Sunday 27th April - Gibraltar

The drive down from Granada towards Gibraltar was another opportunity to experience the superb road system in Spain and to marvel at the extraordinary development that is occurring in its southern provinces. It is almost impossible to travel more than five or ten kilometres without encountering a cluster of hammer head cranes all assisting in the creation of new or the expansion of existing residential and commercial property.

This particular area is the destination for large volume of European tourists and could be described as being like the low rise sections of Australia’s Gold Coast but on a massive scale. The coastal developments are literally hundreds of kilometres in length and under active expansion.

Again the master travel agent Merie had managed to find us accommodation for less than A$100 a night in what seems like a five star traditional hotel. A quick check-in into the Hotel Reina Cristina preceded our visit to the fabled rock.


Now this is confused and slightly miserable looking regal monument. There is no getting away from the majesty of the rock itself or from its command of the entry straits to the Mediterranean – I found that brought some chills to my spine.







On the other hand the place looks dilapidated and unkempt. It is crying out “you could not do without me in the war …. But now you don’t care!” . The poor old place knows it is British but believes itself to be Spanish and is inclined to think it would like to be North African – there has been trivial efforts to maintain the place for its historical and strategic importance – rather it seems to be the subject to the erratic spread of ramshackle holiday accommodation. Alas my boyhood visions of Gibraltar have been dashed for ever.

Lest the reader might think I did not enjoy the day … nothing could be further from the truth … another great experience … I must really learn more history.

Saturday 26th April – the Alhambra

A Letter to the Editor

People of Granada. The custodians of your magnificent La Alhambra have become fat and lazy. They sit comfortably in their offices manicuring themselves like the fat, contented cats that they have become. They complement each other on attracting an excess of visitors each day while their clients and your guests line up at the gates sometimes standing in queues for three or four hours like the beggars of medieval times

If you ask them why they are treating your guests like this they will tell you that there is nothing they can do, that the site can only accommodate a limited number of visitors each day and they will tell you that it is all the fault of your guests if they miss out on getting in through the gates. They will tell you that you can get tickets on line and they will tell you that the beggars should know that they need to be early. They will not tell you that they only open one of two ticket windows thereby forcing people to wait in line for hours. They will not tell you that there is only one toilet and one small café accessible to the beggars nor will they tell you that they have designed the route through the venue to maximise congestion and to minimise the enjoyment of the experience for your guests.

It is clear that the fat cats have come so complacent that they have not subjected their management of the site to appropriate external review nor have they examined in detail the technologies that could be used to maximise safe visitor throughput while minimising inconvenience for guests.

People of Granada it is time for you to hold the fat cats to account.


Mike Rebbechi
Australia


As is obvious our visit to the Alhambra was not an entire success. After waiting in line for almost four hours we came within about 30 people of getting tickets for the Palace and ended up only getting general admission. In effect these only provided access to the gardens themselves. If it wasn’t for meeting a lovely American couple in the queue we would have been driven to distraction by the unnecessary inconvenience of the whole situation.

There were queues for everything – there were queues for tickets, queues to pick up prepaid tickets – there were queues to pick up audio guides – their were queues to meet tour guides with all of this in an absence appropriate of multi-lingual signage.

When we eventually got into the gardens we found that in effect they had created a forced route which brought more chaos and inconvenience as the various tour groups surged up to constriction points like ticketed entrances to garden rooms and structures – you felt constantly under pressure and had to search out the occasional garden seat to get refuge from the incessant waves of tour groups all jostling to stay in a group for fear of losing their guide, missing their bus and ending lost in the environs of the Alhambra for ever.

Having said all of this the gardens are magnificent and site is large and thought provoking. I think my irritation at the experience was not at the site itself but rather because one inherently knew that the experience had been sullied by the poor and complacent management of the site.

I sound really annoyed don’t I. You will be surprised but I think I was the least annoyed of those in our small party – I can only imagine what the poor American couple felt – this was the second time that they had lined up in the queue for tickets only to be told that they would not be granted access to the Palace.

Again the resilience of Merie and Bernadette saw us sitting in another square in centra Granada drinking beer and enjoying a very pleasant lunch. This is a lively, very pleasant, if quirky city.

Lunch was enhanced at the expense of car bound tourists who had booked into hotels in the city centre that were only accessible through Taxi and Bus lanes. These poor individuals, having driven miles across country, then having encountered the narrow streets of the inner city and finally having found their way to their hotel zone, now found their access to sanctuary from travel stress blocked by pop up bollards controlled by magnetic swipe cards – of course they didn’t have a card as they were yet to check into their hotels so they were forced to control their tempers while communicating with the machine in a foreign tongue while taxi and bus drivers showed their support by blasting on their horns.

We are in Granada a few weeks before a major feast day in early May. The tradition is for the ladies and girls to dress in appropriate formal attire. Accordingly the shops are full of beautiful, brightly coloured, flamingo style dresses adored in wide variety of dotted patterns.

Friday 25th April – A parade of Sierras

We headed off from Murcia towards Granada a little apprehensively given our travelling experiences of yesterday. By contrast with yesterday this drive started well and rapidly progressed to stunning and then to amazing.

The route took us 280 kilometres along a secondary motorway past spectacular scenery and stunning infrastructure development. There are cranes everywhere.

We passed through and along various low mountain ranges towards the snow covered peaks of the Sierra Nevada’s and Granada itself.

Coffee in Spain ranges from magnificent to poor. We sampled the magnificent end of the scale at a little wayside café where we sat on the veranda and enjoyed the morning sunshine.

Lunch was equally pleasurable with bread, cheese and fruit purchased in a small village outside Granada and consumed at a little roadside park looking out over farmland and back towards the mountains.

Experiencing adversity makes you strong. Adversity can come in many forms one of which are GPS navigation systems that have yet to learn the full intricacies of the streets of Granada that are sometimes limited to buses and taxis in one direction and to other traffic in the other direction. Getting to the hotel for Bernie and I was a complex procedure – for John and Merie it was a nightmare involving close encounters with Police, steel bollards and irritated taxi drivers.

One of the many things you can say about Merie and Bernadette as travel companions is that they will not let any form of adversity get in the way of enjoying the trip so within a short time of checking into the hotel, John and I found ourselves accompanying them to an Arabian bathhouse, soaking in hot and cold pools, sipping sweet Arabian tea and enjoying a pleasant, gentle massage.

Our hotel is a nice two star venue close to the city square. On a Friday night the square is alive with families, tourists, young people and diners. We enjoyed tapas, Paella (“paya” ) and Sangria before retiring early. We were unable to get pre-purchased tickets for the Alhambra tomorrow and accordingly we would need to rise early to be at the site well before ticket sales started at 8.00am. The chosen arrival time at the venue was 7:30.

Thursday 24th April – Road to Murcia

What’s at Murcia said Merie. Nothing that I can find said Bernadette -I booked it because it is about half way between Valencia and Granada – don’t worry - it will be a beautiful drive – I wonder?

Was the scenery spectacular – not really!

Could we find a decent place to have coffee on the way – No!
Could we find the hotel when we reach Murcia – No!
Did we arrive tired and a little cranky at Murcia at 15:00– Si
Did we discover that there are three different Avenedia Primerio Del Mayo’s in Murcia – Si
Was the hotel we were at the last one we tried – Si

Was there anything good about the day?

The company? – Si

Did we stumble into a little, almost deserted village being used as a film set – Si

Did Bernadette finally get to photograph the wild red poppies that adorn the roadside through France and much of Spain – Si

Was the hotel any good – Si – It was the best of the trip so far ….

We were determined to turn the day around so having considerable time to read up on the area on the trip down from Valencia Bernadette and Merie had decided that we simple had to head for Lo Pagan about 60 kilometres from Murcia to experience a mud bath in the lagoons beside the Mediterranean. The area is a rapidly developing holiday refuge for the inhabitants of the colder European climes. It was simply amazing to see what seemed likes thousands and thousands of really quite up-market residential accommodation.

The reality is that everywhere you look in Spain the development is extraordinary –it is difficult not to look at a skyline and see hammer-head cranes. The road system is stunning and there are wind farms everywhere. In fact the investment in infrastructure is so substantial that it constantly made me wonder about the lack of infrastructure investment in Australia over the past 15 years or so! … I wonder it is not time for Australians to stop believing its own rhetoric about it economy and get on about the future.(there end’th the lesson” )

Murcia itself is a large town of around 400,000. It was not the most attractive city that we had encountered in our trip. Having said that it did boast the best hotel of the trip, served a magnificent evening meal and may have had even a denser population of hammer head cranes than was the norm for Spain.

Wednesday 23rd April – Valencia – What would the kids know?

By mid morning we had developed out our rule for travel planning – Rule 1 – “never listen to your kids”

We strolled along the green belt past groves of trees that were the Spanish equivalent of a Boa tree towards the centre of town with Bernadette as our travel guide.

Having Bernadette as a travel guide is quite useful. On this occasion her unerring sense of direction meant that when were in the midst of the old city we were able to experience every lane, street and roadway and to wander past both monument and residential backdoor. Everyone should experience Bernadette as a travel guide – you simply – have faith and follow - then magically in front of you appears a superb coffee shop - this occurs right at the time at which you started to wonder why your parents had not genetically endowed to you an extra dollop of patience. For fellow travellers who come behind me – my apologies – I have no idea where the coffee shop was but I can assure you the coffee itself was superb.

A tour of the town on the double deck bus revealed Valencia to be a wonderful mixture of the old and the new. We found it to be a large vibrant place with some very adventurous architecture.

We were particularly impressed by the very large (the less refined would say huge so I suppose I should say huge) Science Park at the end of the green zone. The architecture is extraordinary and it is hard to imagine Australia giving so much freedom to an individual designer.

Bernadette could not wait any longer .. she had to have Paella Valenciana (Valencia gave birth to paella) for lunch so it was on to the Valancian tram system for a ride out through the suburbs to the port site with its brand new hotels, its beautiful wide beaches, its semi naked old sunbaking women who really should have known better and its beachfront eating strip. We arrived at 1:00pm so of course no one was there …. We did however find one of the places opened – as it turn out it was the one recommended by our hotel and again we play acted out the menu with a nice Spanish wait lady.

Our reaction to Paella is best left to the photographs.

A two hour lunch, a stroll along the beachfront to the hotel and a tram ride back through some quite uncomfortable suburbs back into town and back to the hotel rounded off the afternoon. Our trip through the suburbs on the tram made us understand why the hotel really suggested that we go to the port for lunch rather than dinner – I don’t think I would like the trip during the evening.

A long afternoon nap was the ideal preparation for Tapas and beer at a local bar. Dishes of Iberian ham, minced, skinless tomatoes and potatoes topped with spicy, minced eggplant. The Tapas bars open a little earlier so we were settled back into our hotel base at a respectable (by Albury standard) hour.

We loved Valencia!

Tuesday 22nd April – The Road to Valencia

We approached Valencia with the advice of our daughters in our mind …. ” Valencia – its is boring – there is nothing there!”. Our experiences on the way did little to ease our minds … the toll charges were almost frightening – in fact it cost us almost to the Dollar (Euro) the same for fuel as it did for toll charges – 30 Euros.

We stopped not too far our of Barcelona for our morning fix of coffee and cake at a place called Sitges. The coffee and cake was excellent but the town was less inviting and its TeleBancos took a distinct disliking to me taunting me at every push of a button. The travel books told us that the town was originally known as Arse. I have no idea why it changed its name as it original title seemed quite apt.

Along the way the scenery was pleasant enough but nothing like the delicate views and magnificent scenery of France – it was a little like country California and our attitude to Valencia was not helped much by keying in the wrong street address for our hotel therefore spending a fair amount of time driving in circles obeying the instructions of the Tom Tom to “turn around when possible”. Now experienced traveller we finally remembered to stay calm … look at the address – give the Tom Tom the right address and be on your way ….

The trip had done little to indicate that our daughters were anything other than excellent travel advisors.

In no time we had “reached our destination” – there in front of us was a very nice parking station, immediately beside us was the hotel which clearly qualified for not bottles of cheap wine but rather a celebratory glass of champagne … the hotel is excellent and is located in a restaurant district just off a nice square close to Valencia’s green strip some two or three kilometres from the centre square of the city.

John and Merie arrived an hour or so later and we headed out for a celebratory dinner. The little restaurant was lovely. We were the only customers and the waiter was a very nice young Spaniard who took delight in miming the menu for us. It was a great meal with great company but finding the restraurant did teach us that restaurants in this part of the world do not open for business for lunch before two and for dinner before 9.00.

By the end of the evening we were starting to wonder about the veracity of our daughter’s travelogue summaries.

Monday 21st April – The Architect Gaudi

I have heard of Gaudi many times. In fact he was mentioned in my university engineering studies as the master of hyperbolic structures. I found it hard to take his work seriously since the photographs of his work that I have seen have always left me a little cold – they felt to me as if they were naïve in the extreme and were better placed as the set from a Disney production of Snow White rather than as examples of serious architecture.

My first view of the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona did little to change my impression of his work. As I approached nearer and nearer to the Sagrada Familia I could feel myself becoming more and more enamoured of the structure.

When one encounters special historical structures it is difficult not to be overcome by a sense of wonder about, and admiration for, our forefathers. This is particularly the case for me when I encounter a historical monument or a historical religious building that demands to be admired for its purpose, for the magnitude of the commitment that it represents and for the majesty of the architectural achievement that it displays. To my complete surprise I found the Sagrada Familia to be such a historical monument in the making and one that our great grandchildren will admire for its “magnitude of commitment of their forefathers and its majesty of architectural achievement”

Begun as a community project in late 1880’s the Sagrada Familia (or Temple of the Holy Family) is a Cathedral for the City of Barcelona and is on the physical scale of the larger of the other great Christian cathedrals of the world. It is just over 50% complete and continues to be funded by donation and more lately by tourist entry subscriptions. While it is unmistakably a cathedral its architecture and architectural consistency is just extraordinary. It is a work of architectural art with amazing attention to detail.

The design is progressing to the original design of the architect Gaudi preserved in the form of his plaster scale models of the structure. Gaudi had dedicated his life to the building realising very early on that he would be unable to see the structure complete in his lifetime and as a consequence he spent a great amount of time describing his vision for the building in extraordinary detail.

He was held in so much respect that there has been a commitment by his followers to faithfully follow his designs though to completion.

The tour of a building under construction is an achievement in itself. It is managed in style by the Barcelonans. Even in its construction phase I simply could not feel anything other than a sense of amazement at what is being achieved – I felt for the first time in my life I think that I was actually seeing the creation of a real historical icon rather experiencing a moment in time when history flashed by me.

It is startling in both design and magnitude -it is stunning to realise that as a visitor to the site you are seeing history in the process of creation.

Breath taking!

Sunday 20th April – Impressions of Barcelona

We occupied the day by taking the standard bus tour of the town stopping off to stroll around the centre of town, inhabit coffee shops and visit the Barcelona Cathedral.

I am not sure if Barcelona knows what it wants to be – it seems to want to be part of Spain but to be fiercely Catalonian. It wants to be both modern and historic but does not have the style of the French to carry it off. . It is proud of its alternative architectural examples but seems to have tolerated them as individual structures rather that as part of city scape. As an example the modern, rounded, ceramic tiled roof of the city markets while attractive in itself looked to me like a piece of graffiti on the side of a church. It might have been good graffiti but it hardly does anything for the built environment.

As another example … there are two adjacent hills near the sea to the south west of the city. One is occupied with 15th-16th Century Church, the other by a 1970’s communication tower. As beautiful are both were they simply were never meant to sit beside one another.

The wharf area, the site of the 1992 Olympic games and the city’s equivalent of Darling Harbour while nice enough, all make you feel like they are in need of some tender love and care. As mayor of Barcelona I think I would buy each of the local street supervisors a high pressure washer. “It is not that the city is dirty – it is just that it needs a clean”

I hope none of this sounds like I don’t like Barcelona – that is not the case – the people are really nice and obviously proud of their city, the facilities are very good (with the possible exception of the parking) and there is a vibrancy about the place that is endearing. I got the sense that this is a place that has just lost its way a little and may need some redirection. Clearly the Olympic Games provided some drive for the city … at the moment perhaps it needs a final of the World Cup.

Saturday 19th April – the Road to Barcelona

The sun was shining as we left Andorra for Barcelona. While we enjoyed our short time in Andorra the weather had dampened both our skins and our spirits just a little. Andorra with the sun out is a much more appealing place. Its narrow streets and its towering mountain backdrops are much less intimidating in the bright light of a clear day.

As we left the Principality and crossed the border into Spain we were stopped by immigration and questioned on our purchases in Andorra. The boots were opened but our cases were not … our passports were not checked … none of it makes sense to me … I still wonder about why small Principalities like Andorra are allowed to exist … the tax benefits are there for the inhabitants and the tax avoiders but I confess not to understand the benefit to Spain and France to have it on their respective borders.




Heading down the mountains, the European love of skiing was evident with the streams of traffic driving towards Andorra from Spain as thousands of people sought out the last chance for some adventure on the slopes of the Pyrenees before spring becomes a complete reality and the last traces of snow shrink away to swell the streams that feed from it.


The views back towards the Pyrenees were stunning










Given the beautiful, clear if crisp day it was not surprising that the car parking spaces were full at the monastery perched high on the top of the Mountains of Montserrat about 6o kilometres from Barcelona. While it would have been a delight to have driven the little Peugeot up the mountain we had to settle for a pleasant ride on the rail car.





One has to admire the strength both physically and spiritually of the monks that originally established the monastery. It is almost impossible to imagine how taxing it must have been to first build accommodation and then to live your life in such an in-hospitable yet beautiful place.




We have three days in Barcelona and our drive into the city was quite pleasant although I suspect we might have been fortunate that it was the early afternoon of a Saturday, Barca were not scheduled to play Espanyol until fairly late afternoon and our hotel was located in an accessible location just off the Avenue Diagonal. In any event finding and booking into the hotel was without incident – finding a park for three days – now that needed some of Bernadette’s best negotiating skills – needless to say in the end we have the car safely stored away just a stone’s throw from the hotel – Bernadette doesn’t speak Catalan and the guy didn’t speak English – nevertheless they made each other understood and both seemed pleased with the deal that they struck.

The hotel is pleasant and is about a 15 minute, safe walk from the main square of Barcelona. It is well served with tapas bars and we tried two on our first night in town. The first was fairly traditional while the second was an Irish Pub that served the Tapas in an effort to blend in with the locals. A Tapas selection washed down with Guinness is a remarkably good combination.

Friday 18th April 2008 – The Road to Andorra

The day was overcast but the drive from Carcassonne to Foix along the route of the Le Tour was very pleasant. The tree lined roads, the bright yellow of Canola fields contrasting with the bright green of the barley and vegetable crops and the stunning hilltop villages all combined to make for a pleasant and relaxing drive.

We stopped in Foix and again we encountered “market day”. We brought cheese, baguettes and local sausage before heading on towards Andorra.

As we approached Andorra the winds picked up and the first few spots of rain progressively developed in snow and as we entered the Principality it was covered with a thick layer of fresh snow.

Upon descent into La Vella itself the snow disappeared only to be replaced by steady by constant rain. When we think of Andorra we will probably think of Queenstown on a gigantic scale but with more Audi’s per metre of road than anywhere on this earth.

Tonight was our first night outside French territory for sometime so we were anxious to see what the food would be like. It proved immediately to be completely different and absolutely delicious. The waiters were anxious to point out that we were being served Mediterranean food. We have been seeing an enormous amount of white Asparagus (Asperes) in the markets. Tonight Bernie had the opportunity to have it served with a Rochford cheese sauce as an entrée… she is still smiling a couple of hours later. We also have seen a lot of fresh strawberries in the markets and have been buying them as snacks – they are large and extremely sweet – I am not certain whether it is just the holidays but they do seem much superior to those that we get at home.

Thursday 17th April – the Medieval City

The morning was cold – who in the hell suggested that we carry a minimum of clothes? The wind blasted us as we walked across the old bridge from the new city ot Carcassonne into La Cite - the medieval city. It screamed at us in broken French “what in the hell have you got ourselves into? What on earth are you doing here? – don’t you know even winter in Australia is warmed than it is here?” .

So what was it that kept us going as we climbed the hill to the entrance … it was without a doubt, the majesty of the 15 meter defensive walls and the 25 meter towers that were dotted along its length. From a distance and indeed from within the walls itself this is an impressive piece of history. The site is a credit to the early French government officials that established the historic monuments restoration organisation in the early 1800’s.

We think that preservation of our history is a recent phenomenon but the forethought of these people who as early as 1810 recognised that the state needed to invest heavily in the restoration of the historical sites is something that took me by complete surprise. La Cite was a restoration project that took almost 70 years from about 1820 to around 1890. The result is a stunning representation of how medieval communities defended themselves.

Did the wind really die down during in our visit to La Cite or was it just that we return across the bridge with a better understanding of why we needed to walk the walk to and from the Medieval City. What ever the reason the return back to the new city (founded in around 1600) was really quite pleasant.

Wednesday 16th April – The Journey to Carcassonne

We made our way to Carcassonne by way of Arles and Sete arriving in town around 3:30 in the afternoon.

Between Avignon and Arles we were stunned to see a considerable amount of Rice under cultivation. I had no idea France had any sort of rice industry. We were not certain it was rice but it looked very much like it – perhaps another topic for some further study.

At Arles the highlights were two - In the order – a French apple tart served with local ice cream and café de crème at a small but terribly expensive café at the foot ot the roman ruins and a Roman Amphitheatre that is now used as a bullfighting arena (apparently without any harm to the bulls).

While the theatre is in amazing condition and it was quite an experience to wander through the circular passage ways that make up the entries and egresses from the both the amphitheatre seating and the area surface itself, the apple tart was something that, had the café existed, the Christians would have chosen as their last meal before entering centre stage at the focal point of activity within the arena.

From Arles we wandered down toward Sete past canals that seemed ideal for Pam and Andrews bike riding activities and lakes that served as a refuges for hundreds (thousands?) of pink flamingos. The flocks that we saw were either quite young or they did not get as much access to carotene as their Mexican cousins as they were a much lighter colour than those we saw at Los Regos.

The motorway trip to Carcassonne was rapid and an experience. I did notice that at 130kph the fuel consumption of the little 1.4 litre Peugeot 207 started to approach 10litres per 100 kilometres - Having said that it is a great little car. We love it.

We have decided that having booked our accommodation ahead on the internet and having received what we thought were real bargains we should prepare ourselves for disappointment by simply rating each one in reverse order based on the number of bottles of red wine we needed to consume to make the accommodation feel adequate. We approached Carcassonne looking for places to buy at least three bottles. To our pleasure and surprise the wine was not required for the purposes of accommodation renovation. The Ibis overlooks Gambetta Square and is a neat and tidy and well priced at 45 euros.

Dinner was just on the other side of the square where we partook of a bean, duck, bacon and sausage stew – a local speciality known as Couiselet. It comes in a large bowl and is really delicious with subtle flavours and variety of textures. I doubt that there would be many people who could manage to e consume the entire bowl.

Tuesday 15th April – Our last day at Vaisons La Romaine.

Amazing … I swear that last night when I went to bed there was a square out the front of the hotel and there were miles of narrow streets with nothing but the odd car to restrict movement around the town. This morning there are literally hundreds (maybe four or five hundred) stalls spread across the square and along EVERY street surrounding the city centre. Car access is banned – the weekly market has come to town!. The produce is amazing and the variety is stunning. There is everything from fresh sea urchin to silk dresses. Everyone is there buying their weekly provisions. The fish vendors come equipped with refrigerated display cabinets and awnings that are the length of a semi trailer and that can be closed up and towed away behind a large van inside about fifteen minutes. The scene was just amazing. Equally amazing was the reality that we returned some six hours later and everything had gone and the streets and square were back to normal … I now know what is actually meant by market day!

We took the opportunity to purchase chicken, cheese, bread and avocados for our lunch and headed off through Avignon to the Pont Du Gard. We are doing everything at a slower pace now.

We dined on our cheese, bread and water at the Pont Du Gard. For me it is a mysterious structure that demands a little more study. There is something odd about the design that is inconsistent with the normal Roman approach. It is an impressive structure and the visitors small in number and very relaxed.

We again fought with the parking machines … when will we ever learn that “accepting a card” actually means accepting a “chipped” credit card rather than the Australian magnetic strip cards – beware approaching an automatic booth on a toll way without coins or a chipped card … the standard cards do not work and the note readers are a disaster unless you have a very effective note holder.

Upon return to Vaisons La Romaine we spend a quite evening drinking Kir de Maisson’s while watching the early evening bustle of the Square Du Montford.