Roman Aqueduct

Roman Aqueduct
A stunning monument at night: the Roman Aqueduct of Segovia, Spain

Picnic

Picnic
Matt prepares the picnic in Parque Retiro

Sunset over Bay of Biscay

Sunset over Bay of Biscay
Sunset over Bay of Biscay, San Sebastian

July 29, 2007: Iraqis Celebrate the Asian Cup Victory at T-Centralen in Stockholm

July 29, 2007: Iraqis Celebrate the Asian Cup Victory at T-Centralen in Stockholm
A wonderfully festive place to be. I was apparently the only non-Iraqi in the vicinity...and the only thing that put a damper on my enjoyment of the celebration was my self-consciousness about being American--both ashamed and slightly afraid of being found out.

Isak´s Long Arm

Isak´s Long Arm
Isak´s arm is almost long enough for self portraiture

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Las Alpujarras


The following text is excerpted from www.andalucia.com/villages/alpujarras.htm

The region of mountain villages known as Las Alpujarras clings to the southern flanks of the Sierra Nevada, cloven by deep, sheltered valleys and gorges which run down towards the Mediterranean. The Alpujarra, as it is popularly known, in the singular, is famous throughout Spain because of its unique mini-ecology. Its terraced farmlands are constantly watered by the melting snow from above, constituting a high-altitude oasis of greenery which stands in dramatic contrast to the arid foothills below.

The cultural interest of the region lies in its fifty-odd villages, which were the last stronghold of the Spanish Muslims, or Moors. Soon after the Castillians took Granada in 1492, all the city´s Moors were forced to convert to Christianity. Those who refused took to the hills, settling in this remote, inaccessible area. Constant pressure from the Christians led to a bloody uprising, the Morisco Rebellion of 1568, which was ruthlessly crushed out, with the public execution of the leader, Ben Humeya, in the main square of Granada. Soon followed a royal decree expelling from the Kingdom of Granada all people of Arab descent, since the "new Christians", as the converts were called, were all suspected of being ¨crypto-Muslims¨ in secret...

The villages of the Alpujarra were resettled with some 12,000 Christian families brought by King Philip II from Galicia and Asturias in north-western Spain. However, these unique hamlets have retained their traditional Berber architecture - terraced clusters of grey-white box-shaped houses with flat clay roofs - which is still common in the Rif and Atlas mountains of Morocco. Perhaps the most picturesque villages are the famous trio which cling, one close above the other, to the slopes of the Poqueira Valley, where red peppers and tomatoes are still set out to dry on the flat clay roofs, among the tall round chimney pots. Pampaneira, at the bottom, bustles with crafts shops and restaurants, as does Bubión, half way up the slope, with its massive square church tower standing on a plaza of rough paving stones. But to savour the authentic Alpujarra, go to Capileira at the top of the valley - the name is an Arabic derivation of the Latin word for head or top - and walk down from the road into the lower streets of the village, where the rocky streets, overhanging passageways and sagging, stone houses have still not been remodelled and prettified for contemporary living...

If you stray from the beaten path, you will be sure to catch sight of the region´s abundant wild life, such as the Cabra Hispanica, a mountain goat which roams the mountains in herds and is often seen standing on pinnacles, silhouetted against the sky. But as soon as it flairs the scent of man it will bound up the steepest slopes with amazing speed... The Alpujarra is also famous for its excellent birdwatching - the colourful Hoopoe with its stark, haunting cry, is a common sight. The capital of the region is Órgiva, on the lowlands, and the village of Trevélez - famous throughout Spain for its superb mountain hams, or jamón serrano - is, at over 4,840 feet above sea level, the highest village in Europe, overhanging a fast-flowing river and plunging mountain valley.

One of the many great travel books written about Spain is devoted to the Alpujarra - Gerald Brenan´s "South From Granada", which recounts the adventures of a young Britisher who, after serving in World War I, walked through Andalucia in search of a cheap place to live and write. He discovered the tiny village of Yégen, where he rebuilt a ruined house (now marked with a plaque in his memory) and lodged some of his friends of the famous Bloomsbury group of London. In his book - written in retrospect, long after he became a well-known journalist - Brenan describes the difficulties of getting such highly-strung aesthetes as Virginia Woolf and Lytton Strachey up the river gorges on mule back, as well as his bucolic existence among the local peasants.

Sunday, July 8, 2007



El Sol! Granada is sun-soaked and, were there no closely constructed buildings or cafe umbrellas, shade would be something wars would be fought over. Sparrows fill the blue skies--darting and swooping around cathedrals and the Alhambra, which exudes a magnificent presence (though plain looking from the outside) over the Paseo de los Tristes. A wonderful city where the rhythm of the people is much like the tides--an ebb and flow that cannot be hastened--a pattern discernable only after a couple 24 hours cycles (oh! shops are closed now at 11AM...now people are eating at 2:30PM...now sleeping at mid-day...oh! one stays up until dawn..OK!). One has to submit to the leisure--to enjoy it! In my leisurely afternoon post-siesta at Hostal Lisboa I discovered the self-timer on my camera.

Friday, July 6, 2007

Donde esta mi iPod?!


Happy to have arrived in beautiful, sunny Granada, though have had to engage a zen-like acceptance of the loss of my beloved iPod. Gone! A swift hand found its way to my backpack pocket--perhaps while I was dozing on the train, perhaps with my head turned at the Madrid train station. May the perpetrator enjoy my taste in music. At least they left my wallet. Gracias!

"Kuba!"



Kuba is six years old as of July 5. He has an infectious, mischievious smile and is often found making up stories and trying to cause trouble. He is amped at high voltage from waking to sleeping and loves to eat. The family defines him by his love of food and his naughtiness. "Kuba!" can be heard at least one hundred times a day in tones varying from¨"I´m shocked" to "you should know better." He spoke to me as if I understood Polish, smiling the entire time, and I couldn´t help but be charmed.

Laptop!

From a journal entry on 3 July 2007.

On a night train from Gdynia, Poland to Berlin. Waved from an old moving train--goodbye to Woitek and Marlena, with a grateful, but heavy heart at sunset. My last two days at Kormoran were at turns long, slow, and filled with great joy. Seven years since my first visit with the family in Poland. Woitek, Monika, Marlena (14), Kuba (the newest addition to the family who is 6) and their well-loved chow-chow, Sonja. Lots of sweets, coffee, soda, juice (no water). Many hours not saying much. Marlena did a wonderful job attempting translation, but is new in this role and found it frustrating most of the time. Whenever any of us became very stuck (which was often), someone called out "laptop!" and we exchanged questions by typing into the grammatically creative Polski-Angielski program on Woitek´s laptop. All in two days, we visited the gulf, the open sea (I had to be snuck through the army checkpoint as the beach was only for Polish citizens), ate lody (ice cream) in the city of Hel, played billiards (Woitek and Marlena´s first time), played guitar and snacked and snacked and snacked (cookies, blueberries, cherries, cookies, chips, raspberries, cake, pretzels, cookies, apples, cookies) and two times a day ate meal food (bread, cheese, sausage, Polish spaghetti, borscht, mushroom soup, pickles, beets).

Beyond Tourism

Leipzig (city under the lime trees), though it played an incredibly important role in history with the Leipzig Trade Fair, it´s once booming publishing industry, the University of Leipzig, J.S. Bach´s place of work at the Thomaskirche (St. Thomas´Church) from 1723-1750, and the site of the Battle of the Nations (which ended Napolean´s conquests in Europe), is hardly a tourist city. One can visit all the historical sites in a day. If one has a local student guide, however, Leipzig comes alive and invites one into the wonderful world of folk kitchens, Conne Island movie screenings, all night housewarming parties and the mitfahrgelegenheit!

The mitfahrgelegenheit is a ride share system that is both economical and a great way to meet local people. A 1984 Mercedes bus was my transport from Leipzig to Berlin with Tim, his canoe, a box of organic produce, a beautiful hippie woman who, when I awoke from my nap, was dressed in German costume, her hair, once flowing, now in dangling braid loops. Christoph, a drummer on his way to two band rehearsals, was also a passenger. He spoke at length of his love for Berlin and offered to share his two free hours with me in the afternoon to show me the city. Thank goodness for Christoph! After nodding off on the top deck of a boring (and expensive) sightseeing tour bus that sloshed through the raniy streets of Berlin for a couple hours, Christoph offered a brightness and personality to the day. Berlin is too big to see in a day (no surprise)--especially a rainy day--especially when PMS has taken hold of the body and mind.

Leipzig: Paris Syndrome


Katja and I warmed ourselves on a rainy day in Leipzig with cauliflower soup (Blumenkohl-Suppe) at an art cafe called "Paris Syndrome", which, according to the menu, refers to the traumatic disillusionment that Japanese tourists suffer when arriving in Paris, pregnant with romantic expectation--only to be coldly confronted by reality in the big city. Decor in the cafe was a hybrid of "reality" (cement walls) and the romantic (chandeliers, pink and white pin-striped wall-paper, Louis Vuitton upholstered seats).

Can We Have Another Potato? Just One?


There have been several days in my travels these past two and a half weeks that I have felt like a passive blob--doing little more than sitting, eating, and talking to friends and strangers. And yet, by day´s end, ready for sleep as if I´ve put in a full day´s work. After some reflection, it became clear how much energy is demanded by switching language gears--simply trying to listen and understand new words and expressions every few days--first Germany, then France, then Germany, then Poland...now Spain. The fruits of my labor in the language arena include "Konnen wir noch eine Kartoffel Haben?" (Can we have another potato?)--which came to use when Anne and I were sitting at a restaurant at Burg Arras (Arras Castle). The plate we ordered included four potatoes and a boatload of quark (cream sauce)--we needed just one more potato to create the perfect ratio of potato to quark. As the photo illustrates, my German lesson paid off.