk in order a Dois Courvo Hop Fun DIPA and Rage Against the Machine “Killing in the Name Of” starts to play. Well alright, then Supertramp then the theme from “The Good, The Bad & The Ugly” This is going to be fun. We end up sitting at a table with Mary Louise a school teacher from Brisbane that grew up in Paupau New Guinea and Clinton who is in the Australian Navy stationed in Bahrain. Drinking with soldiers in foreign bars. There is a rule about that somewhere. Oh well. They are lovely and we share a few beers before it is time for dinner. I’ve pick out a spot but it looks tricky to get to. We walk as far as I’m sure about and then I start to check my phone for the next piece of the puzzle at a weird intersection. A guy is throwing a tennis ball for his dog and asks if we need help. I tell him we are trying to head to The Food Temple and he lives next door. Blind dumb luck strikes again. I haven’t really done any food for Pam yet. It’s a vegan place and looks amazing. There is a thirty minute wait. Our SUPER dready waiter asks if we would like a drink so I asked him to pick a bottle of verde vihno. He comes back with a bottle of Raiz Arcos de Valdez and a couple glasses. The wait is so worth it. We split the soup, 3 tapas and the main. The soup is mushroom made with white and portabellos. It is silky and has a really deep earthy flavor. Next comes the Couscous with Herbs that is as herbally piquant as tabouli; Tandoori Carrots that are cooked to the exact meeting place between too soft and not cooked enough; and Purple Sweet Potato Polenta with Sun Dried Tomato Tapenade. THe main was amazing. Fresh Pasta with Oyster Mushroom and Asparagus. You could not have made it any creamier using any amount of butter, cream and/or cheese that you wanted. It had none. I ordered a cereal espresso and one of the deserts, Prune & Sesame Truffles. It was good but didn’t satisfy Pam so we ordered the Carrot Raw Cake. The carrot was absolutely shredded raw but the consistency was remarkably cake like. So much so that you forgot that the cream cheese frosting wasn’t. We were seated right against the final assembly area and were talking to the chef, who has only been cooking professionally for a year and a half. I guess we were saying and doing the right things because our waiter came with Lemon and Poppy Flower Seed Cake as a comp. Great meal. Time to head home but about half way there my phone battery died and I didn’t have the cord for my backup battery in my backpack. Oh well, I can figure this out. I did, and we made it home but we saw some streets we may not have seen otherwise. Todd & Melissa get here tomorrow so good night.

Day 5 Lisboa/Sintra

Today we, all 4 of us, have a tour scheduled to visit the palaces at Sintra and then explore along the coast. Up front I have to say I was somewhat disappointed with our tour. Our guide turned out to be more of just a driver that knew stuff while we were driving and then dropped us at wherever we were going instead of coming with us and explaining whatever it was. Oh well. Now that the negative is out of the way on to the positive. Carlos our driver/guide was a really pleasant guy that arrived right on time and picked us up in front of Museo do Fado in a big black Mercedes van. Todd later realized it wasn’t black. It was navy blue. He was not impressed. Carlos tells you something like “Do you see the viaduct to the left? It was built in 1815.” Then he always askes “Why?” But it really isn’t a question for you to answer, it’s just the setup phrase for the rest of the explanation. “Because the original one was destroyed in the earthquake.” “Why?” “Because the ground it was built on was too much sand.” The ride to Sintra is only about 40 minutes and is thru mostly suburbs and the regular stuff or urban living. I find it fascinating to try and figure out what the stores and businesses are that you see along the highway. Parque e Palácio Nacional da Pena (Park and National Palace of Pena), our first destination, is visible on top of the small mountain for miles. You arrive in the town of Sintra and then the road starts to climb. As you enter the park it gets really really steep and really really curvy. Pam & Melissa both are relieved it is Carlos and not Todd or I driving. Secretly I think both of us are too. When you get there it is a bus ride from the ticket kiosk to the palace proper. I wish I could explain the way the bus comes down the road and then backs around next to the line of people just standing in line. In the US it would either have a barricade or a lawsuit-a-day. No one flinches as a bus backs towards them, we didn’t and I know there were other Americans in line and they didn’t either. The palace isn’t all that old having been completed in 1850 or thereabouts. It is a Romanticist castle built Ferdinand II as the summer residence for the royal family. It looks like a red and yellow fantasy. You can see the palace from anywhere in the 200 hectare park that surrounds it. I wish we had a week and replaceable knees to explore the park. It is a specimen forest layed over a regular forest with a crazy number of different species growing in it. There are trails, lakes, the Moorish Castle, villas, chalets, monasteries… The Moorish Castle is an interesting story. When the reconquisition was taking place the Moor’s thought of the Sintra region was so beautiful as to be sacred. So they refused to do battle there. They just left and essentially said let’s go fight somewhere else. Ferdinand’s rooms were very spare. He was a humble guy for being a king. He liked to paint. His wife, Queen Maria II, and later Countess Edla, had the big quarters. You can see the Atlantic from the palace and the cool sea breeze was a major draw. The Triton Gate is creepy and fantastic. The carved coral around it is nuts and Triton is hard to describe adequately. Back down on the bus and whisked away in the navy blue, not black, Mercedes into Sintra proper. The Sintra National Palace is much older. T&M have had their fill of palace visiting so they bail on the tour and opt to explore the city center to look for a lunch spot. I get Pam a mobile audio guide. It takes too long for too little info. The palace is recognizable by its 2 tall cone shaped chimney looking things that turn out to be chimneys. But not for a fireplace. They are for the kitchen. No, they ARE the kitchen. If the kitchen catches fire, again, it just burns up the kitchen not the palace. They were also a landmark you could see from the sea on a good day. The echoes inside them are worth the price of admission. Always look up is still good advice. Most of these ceilings are either wood with paintings or tile. One room that was King Jaoa I’s stateroom has magpies painted on the ceiling with his motto por bem (for the good). It’s not as nice a story as you would hope. The queen caught him kissing a lady in waiting (or alternatively he gave her a rose) and he said “por bem”. Then he publicly humiliated her by commissioning his stateroom ceiling being painted with a magpie for each lady in waiting with them all saying “for the good”. Or at least that’s the rumor. The other standout room has a beautiful domed ceiling with royal crests and such along with 72 different noble houses represented. It is cool. But what is better are the tiled walls representing hunting scenes. In particular the horse’s expressions. Some looked pissed, some are happy, and one has a look that I have seen a teenage daughter of mine give me that says “You are so stupid”. There is a painting of John the Baptist in a nightie. I am not kidding and not being a smartass this time. I didn’t say anything and Pam said “He’s wearing a nightie!” Done and off to find T&M and some lunch. We settle on Romario do Baco. Tiny place up the steps. Directly underneath is another place. A bottle of Muralhas de Moncao Vinho Verde. This green wine is addicting. Pam finds a really good Sauteed Mushrooms with Rice and Parmesan Cheese. It was a risotto and cooked to perfection. We also order the best tasting Octopus Salad I have ever tasted with nice vinegary pickled veg, fried black pork belly and fried cuttlefish. Individually these are the best dishes I have tasted so far. A stop by the pastry shop for Piriquita, Sintra’s most famous pastry. But we screw up and get something different. We need to scoot and find Carlos for out trip to the end of the world. Not as ominous as it sounds although kind of. Cabo da Roca is the westernmost point on mainland Europe. The Romans considered it the end of the world. Along the way we passed thru a cork forest. Carlos tells us that Portugal is the largest producer of cork. Todd hears the largest producer of “pork”. He’s not buying it. Not only that but Portugal invented the use of “pork.” What??? We swap a c for a p and everything makes sense. I was wondering about a “pork” forest myself. Cork trees are very regulated. From planting it takes 30 years to get the first cork and it is useless. It then takes another 9 years to get usable cork and then every 9 years thereafter. You cannot cut down a cork tree. If they get struck by lightning or become diseased you have to report them and they will figure out if you have to take it down or save it. If you take it down you are required to replant one. There are landowners to the south with hundreds of trees so who would know if a few disappeared. The yearly aerial surveys would know. It is lightly raining when we get there but you can see a wall of grey coming ashore. The ocean crashes into sea cliff and I would not want to be in a boat anywhere near this. The wind and rain continue to pick up and there are a pair of Chinese, I believe, tourists that have never seen anything that even remotely looks like me. They want to take a picture. No problem. Melissa says I am the most photographed unknown person in the world. Doubt it but maybe. The wind and rain are starting to honk. The monument there has the longitude and latitude on it so Googy tells me that we are directly across from Washington DC. The whole trip will be north of the NC/VA state line. Hard to wrap my head around that. The rain and wind are gale force as we head into the restaurant/cafe/gift shop for a tiny coffee and a giant beer. The wind is sucking the door open and then slamming it shut. The rain slacks just enough to make a run for the dark navy blue Mercedes. Dodging tour buses and Carlos is whipping doors open and shut. The guy really was a gem. We drive out of there along the coast road heading south. We pass by one of the nicest beaches named Guincho Beach. It isn’t really an option to stop in this rain. So we keep going and watching the flora change as we move behind some protective hills. We get to Hell’s Mouth. It’s an opening in the clifftop that you can see down into a sea cave that gets explosive when the big waves roll in. We were supposed to stop there but nobody is really into it. The conditions are flat out nasty. It does slack up enough for us to stop at another beach just so we can say we went to the beach. But no one, especially Carlos, wants wet sand everywhere so we stay on the paved portion. There is a couple that come running down the beach in swimsuits and run out into the ocean and dive in. For a hot minute and then back out. I applaud them. There are windsurfers out there but not really good windsurfers. Some serious looking surfers pull up as we are leaving. Up north a little is Nazaré where they have BIG surf. Like 30 meter surf. Like biggest wave ever surfed big. This looks like a nice beach with a fortress at one end. There is a fort every few yards it seems. Why? To protect Lisbon. Why? … We pass thru the old fishing village turned uber swank resort town of Cascia. It’s raining again. Do we want to stop and walk around? Not really. Carlos is starting to freak out. This is going faster than it is supposed to. What is he going to do with us for 2 more hours? A quick stop in Estoril to snap a photo in front of Estoril Casino next to the Palacio Estoril Golf & Spa Hotel. That is the hotel Ian Fleming was staying in when he got the idea/wrote Casino Royale. It literally was the Casino where all the royals hung out. Why? Because that is where all the exiled nobility moved to during the troubling times of WWII. Why? Because Portugal stayed neutral. Why? Because they always talk a little more. I’m sure in the late 50’s early 60’s it was way cool but now it is pretty dumpy looking from the outside. Pam said she was bummed she wasn’t in a more glamorous outfit. I told her she was already the most glamorous thing in the whole photograph. The gardens and palm tree alleys are quite nice. They used the hotel and casino in a little of the original movie. Have we been to Belem? Not yet. Carlos is relieved. Now he has a plan and is back on track. He takes us all the way along the coast pointing out the tiny island fort of Forte de S. Lourenço da Cabeça Seca. It marks the official demarcation at which the Tagus River becomes the Atlantic Ocean. But not really. There are 2 main bridges that cross the river. The new bridge is the quite modern looking Vasco da Gama. The older bridge is a dead ringer for the Golden Gate Bridge. There is another world famous landmark copy, or tribute if you will. The Rio de Janeiro Christ the Redeemer Statue on the south shore. We could see both from Pena Palace earlier. The Tagus is WIDE but with a tricky channel. Lisbon isn’t even the largest shipping port in Portugal. There is some shipping but now they are looking at more cruise ships. He talks and whys about Belem until we get there and so we ask to stop. He says sure but if the cops run him off not to worry he will come back. It used to be an island fort with a matching one off the south shore of the river. The earthquake, you remember the earthquake, because everyone in Lisbon remembers the earthquake, crushed the south shore one and uplifted the ground around Belem so much that it is now right at the river’s edge. The rain stiffens and we hustle back to the safety of the very dark navy blue Mercedes. The Padrão dos Descobrimentos monument to the Portuguese explorers that opened the world to exploration and exploitation is pretty impressive like the prow of a ship with Eric the Navigator out front leading the way. We took a drive by the presidential palace. He wasn’t in right then because the green flag wasn’t flying. On past the Jerónimos Monastery and then park so we can wander down to Pasteis de Belém for some Pasteis de Belém or pastel de nata as they are known everywhere else. If you invent them you can call them what you want and Pasteis de Belém did that. They are the egg custard tart that is much loved by Lisboetas. There is a camp that says they are the real deal and you should accept no substitutes. There is another camp that would argue again that it is just hype. They would be wrong. These things are warm and flakey and crunchy and silky and delectable on every level. They are the gold standard. Accept no substitutes. Carlos can now drop us with a clear conscious. We throw one more curveball at thim. Can he drop us at a different spot than he picked us up at? Yes he can and it is on the way anyways so he takes us to Quimera Brewpub. Awesome little drinking establishment billed as a NY deli that is run by an American ex chef named Adam and his wife Racquel. They do have a pastrami sandwich on the menu so it qualifies. Good lineup of taps evenly split between theirs and guest Lisboa taps. A couple samplers to try as much as possible. His Cream Ale and Mango Sour are both spot on. They are out of their IPA but do have the Single Hop in the bottle. Excellent. They also have the Lince IPA in the bottle. I’ve been waiting to try that so I grab one to take home. He does small batch out of the back but all of his production is contract brewed out of the Lince Brewery. We ask about finding some vegetarian food in the neighborhood and Nepalese is all they can think of. So Melissa snags us an Uber and off we head back to Alfama. Our driver played French horn in the Portuguese Nay Band. It is a pretty funny ride. We start searching and are having no luck. I’m not going to accept Pam saying “I can find something on the menu.” Perhaps a bit too assertively. She just wants to eat. She’s been drug to ANOTHER beer bar and now it’s 9:00 again. We get testy with each other and she says “Forget it I’m just going home!” She didn’t say “forget it”. I laughed and said she couldn’t find her way home and I would end up having to find her wandering around the streets at 2am. She laughed because she knows I’m right and I know I’m being an ass. So we go to Tapas & Friends. It looks like they have a good number of possibly vegetarian options to choose from. We walk in and one of the 2 waiters says “SANTA!” I was feeling jolly so I told him “I know when you’ve been sleeping and I know when you’re awake” because that is about the creepiest thing you can say. He said he doesn’t sleep and I told him I already knew that. We don’t have a reservation but they drag in a couple of outdoor tables and round up chairs and we’re seated. The people walking in behind us didn’t fare so well. Sometimes being creepy Santa works. We asked about the sangria. Our waitress asks if we want a bottle? Todd panics. Wait, is it in a bottle? He’s thinking premade in a bottle. She says yes it is in a bottle. So you don’t make it? Yes we make it. So it’s not in a bottle? Yes it is in a bottle. They served us the best freshest sangria I have tasted which isn’t much but Melissa is a fan and she was raving about it being GOAT as well. It of course came in a carafe or glass bottle. She asked what we would call it. We told her carafe. She repeated carafe a few times until she got it right and said “Good, I will never remember that. Do you want another bottle?” Yes we do. They do have a bunch of vegetarian and non-vegetarian options. We order extensively. I love eating this way. Patatas Bravas, Eggplant Canelloni, Goat Cheese Wrap with Walnuts & Honey, Board of Regional Sausages, Prawns with Garlic Sauce, Fried Codfish Cakes, Fried Cuttlefish with Tartar Sauce and Octopus a Galega. Yeah we didn’t know what “a Galega” was either. So we asked and it was octopus roasted in olive oil with potatoes. Fun meal that ended with waitron hugs. “You’re getting something special for Christmas this year!” ”Thanks Santa!” This is a genuinely hospitable and friendly city. Amazingly so. We all head back to our respective homes. Tomorrow is last day in the city. Lots to do. Maybe.

Thanks for sharing. I look forward to reading the rest. Makes me feel like I was there with you...

tl;dr

Day 8 Ekainberri/Gaztelugatxe/Bilboa

So I did it exactly backwards. It is supposed to go rub the bread with garlic, add the tomato jam and then drizzle with olive oil. I went drizzle with olive oil, add the tomato jam then top with thin slices of garlic. You would think by this time I could figure out breakfast. Mikel tells me it is what he used to eat for breakfast growing up. I will do better tomorrow. The rest of breakfast is other breads, jams, fruit, OJ and coffee/tea. It is raining. Hard. Today is supposed to be a car adventure thru Basque country. It’s still going to be that but what’s the rush to get wet. A picnic is packed but with this weather… We decide to leave it. We have a destination but get to choose the route to get there. So we choose to drive the coast. Leave the main road and drive thru Zarautz. It is an old fishing village turned seaside resort town with a fabulous beach and some world class surfing. This means we have pretty much hit the 1-2 punch of European surfing. Leaving town you start to drive right along the coast. The right side of the road is a wall that the wave crash against. A Kilometer or 2 along the road is Getaria. This is still a medieval fishing village that the fleet operates out of. Driving along the coast in this storm is a wet experience. Not just the rain either. The waves are bashing up against the sea wall and I have to have my wipers on just to handle the spray from that. It must be a trip in a real storm.We pull out of one overlook behind a cop, not in front like an ametuer. We drive along at what we are now referring to as cop speed. A word about the cop cars here. They have their blues on all the time. Not flashing, just on. Like they are not trying to sneak up on anybody but just cruising along saying “I got some cop here if anybody needs it.” “No thanks, I’m good.”Ok, just saying if you need some cop I got some right here.” Now we start following the GPS that we have named Bridgette (English Bridgette not French Bridgette) to Zestoa. I know where I want to park but I can’t get an address near enough to work so I input the town hall which I know we need to be able to find. It takes us right into town. That would be cool but they are doing road work and some do not enters are the only way to go. I get to one of those and there is a delivery truck pointed into a do not enter with nothing else to do but enter. I look at him and give the upturned palm shrug of “What do I do?” He gives me the tilted head palms out shrug of “What else is there to do?” and waves me on. If I get stopped I am going to say “He gave me the tilted head shrug man, I thought it was official.” Luckily it doesn’t come to that. Thru twisty windy narrow streets with some blocked for repair do to collapse from all the rain. Finally see a sign directing me to the parking I was looking for. We get parked and follow the signs up to the Town Hall and ticket office for Ekainberri Cueva. It is a replication of a cave discovered back in 1969. It is full of drawings of horses. You can’t drive to it, you have to walk. You go down to a bridge that crosses the swollen Urola River. Overflowing its banks Urola River. It is still raining and that is the forecast for forever. You walk 700 meters up along an equally swollen stream to get to the cave. It was inhabited and the paintings were created between 10 and 14 thousand years ago. Homo Sapiens hunter gatherers using the area as their spring hunting grounds. They hunted deer almost exclusively. Horses were neither hunted or domesticated. They think they were painted as almost a deity. Spirit animals. There are also a few bison, which they didn’t hunt, just a couple deer which they did, the odd fish or two and a mother/cub pair of cave bear. These were really big bears that have gone extinct. Hopefully they had awoken and moved on when you arrived in the spring. We are the only two brave/dumb enough to walk up there in the pouring rain along a flooded stream for the 1:00 tour. It was nice to have the museum guide to ourselves and there wasn’t a lot of chatter. You are supposed to experience it quietly. The walk up in the rain made you appreciate a good cave. All of this is the story of the last mini Ice age (I think). The mountain tops (max 1500 metersish) were permanently snow covered and the valleys only were snow free during the late spring and summer. Find a cave, build a fire, do some deer hunting, gather some mushrooms and paint some horses. And not get eaten by cave bears. After a spin thru the museum we walk back to town along the even swollener stream with a bunch of kids on a field trip. Some are wearing baskets on their heads. A bit further up the swelling by the moment stream from the cave is an associated school. It is a big field trip destination They teach skills appropriate to the era like basket weaving and fighting cave bears and such. Even further upstream is the actual cave. It was a real battle in 1969 to protect and preserve it from development as a tourist attraction. I think they have reached a beautiful compromise. Photos are not allowed so do yourself a favor and look up Ekainberri and check out some online images of the horses. They are gorgeous. I, and I suspect we, have a “we are so special 21st century modern man and they were such primitive cave dwellers” bias that seeing the technical skill and beauty with which these are drawn is pretty mind blowing The walk back takes us past Lili Jauregia a 15th century gothic palace that we had not noticed before. There is a tree with camo bark growing there. We also pass by the old municipal fountain and washing station. It became a meeting place for local townswomen. Back up into town and stop for a quick bite at Mollergi to plot our next move. Pam finds an asparagus omelette sandwich and I go for a bacon/ham, melted cheese and grilled pepper sandwich with a glass of house white. We decide with the deteriorating weather to go to Bilbao instead of Gaztelugatxe. Pam goes across the street to the ticket office/gift shop (everyone that is surprised by that raise your hand… didn’t think so) and I plot course. What the heck Pam really want to go to Gaztelugatxe so let’s take a shot. Still raining as we leave town and head in the direction of Bilbao and then past it. Pam doesn’t pay attention to where I am taking her she just rides along. By the way, I wish there was a turn off pronunciation feature to Bridgette. Her trying to say “Gaztelugatxe” isn’t helpful. You or I trying to say “Gaztelugatxe” would not be helpful. Trust me, I tried. Blank stare, show them the word and “Ahhhhh, Gaztelugatxe!” Yeah, I just said that or rather I just didn’t say that. On the way there we pass thru the deserted city of Baquio. It is an out of season beach town full of probably timeshares. Creepy. I bet in the summer it is happening. It rains hard off and on and just rains the rest of the time. Well, even if we just get to see Gaztelugatxe it will be cool. I pull into a parking lot out in the middle of the country along the cliffs above the ocean. This is definitely not the parking lot for the Guggenheim like Pam thought. We walk down the road to an overlook and there is San Juan de Gaztelugatxe Chapel on a rock island just off the coast. It is connected to the mainland by a stone bridge. If you are a fan of GOT you will probably recognize this place. We aren’t and so were clueless. It has stopped raining and after some hemming and hawing we decide to go for it. We are on a cliff overlooking it and have to walk all the way down to essentially sea level and then up the 240 steps to the chapel (then down the 240 and back up the cliff). I can see the horizon pretty far out to sea and there doesn’t appear to be any squall lines coming ashore. Off we go. Down and down and down and down and down and down we go, hurry my darling we mustn’t be late for the show… Gratuitous Hendrix reference free of charge. As we go down I can see the low clouds hitting the cliff face and mountain behind us and getting uplifted and dark. It is still raining just inland but not here. All the way to the bottom and already my knees are questioning my decision making skills again. The view is unbelievable. There are two rock arches to the right side of the island that the sea surges thru. The stairs switch back and forth as they climb the face. The chapel bell has been tolling off and on the whole time. Now across the stone bridge and start the ascent of the stairs. As we head up a tour group of 20 or so is heading down. The steps were not made for maximum ergonomic effect. Some are narrow and some are wide and the height varies. We pause frequently. But we make it to the top and are the only ones there. The chapel is closed and it was the tour group that was ringing the bell. So glad we missed that. It is spectacular. You can see inside and there is the prow of a fishing boat coming out of the wall. It was and still is where the fishing fleet come to be blessed. Even the largest, most modern technologically equipped ship still come and make 3 turns to port and then 3 to starboard before heading out to sea at the beginning of tuna season. You can see the broad beach of the abandoned beach town in the distance along the shore in a protected bay. To the other side is another island as equally tall steep and inaccessible. Off in the distance is an oil rig. Still good weather on the horizon. I can see where we have to head back up to above us. Way above us. And first we go down the 240 steps. Now the slow laborious trek back up. I can see tire tracks in mud on the edge of a paved stretch. They look fresh. If someone pulls down here in a golf cart I am going to have to take it from them.We set goals up the path and when we get there we pause to admire the scenery. Yep, that’s why we are pausing, to admire the scenery. And it truly is pause worthy. Eventually we make it back to the top and then after a bit the car. The weather is holding so let’s take a look at Bilbao and the Guggenheim. Drive back thru the beach town and it is like Omega Man empty. Let’s get out of here before the sun sets. We barely make it out in time to avoid the night walkers. Driving thru these mountains is a lot like driving thru the Smokies. It’s like if you just cut out the coastal plain, Piedmont and foothills and Wilmington & Old Fort were the same town. As I thought as we head inland the rain resumes but not bad. It’s dark as we get to Bilbao. I have no real sense of where I am but I am committed to following Bridgette at this point. We pay a toll and head into a tunnel. I need to research toll booths in whatever country are next to figure out what the signs and symbols mean. Almost a disastrous error on my part but luckily there was a bailout lane. We pop out of the tunnel into Bilbao And it is Bil-boow like oow that hurt not Bil-boa like the snake. It puts you straight on the Puente de La Salv bridge with the red arch that runs alongside and over the Frank Gehry designed Guggenheim Museum. Take the first right and you are confronted with a 30’ (?) tall statue of a Scottish Terrier (?) puppy covered in flowers by Jeff Koons. Hit the underground parking deck and let’s go see some stuff. As we emerge above ground the rain steadily increases. Fight the wind and rain with umbrellas straining to stay intact to to the first of several large installations. First is Tall Tree & The Eye by Anish Kapoor. Same guy as Cloud Gate, The Bean, in Chicago. This is a tower of super highly polished beach ball size balls stacked in a haphazard manner. Behind that is Jeffrey Koons’ Tulips. Giant metal tulips. The rain and wind are really going hard now. If my umbrella was the Enterprise Scotty would be yelling she couldn’t take anymore cap’n. Next is Fire Fountain by Yves Klein. There are 4 or maybe 5 squares in the reflecting pool that on occasion erupt with roaring jets of flame. Like jet engine torches of burning gas. The wind is blowing them sideways. Then is the reason we wanted to check this out. It is a 20-25’ towering sculpture of a spider called Maman by Louise Bourgeois. I read that the artist was inspired by his mother in the way that she was so protective just like this mother spider is protecting the giant egg sack underneath her. WHAT THE FREAKING HELL DID YOU SAY!!! Whatever dude, I’d suggest a good therapist if I knew any that lived close to you. It is really wild looking. If you walk under it you are surrounded by long spindly legs and an egg sack with a million baby spiders right above you. If you have Arachnophobia underneath that thing is your worst nightmare. I really really really wish the weather were not so harsh. I took some pictures but it was difficult. We take shelter under the bridge and are up above the spider. There is smoke/fog roiling up from under the walkway near the Fire Fountain that curls along the edge of the walkway and then spills over it enveloping the spider. Thinking about it, seeing that spider emerge from the fog might be your worst nightmare. It’s getting late, we are soaked and our umbrellas are making whimpering sounds so we should find a bite to eat and head for the house. I have several places in Bilbao selected to eat at. Forget it. First place we find with something that Pam can eat is the winner. Berri Iparragirre you just got our business. Pam finds a Mini Veggie Sandwich with a type of pimento cheese and a Coke with a lime in it. I grab a beer and a Pintxo Donostiana (crab & prawn salad), Mouselina de Jamon (Iberic and York ham salad) and Tattar de Tamate con Anchoa (Tomato salad with anchovy). A large group comes for a party set up in the back. The are umbrella hijinks. I order an espresso and Pam heads to the banheiro. As soon as I settle the tab the bartender throws everything away. 15 different plates with ones and twos of deliciousness into the trash. I am now wondering about the wisdom of eating crab and prawn salad, which tasted awesome, that was on the verge of being pitched. Come on belly I have complete and utter faith in you. Don’t let me down. The amount of sugar served with a tiny espresso is nuts. I understand that it is a one size fits all sugar pack but you could turn a cafe into a slurry with that much sugar. Now where did we park that car? Oh yeah next to the building with the green lights raining down the side of it. Speaking of, again, it has slacked some so getting to the car and driving home isn’t that bad. There are still a few intense moments driving along an unlit stretch of 4 lane at 100 when it kicks up but mostly well lit and not hard. If I got to choose it not raining for one of the three I would have chosen Gaztelugatxe to be rain free and it was so that’s a win. We get back to Kaxkarre at 11:20, climb the stairs, collapse into bed and check the FitBit. 21,000+ steps and 151 flights of stairs. That is 1,510 feet up and 1,510 feet down. Good night.

Day 10 San Sebastian/Donostia/Madrid

Same breakfast and then Mikel drives us to the train station. He points out the hotel that Bruce Springsteen likes to stay in when he and his wife come to town. A bit of confusion about how to get to the platform but then it is a easy train ride to Madrid. We break out bread, cheese, ham and an orange for lunch on the train. The scenery changes from snow covered green mountains to a much more arid landscape. Did I mention it snowed 4” in Astigarraga 10 days before we arrived. I wouldn’t have survived that road with snow. I know which line to take and the station I want but not how to buy a multi-day pass, which we may or may not need. We burst out of the Metro at Plaza de España in the middle of the city. Orient myself and set off towards the apartment. Stop after a block to check and make sure we are heading in the right direction. Nope. Backtrack and now we are off to the apartment. It is an easy walk without luggage but is a bit more of a challenge with. Some places the sidewalk is not too accommodating. We find Plaza de las Comendadoras and it is perfect. There are a couple cafes, playground, shade trees and a Mexican restaurant. Cristina our host is waiting and checkin is smooth. The picture didn’t lie. That really is a loft bed with steps to climb up. We will see how that works out. The commode is so close to the wall that I have to sit on it at a 45 degree angle. But the shower is a good size. Unfortunately the hot water heater is not. Out the window I can see a 50’s rocker playing guitar in front of Cafe Moderno. We head outside to check the neighborhood and carry on from there. The Malasana neighborhood is the Greenwich Village of Madrid. It is where the counterculture revolution of the 80’s, the movida, was centered. And Plaza del Dos de Mayo is the center of Malasana. We walk around the square and then to Humana because Pam has not been in a thrift store for at least 24 hours. I tell her I will be right out front. I didn’t mention it would be out front across the street. I grab an outside table and a beer where I can watch the front door. I can see her in there browsing. She walks out so I stand up and she doesn’t see me. I must be in stealth mode. I start to head to the crosswalk when a bus pulls up and blocks her from my view. I have a mini panic like it is going to be a spy movie scene and when the bus pulls away she will have vanished. We have something to do at 10 but it is barely 8 and we need to eat. We had sort of just happened to pass by a beef joint while we were wandering and they had a good looking menu sooooo…. Irreale has 14 taps with about half Spanish craft. I order a sampler. For dinner Pam got the Mezze: Lentil Falafel, Beetroot Hummus, Carrot & Cumin Hummus, Baba Ganoush and Bulgar & Quinoa Tabulleh. It was all really good but the beetroot was too sweet for her. The tabilleh was as fresh and tasty as any either of us has had. I got the Porchetta with Tomatillo Sauce and Arugula served with Whole slightly crushed deep fried potatoes. The porchetta was good and crispy but those potatoes were the star of the show. We have just enough time to walk to the reconstructed ancient Egyptian Temple of Debod as the sun sets. It was moved when they built the dam at Aswan. Except you can’t see the sun because it has clouded over and started to rain. I was tired of carrying my backpack so I left it at the apartment. So no backpack means no umbrellas means we get wet. It was supposed to be a romantic scene in my internal script. We just do a walk by and walk the two blocks to where we were going but we are too early now so we hang out under an overpass. A romantic overpass? No, not really. But then it is time and we head into Tablao Flamenco Las Tablas for a flamenco show. I researched it pretty good and I fell pretty good about this but I still have a nagging fear that it is going to be some Disneyized version where we all have to wear flamenco hats or something. No way. These people were passionate about it. In a word it was amazing. One of the most intense things I’ve seen. Pam too. Ask her. It is a total body experience. There is a guitarist, an older guy signing and 3 dancers, 2 men and a woman. The guitar was fleet and precise. The singer sang with passion. Again not understanding a word but understanding the story. The dancers were insanely good. They are the rhythm section using their feet, snapping their fingers surprisingly loudly, slapping thighs and chest and clapping. A couple things. I wonder if it still hurt when they slap their thighs that hard. Also they have different claps for different effects. But when they dance it is impossible not to feel it. You can’t decide if you should watch their feet or their face or their hands or their… Totally engrossing. And watching them watch each other was a trip. They were blowing each others minds. Their feet can go hypersonic. We wanted to see a modern interpretation of flamenco and later we hope to see a more traditional performance. A drink came with the cost of the ticket and I was amazed that they weren’t pushing more drinks. There was a group of 6 that came in and got seated side stage . One of them was really not having it. He wanted one of those tables in front and preferably up front. They were telling him those empties were reserved. Sorry dude. I booked months ago and that is why Pam and I are front row. He sat and glared at the empty tables and there were a bunch of empties. The show starts and they are still empty and he isn’t watching the show he is having a stare down with an empty table. Then about 15 minutes into it here comes 20 teenagers to fill the seats. Now he and I were wishing they were still empty. Me more than him because they are right behind us not him. Eventually even teenage brains got captivated by the performance. After the show is a short walk home. Plaza de las Comendadoras is alive. It stays alive until maybe 1:30. Not drunk loud but freely talking loud. Close the windows and shutters and it fades away. And I do too. Tomorrow is a music day.

Day 12 Madrid

It’s Sunday and all we have planned is to go to El Rastro market. There is no rush and that’s a good thing. We are both feeling remarkably well all things considered. I am probably lucky I didn’t run into any high gravity craft beers last night. We take off walking but don’t make it very far before the need for cafine overtakes us. We duck into Quequen for a pastry and a cafe con leche and a black tea that comes in a surprisingly not Ikea teapot. Most everything else, especially in apartments is Ikea or Ikea knockoffs. They have empanadas. We may have to visit this later. We have not been eating near the pastries in the morning like we did in Rome or Paris. Paris was bad about pastry. Or very very good depending on viewpoint. We walk south for not as far as I had thought and get to Plaza Mayor. It is the major plaza of Madrid. It is enclosed with large arched gateways entering from 4 sides with the inside surrounded by arched porticos with cafes galore. We have nothing like it at home. Honestly we don’t have anything like any of this at home. And the amount of beer available is nuts. Donut shops have beer. We keep walking and I think we are getting about half way there from Plaza Mayor when we hit a sea of people in the street at Plaza de Cascorro with booths and stalls down both sides for as far as you can see down the street. Welcome to el Rastro. Keep your wallet and phone in a secure place. Pam flea markets better than anyone with the exception of John Blanton and she is overwhelmed. I just follow and keep a direct line of sight on her at all times. It is mostly jeans and fans made in China and crap. Not the junk Pam is looking for. There is a difference between crap and junk. It goes all the way down to Ronda de Toledo. That is at least 5 miles but in reality is more like less than a kilometer. But there are side streets so we backtrack to the first one we saw, Calle de Mira el Sol, and head that way. Now we are getting into junk. That leads to Plaza del Campillo de Mundo Nuevo. Now this is the sweet spot for junk. Looking back up Calle de Carlos Arniches you realize it stretches all the way back up the hill to Plaza del General Vara de Rey. Plus the unexplored side streets. It is starting to shut down and I am going into flea market shock. WE start walking back and start to get thirsty and need to pause. I swear this was totally unplanned as in it wasn’t a pin on my map, but at the exact moment I asked Pam if she wanted to stop and rest and get something cool to drink we looked across the street and there was The Black Mamba. Pam said, “It says craft beer.” So it does. We walk in and it is a very funky place with a crazy video loop playing on the wall and Hendrix playing. I have a can of Four Lions IPA and then just to balance things out I have a Tormo Tropical Ale. Smashing Pumpkins is playing. The bartender opens my bottle with the back edge of a knife. Weezer and Rage are in the mix too. I will walk around singing “Woo-ee-ooh, I look just like Buddy Holly Oh-oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore” for the next two days. Out loud, not to myself. Not far away is El Estragon Vegetariano. I owe Pam some more veg. We take a table outside in Plaza Paja. My map says The Garden of the Prince of Anglona. They forgot the plants. No, behind the wall at the bottom of the plaza. A bottle of Flor Innata accompanies our very delicious Crema de Alcahofas, Artichoke Soup. Pam orders the Patata Asada Relleno de Hortalizas al Graten, Roasted Potato Filled With Vegetables in Gratin, and I order Quesadillas de Berenjenas y Calabacin c/ dos Salsas, Quesadillas of Eggplant and Zucchini w/ two Salsas. Both were good. For some reason Pams brain shut off after the word “Relleno” and she assumed, wrongly, that she was getting a Mex restaurant style stuffed pepper. Nope it was a stuffed baked potato. Quesadilla translate into quesadilla quite well. We take a nice after lunch stroll thru the pretty little garden. Then we are walking again. We haven’t been in a Cathedral for a while so let’s pop into one now. The main entrance to Catedral de la Almudena is across from the Royal Palace but you enter thru the side. The ceilings in this one are something special. I know I always say to always look up but you don’t even need that reminder. It looks like origami holiday wrapping paper on a giant scale. At the other end from where you enter is a giant alter that you have to climb steps to get to. As you walk towards it you get to the crossing where the arms of the cross shape intersects. I had forgotten we came in on the side. At the base end of the cross is a mammoth pipe organ. We glide around taking in the chapels. They are all a weird mixture of old and contemporary but all the stained glass in modern. Not sure who it is but somebody’s statue has a cool triangle halo that I’m digging. We get to the alter and start up the steps behind the people waiting their turn. As we pass the guy at the base of the stairs he pulls the velvet rope across the entrance and waves off the next people headed towards him. Just in the nick of time. It is big and mind blowing. There was a nun in front of us so you kind of give them their time. It no doubt means more to her than to me. The paintings in the main nave are big bright and modern. The reason so much is modern in it is that it is a fairly new cathedral. It was started in 1879 but not completed until 1993. Outside there is a sculpture of a park bench with Jesus asleep (?) on it. People are laying down on it and getting their pictures taken. That wigs even me out. Time to go. There is a great overlook between the Cathedral and the Palacio Real but it is fenced off for construction or repair or something. The entry fee for the Royal Palace is half price because half of the Palace is closed due to a state function coming up involving the President of Portugal. That means that hardly anyone thinks it is worth it and they don’t enter. We do and stroll across the huge courtyard by ourselves. Pretty weird to be that isolated in the midst of such an enormous city. What is open is the Royal Armoury. Apparently the King and President are not going to don full armour and throw down. It is chock full of suits of armour for both man and horse and child and dog. We will see some of this stuff tomorrow in paintings of various kings. It is also full of guards saying “No photos, no photos.” So no photos. As we leave the palace we briefly visit the Plaza de Oriente which is a large sculpture garden of busts and statues. That leads into the Sabatini Gardens. These are just a smallish gardens that give you a nice view up to the palace. Very formal and symmetric. From here we could go explore the truly large Royal Gardens. We had gotten a good view of them not from the first overlook but from the balustrade between the Armoury and the main body of the palace. I would have liked to see them and walk down the Campo do Moro but it has been a long walking day. We walk back by the place we had breakfast and I get a couple empanadas for dinner. We also finally get by a grocery store for a big bottle of Coke and a fruit store for some oranges and strawberries and a bread store. Head on home to chill. I wish, I really wish, the story ended there. But it doesn’t. I know that I probably won’t get another chance to go to the top rated beer bar in Madrid, The Stuyck Co. It is Sunday night and they close at 12:00 so I wait until 11:15 to leave after heating and eating the spicy beef and spinach empanadas. They were good and this microwave must be super industrial because they got molten in seconds. I figure that gives me time for a couple half pints and then a 15 min walk home. I should be back at 12:15. It has just started raining and I wanted to walk by the main square of Malasana, Plaza del Dos de Mayo. It is supposed to be a raging party at night and I just want to see it. With the rain the plaza itself is empty but all the cafes around it are packed and every bit of overhang is crowded with people staying out of the rain. But it isn’t really empty. It is full of Mahou beer cans. Thousands upon thousands of them. There are not enough garbage cans to contain them all so they are everywhere. During the night they come and clean the square and it repeats again the next night. I go the block or two further and get to Stuyck. Good selection of international beers but none from the US. I am only after Spanish ones so that doesn’t bother me. The first half pint is a Chinook Single Hop Session IPA from Dougalls. The beams in this place are huge. They dwarf my hand. I order the second one a DIPA from Cantabria Imperial IPA from Dougalls. About half way thru I say to myself I need to go and so I leave and go straight home. You thought this was going to be a story of debauchery run wild with invites to parties at rooftop bars that lasted until the light of day. No such luck. I make it home just in time for the unwellness that Pam had days before to strike me down. Remember that this is a loft bed with precarious steps. Not the kind of steps you want to try and descend with any urgency. I do so 3 times and then decide to stay on the ground level. The little sofa folds out but I feel too crappy to do that. I end up sleeping half on half off covered by a sheet. A fitted sheet at that. I logged 450 some steps by 4:00 when things settle down. It is not that far to the facilities. At 6:00 I feel confident enough to climb the steps and go to actual sleep. Tomorrow may be a challenge.

Day 14 Madrid/Toledo

That was some good sleep. A little orange, strawberry, bread, cheese and optional jamon for breakfast and off we go to adventure. Walk the 10 minutes to Tribunal Station to catch the metro. For some super complex Jeff logic I didn’t get the Metro passes for the full duration, just the first 4 days and so now we have to add days. And apparently “that” button push means you want to cancel the transaction not that you want a receipt. Ok, find the correct direction for the #1 and it whisks us to Atocha and then Atocha Renfe in the train station we have an 11:20 train to Toledo and a tour with Andres. This does serve as a good dry run for our future train from Atocha. Unlike Lisbon Oriente or San Sebastian/Donostia stations at Atocha you have to put bags and luggage thru an x-ray. Knife is out. I ask about a corkscrew. They say no and I’m not going to try to be clever tomorrow. It’s an uneventful ride there but when you arrive you disembark at a really cool station. We are such tourists. Get off the train snapping pictures of the station ceiling. The old ticket counters are beyond ornate. Toledo is built on a hill by a river as most really old defendable towns tend to be. We could take the flat walk to the new bridge and then take the multi-stage escalator to the city center or… “Do you want to see something cool?” So we walk along the river a bit and take the ancient Roman bridge, Puente de Alcántara, across the river and pass thru the ancient gate to the city, Puerta de Alcántara, and climb the steps, Pasos de Alcántara (I made that up) into the center of the city. They say the views from the escalator are good. I’m not sure they can beat this but if I had to do this everyday I’m taking the escalator. As you come up past Museo de Santa Cruz to enter Plaza de Zocodover thru Arco de la Sangre you see the statue of Miguel de Cervantes. We pause a few feet away as there is a group of 6 tourists there taking pictures. They take pictures of every possible combination of each other in singles and pairs with all 6 cameras. When they start to go for round 2 there is a mini break while they figure out which combo and which camera to use next I step determinedly, perhaps imperiously, into the prime photo taking spot and Pam jumped into position and boom we were done and gone with a few thank yous thrown in for good measure. It was definitely imperiously. We purposefully have some time to kill before we meet Andres so grab a table in the shade at El Foro de Toledo right on the plaza. I wish I could say it was romantic but it was right next to the McDonalds on the square. But the eclair and Coke Pam got and the cafe con leche I got were good and it was in the shade on Zocodover Plaza in Toledo so what’s there to complain about? Burger King was another 2 doors down. I wanted to just sit and relax and Pam wanted to explore some so off she went. I wrote a little, enjoyed the view and had a beer. After a bit Pam returned, I paid up and we went to see what she had found. For starters she had found a little 3 way USB cable to replace the one she had for her old style iPad. Then she took me by a shop and bought a necklace on a sturdy leather thong. When we get somewhere I puts the keys on a necklace and wear it when we go out. I fell better with them around my neck than in my pocket. The one I had been using had to go, sorry Bren, after the 4th or 5th time it broke. It was just a cheap pendant on a leather strap and I immediately ditched the pendant (Pam still has it) and I am back in business. Check the map and we are right around the corner, maybe 3 corners, from a place I wanted to find. I am once again fooled by how small town centers are. I thought it was a hike but it’s right there. Bar Ludeña serves up what some claim, and I believe they are correct, is the best Carcamusas in the land. Pam says go for it so I order a bowl of Toledo chili made with chunks of pork and venison sausage in a mildly spiced tomato based sauce. I know I am not going to be able to say it so I have it in my notes and show it to the barkeep. He looks at it and says “carcamusas”. Aww man I was going to say that. Just like that. I try and order a small portion and he ladles out a big bowl brimming with it. Oh well. Later I realize that, luckily, I did order a small. There are about 6 English peas in there so it counts as a complete meal. It goes on my highly recommend list. Pam doesn’t see anything she wants on the menu and nothing appeals to her on the walk back to Plaza Zocodover where we meet up with Andres. After introductions we set off back thru Arco de la Sangre and the statue of Miguel de Cervantes to Museo de Santa Cruz. It has been multiple decades since I read any part of Don Quixote so my memory is thin. If I remember correctly it was written and published in 2 very different parts. The first is about his father and the second about himself. Or maybe that was “The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner” or something else equally forgotten. The Santa Cruz Museum was originally built as a hospital for the poor. Awww that’s nice. By the Grand Inquisitor of the Spanish Inquisition. Not a hospital as we think of as a place to go and be cured but more of a place to go and have a decent death. It houses some cool pieces like the mouth of an ancient Arabic well, a huge blue battle pendant captured by some Christian king or other in a world altering battle long ago, beautiful ceilings made of wood that are pieced together without the use of a single nail, Roman mosaics and the cross of the Inquisitor everywhere. “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.” But it also serves as the introduction to El Greco and his art. Toledo is known for a couple things. Cervantes spent a lot of time there but is claimed in part by several other places. Marzipan is their desert/sweet contribution to the world. Almonds ground to paste and then sweetened and flavored, sometimes with almond! The carcamusas I had for lunch. It is known as the city of 3 cultures in which Muslim, Jew and Christians lived in relative peace with each other for 8 centuries. And it is the undisputed home and epicenter of El Greco, The Greek. Times were simpler. If you were from Greece you were the Greek. Except in Greece, that would be confusing. We see a painting that is of that family that got painted a bunch. It was commissioned by a convent of nuns. They didn’t like Joe, a MAN!, being in the painting to be in the convent so El Greco painted him out. It was a self portrait. Totally forgotten. The painting was to go on loan for an exhibit somewhere a few years ago and so they decided to document it and that is when they discovered Joe hiding behind a cover of paint. They uncovered him and there he is today. He doesn’t look all that happy. Off we go and Andres steps in thru a doorway to the gated entrance to a courtyard from a typical house in the old city. Tile lined with a fountain in the center and large potted house plants. It is remarkably cooler inside. The bi doors have a smaller door in them that we have seen before. The door knocker is well out of my reach. It is for use by people on horseback and if you ain’t got a horse don’t be knocking on my front door. We pass by a street named Calle de Toledo Ohio. It’s on the tile so it must be real. As we walk the street is in shadow. Thet is because there are sheets (?) strung between the buildings about 3 floors up. It is not for the comfort of tourists. It is the procession route for Corpus Christi. They take the Monstrance out of the Santa Inglesia Catedral Primada Toledo, where we are heading and take on a 2.5 km walkabout. And then back. They overhead coverage is to protect the Monstrance. I admit ignorance as to what that is. I’m fixing to find out. Toledo was the one time spiritual center of the Spanish Catholic world. The cathedral is a big space as most are by definition. The Monstrance, as best as I can figure, is a gold and silver, jewel encrusted tower rich in iconography and detail that is the container for the consecrated host. It’s huge and beautiful in its intracacy and detail and weighs a ton. It is actually 3 sections of which only the top two are taken on parade. The base stays behind. The stained glass in here is intense. And look at that pipe organ… and that one… and that one… There are 10 all together. Some monstrous and some smaller. Once a year they have a battle of the pipe organs where they are all played individually, in combinations and all at once. It must sound amazing. Then we see some more paintings by The Greek. His paintings almost always have a distinct horizontal division separating Earthly from Heavenly. His figures become more elongated and the heads disproportionately small as he advances in age. They become far outside the realm of classical proportions. Some argue stigmatism is the reason but most agree it represents ascendancy into heaven. But what makes his paintings of Christ really stand out is his reds. He was able to achieve a scarlet color that none of his contemporaries or later artists were capable of producing. The main altre is a giant wall of shadowbox scenes from the bible. The choir in Spanish cathedrals is right in the center. Belgium ones are behind and French ones are to the right I think. There is a hall with El Greco’s Apostolados, individual paintings of Christ and 12 apostles. Not disciples as Judas Iscariot is left out and replaced by St Paul. This set is only one of 4 of the original 13 that were created that are complete. It is 80% attributable to El Greco. 20% was done by his students in his studio. Back behind the wall of altre is a domed ceiling and inside that dome is another dome with the edge ringed by heavenly things and inside that dome is a window so that the sun shines thru illuminating the top dome and it looks like a hole in the sky opening into heaven with angles and things looking down from the edge. It is wow. Now to see El Greco’s masterpiece, The Burial of the Count of Orgaz, in the Church of Santo Tomé. You will have to ask Siri or someone to show you because “No photos!” After that we head to the Synagogue of El Transito. Like Maps says “Restored 1300s synagogue, known for its Mudéjar stucco decoration, home to the Sephardic Museum.” of Jewish life back in the day. Always look up. The ceiling is crazy. Andreas leaves us and we head next door to the Museo del Greco and see some restored typical 16th century home life and a complete 100% El Greco set of Apostolados. A quick check of the overlook at Mirador del Paseo del Tránsito with it’s views of the Tagus River and we hustle back to the cathedral book store/gift shop… which is closed. Soooo we head back to Zocodover. Pams not interested in finding anything to eat. We go to Pastelería Santo Tomé to buy some obligatory marzipan. One other thing Toledo is known for is swords or so they say. There are more sword shops than anywhere else I have ever seen. But if you buy on you can’t take the train. You have to take the bus. I guess that makes sense. I get Pam to at least grab some chips and we take the escalators down and walk back to the train station. THe views are good. It’s only a 30 minute ride or so and we get back to Madrid around 9:00.Before we split from Atocha Station I remember something Mariluz told us. There is a botanical garden inside the train station. We have to check this out. Sure enough, it looks like a jungle. Now a Metro ride back to Tribunal and our hood. We decide to check on the veg restaurant that was closed last night. On the way there we stop at Tupper Ware. I find some weird ass bars to drag Pam into but this one is out there. The barback is illuminated shadow boxes of The Beatles w/ Burger King Big Boy, KISS, The Munsters and strange Barbie & Ken tableaus. There is black and white 30’s cartoons of goats ice skating playing and American music. Buy a drink just to gawk and off. El Restaurante Vegetariano is open and empty. It came recommended but this is ominous. We start with some hummus and white wine. Pam orders the PAsta Fresca with a very odd pesto and I order the lasagna. When she was describing it she said it and another dish had tuna in it. Black tuna. Like that made tuna vegetarian. I knew there must be a language /hearing trick involved. Yep, black lentils. She had a 8 page book with Spanish to English vegetable translations. It was all good but we didn’t finish. A short walk home to get packed for morning. Tomorrow is a travel day. In the middle of the night Pam’s unwellness returns and mine makes sleep edgy.

What a great read on this monsoon of a day. Can't wait to read about San Sebastian. Was there back in 1977...rode the train from Salamanca.

*FYI-you don't have to travel outside the US to experience putting tp in the trash.

Oops..Looks like you posted while I was reading about Lisboa. 

I almost don't want to post in here because it breaks up your journey, BUT... I have to say I loved following this adventure (on FB)! When you spoke of the photo that started it all, I was in tears. Does your profession include writing? Because you're a natural. This would make a beautiful book with all the photos. One could honestly say: " I laughed, I cried... I tried some new foods".