Spain - Seville, May 11-13

So I trained from Toledo back to Madrid and then to Seville, which is pretty far south in Spain. On the train, I watched a forgettable US movie. They hand out earphones, just like on a plane. I watched farmland and empty space pass by the window.

In Seville, my hotel was so obscure that even my taxi driver didn't know how to get there. After I showed him on a map, we finally arrived close enough for me to roll my suitcase down the alley. The clerk and the maid carried it up to the third floor for me. The center of the hotel was a courtyard that acted as an echo chamber. All the noise traveled upward. Plus the noise from the alley traveled upward. And my (private) bathroom was down the hall. It was not a restful place to stay.

It was much warmer in Seville and the sun was out. I toured the cathedral, the largest ever built. More homage paid to saints. I liked the Christopher Columbus part and the crown that contained the biggest pearl in the world as the body of an angel.

Then I climbed the 35 ramps up the Giralda Bell Tower (ramps so the horses could get to the top), and looked down on the city. Seville looked very big from up there. After, I stopped to rest my legs and drink some fresh-squeezed orange juice.

Then on to the Alcazar, which showed Moorish influence in the tiles. The gardens of this royal palace were beautiful and inviting. So inviting that I laid down on a cement bench in the sun and fell asleep. Half an hour later a guard yelled at me to wake up. People were standing around, looking at me. It was funny, but a little embarrassing. I needed a nap!

After enjoying all the flowers in the garden, I walked and walked, taking streets and alleys, getting lost then finding my way again. A lot of stores and restaurants were out of business - a sign of the bad economic times. The sun stayed out til 9ish with no rain. I was wearing my jeans, a t-shirts and a thin black pullover.

I crossed the Guadalquivir River, where crews were rowing and a few kayakers were paddling. I walked from one bridge to another, then down a commercial street and bought a pink blouse to go with my leotard pants. I heard a lot of French spoken.

Then I stopped for dinner along the river. It got cold, and I wrapped my new pink top around my neck for warmth. It was a lovely view. I had a caña (small beer), a tarrina (small bowl) of salmorejo (ooh, a delicious thick soup that starts out as gazpacho, with sour cream and garlic added, and topped with pieces of chorizo and hard-boiled egg). I should have stopped there, but I had already ordered an assortment of fried fish, which I left half of. There was cod, calamare, and a few other fish I didn't recognize.

About 8:30pm, people started pouring out onto the street. Everyone walked, except those who ran. Spaniards love going out at night.

May 12

Amazingly, I slept great the entire night. For breakfast, I wanted something American. The sign at a nearby restaurant said, Omelet with bacon, coffee, toast and juice for only 6.30 Euros. A bargain! I was psyched for real eggs and bacon, sitting outdoors in the sun.

What I got were two eggs over easy (I wondered how to order that in Spanish), two pieces of nearly raw bacon, a hunk of bread from last night's dinner presumably, too-strong coffee, and fresh-squeezed orange juice.

Everything I wanted to see in Seville, I saw yesterday, so today was devoted to seeing/walking in new parts of the city.

I can usually find my way out of a wet paper bag, and I had several years of navigational experience on boats, but nothing prepared me for the map of Seville. And I wasn't the only one confounded. When I stopped to read the map, there were others doing the same thing.

While walking in the center of the flamenco district, passing shops with flamenco dance dressed, fans, hair combs and shawls, I happened upon a store selling dance shoes. I have been on a quest to find comfortable and protective closed-toe, leather-sold shoes to dance in (merengue and salsa) for a few years. I needed shoes that protect my toes that I can spin in. Shoes made for flamenco dancing, it turned out, fit the bill. The black pair that I bought cost 60 Euros. They're not particularly pretty, but they're functional.

More walking and window shopping. The sun came out and went in, over and over. I bought a novel in English by one of my favorite writers, Michael Connolly. Then I stopped at an outdoor cafe, more to rest my feet than to eat or drink. A woman speaking English asked if she could share my table. Diane was in Spain for 10 days - on her honeymoon, alone. She told me right away that she had been stood up at the altar. It was to be her first marriage. He just never showed up. She didn't cry, but she was miserable. She didn't like Spain, she vented about the poor service and lack of clocks in hotel rooms. I lent an ear for an hour, then I had to escape.

More walking and getting lost, then I stopped for a boca of paella and a copa de vino at an arabic restaurant with tile and arches. There was relaxing arabic music playing, and I enjoyed some down time. Later, I walked more, then turned in to read my book.

Spain - Toledo, May 9-11

May 9

Things did not start out great in Toledo, my second city. I took the train from Madrid to Toledo. When I got there, I learned that I would not be able to take a train directly to Seville in two days. I would have to train back to Madrid, then train to Seville. I didn't have enough cash on me to pay for a reduced fare ticket, so I had to pay over $100 by credit card, plus get hit with a foreign transaction fee by MasterCard.

I took a bus to the center of town and went to an ATM to get Euros. Nightmare! I couldn't get any cash. I tried another bank's ATM - no cash. It was a Sunday and the banks weren't open. I had enough Euros to get me through to Monday, but I started to panic. What if I couldn't get any Euros the rest of my three weeks in Spain?! I looked for an Internet place so I could call Fidelity, which I use as my bank, but the Locutorios didn't open until later.

So I checked into the hotel, and went out to enjoy Toledo since there was nothing I could do at that moment to resolve my cash problem. Toledo is a city built on a hill, so there was a lot of uphill and downhill walking. I went to the Sinagoga de El Transito, one of the few synagogues to withstand the Inquisition in 1492.

The narrow streets in Madrid were nothing compared to the alleys in Toledo. I could almost spread my arms and touch buildings on either side of the street.

Finally I found a Locutorio and called Fidelity. I sounded really upset, and the agent was able to get someone on the line with me from the bank that services Fidelity. On a Sunday! She said that my account looked fine on her end, my money was not blocked, and there were no recent rejections for my account. She couldn't do anything for me. I left and went to a third ATM, and lo and behold, I was able to get Euros. What a relief!

Feeling much better, I walked around until I found a great-looking little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. I sat in the bar area and had a wonderful glass of Spanish wine, enjoyed the best, most tender green olives in tomato sauce with onions I've ever had, and listened to some great old recorded smoky American jazz. My main dish was ensalada de churrasco, a steak salad that was to die for, with carmelized onions.

Toledo is known for a few things: marzipan (an almond candy), knives, swords and guns. I can attest to the marzipan. It is delicious. I thought that I would never again have the chance to buy a really great chef knife at a decent price, so I splurged and bought one. I have been very happy with it. I also bought one for my friend, Patty, who was overseeing my condo during my absence.

I saw my first cathedral in Toledo. What an immense structure! The money that went into building it and adorning it in ornate gold and jewels could have fed hundreds or thousands of people for years. In the room with photos of Spanish cardinals, I couldn't help but wonder how many of those men were child molesters. I am such a cynic. Or a realist.


A great attraction that wasn't in the guide books was the Centro Cultural San Martin. I got free entrance to this bank-sponsored museum, which had an exhibition on nudes - paintings, photos and sculptures. It was the best thing I saw in Toledo.

I took some side streets and ended up walking up a very steep hill. There was a grand view of a couple of buildings. Then I was so tired, I hopped on a bus, hoping it would bring me back to the center of town. As it turned out, after turning three short corners, we arrived in the center.

At only 6:35pm, I took a hot bath and crawled into bed, tired from walking the hills. I listened to lovely classical music on TV, and wrote in my travel journal. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any white noise TV stations for the rest of my trip, so some nights I slept, and some nights ambient noise kept me awake.

May 10

I was up bright and early, eating an apple pastry with cafe con leche. The Museo de Santa Cruz was my first stop. It is a museum about local history. I saw a retrospective of tile-making through the ages and learned about the history of lower Toledo.


It was another day of walking in the rain, up and down hills, taking narrow streets and alleys to see where they went. Stores were open today, so I stopped in to see what was in fashion. In Toledo, it seems they sell either teeniebopper or matronly styles. I bought earrings and a necklace, just cheap costume jewelry.

For lunch, I stopped at Adolfo, a hip, modern place. While listening to Katy Perry sing, I Kissed a Girl, I had a yummy glass of Syrah wine made locally, and an appetizer of toasted bread crumbs sauteed in olive oil with chorizo. I like to order local food, but I made a bad mistake with the half partridge and discolored beans disk (sounds more appetizing in Spanish, judías pochas con 1/2 perdiz). It was my only regrettable meal in Spain. I thanked the bird for giving its life, especially for such a terrible tasting dish that I couldn't finish.

I checked my email at the Arab-run Locutorio, then had tea at an outdoor cafe, while listening to American music. American music is everywhere!

I could easily have spent only one day in Toledo, especially given the rain and cold and only intermittent sun and so few things to see that interested me.

I tried to find the restaurant from the day before, but it had disappeared. I couldn't get back to that alley. I wanted lamb chops, and this was the city for meat. I went back to the restaurant where I had tea, and ordered the lamb chops for dinner. They were tasty, but nothing special. The wine was good, though.

The food may not have been the best, but the people-watching was very interesting. First, there was an overweight, stressed-out mother pushing a carriage with a boy of 1.5 years, which is a difficult chore over the cobblestone streets and cracked sidewalks. Her 7-year-old ADHD daughter was prancing about, running off then coming back, not always finding her mother again. They came out of the Chinese store, a big pulperia that sold everything from cosmetics to housewares to potatoes, and the girl was crying loudly and throwing a fit. Clearly she wanted something inside that store that her mother didn't get for her. The mother talked to her, but the girl kept making a scene - all this right across from my outdoor table. The mother pushed the carriage up an alley; they girl eventually followed. Five minutes later they returned and went back into the store. I could see a long line formed at the cash register. In about three minutes the mother, daughter and carriage emerged from the store and walked to the corner. They could not have stood in line to pay for a purchase. The mother took something out from a compartment of the carriage and bent, with her back toward me, over the girl. A few seconds later, the girl was hopping and prancing very happily, and went over to a car's side view mirror to admire the dark maroon lipstick that her mother had applied to her lips. She stood in front of the mirror a long time, missing the direction that her mother had taken with the carriage. When the girl had ogled herself enough, she went looking and calling for her mama. She entered the Locutorio, where I knew her mother had passed on her way to another street. But then the mother came back to my area, calling for her daughter. They met up again in front of the store. The mother went in yet again, picked up a lollipop, unwrapped it, and give it to the boy in the carriage. Then the three of them left the area.

I was still sitting at my table, sipping my wine, when I saw two guys in their late 20s arrive at the store. The one with hair went inside, while the one with the shaved head except for an island of long curls and a strip of bloodied stitches overlaying his left front lobe, and dirty plaster casts on both his arms, waited outside with their two dogs. I am not making this up. The mutts blocked the store entrance, waiting for their companion in the long line. A woman, I'm guessing Muslim because of her head-to-toe covering (not a burqa), wanted to leave the store, but she was afraid of the dogs. Petrified, is more like it. She looked around, obviously nervous, hoping to find the dogs' owner, but no one came to her air. The injured companion wasn't looking in, so he didn't know that his dogs were causing problems. I thought of going over to help her since I wasn't afraid of the dogs, my body even twitched to move towards her, but I stayed put to watch how the scene would play out. She would take a step toward the street, then back up, step then back up again. Finally, she stepped onto the street, eyes glued on the dogs, who could not have been less interested in her, then she hurried away.


The final interesting thing was two men wearing accordions on their backs stopped in front of the store and had a smoke with another guy. I had not seen any accordions so far on my trip and thought the scene was interesting enough to take a picture of them.

Spain - Madrid, My First Stop - May 5-8

Me in Plaza Mayor, Madrid



May 5-6, 2010
This trip was over a year in the making. When I finally landed in Madrid, nonstop direct from San Jose, Costa Rica with only a 25-minute nap on the 10.5-hour flight, I was excited and a little awestruck. I used to travel for my work in the 70s and 80s, bopping in and out of airports, when I was young and resilient. But in Madrid, I had to concentrate on understanding Spanish, which, although I've been studying and practicing for five years, still eludes me at times.

But I quickly got my bearings, took out Euros at the ATM with my US debit card, and learned how to buy Metro tickets from a machine. The hostel had sent me directions from the airport, so I got off at the prescribed Metro stop, only to find out that my hotel was not located anywhere near there. A kind security guard brought me over to an information clerk, who looked up my hotel in the phone book, then told me which stop I needed. The guard let me enter the Metro without paying again, and I was on my way, lugging my suitcase behind me. So my first experience of the people in Madrid was very friendly = muy amable.

My private room at the hostel could not have been more tiny, but the bed was comfortable and the shower had hot water. I was surprised by the pillow; it was more of a roll that extended the width of the bed. Even in hotels where I slept in a double bed, the pillow was as wide as the bed. Despite the odd shape, the pillows were comfortable, and I had hardly any neck problems during my 20 days in Spain.

But I didn't go to Spain to stay in bed, so after a brief nap, the street noise lulled me out. I walked down the street from the Gran Via (a main street with majestic old buildings) to the Puerto del Sol, a popular plaza, and then meandered down streets too narrow for cars to drive. The shops were quaint and darling.

It was colder than I was used to, and most of the women were wearing scarves. I don't usually like things around my neck, but I found two nice scarves for 5 Euros (about $6.50), so I bought them and wore one or the other for the next two weeks. If I had brought my earmuffs and gloves, I would have worn those, too.

My first night I felt a little homesick for Latin music, but then I saw a sign for Club Cubano, and walked there about 9pm. I listened to a guy with a guitar sing Cuban songs, many of which I knew from my Buena Vista Social Club CD. I stayed long enough to have a Caipirinha, a Brazilian drink that had me drunk in 3 sips, and a dish of papas rellenos, potatoes stuffed with chilis, which were delicious.

Back in the room about 11pm, I knew I had to adjust to the local time, so I took a Tylenol PM and slept for 11 hours.

May 7
I had found a TV station with only white noise and no picture, so I had that going all night. It took the place of my white noise machine that I didn't bring.


Churros and Chocolate

I arose at noon on my first full day in Madrid. For breakfast, I went to a place in the guide books that served churros, long and narrow fried dough, with liquid chocolate. I dipped the churros in the chocolate, and drank the chocolate, too. Qué rico!

To get an overview of the city, I took Bus #27 from the Prado Museum north to Castellano, walked through open-air food stalls, then took the bus back. I went into the Prado and saw old art by Velasquez, Goya and El Greco. I am not a big fan of these religious paintings, so I was out of there in about an hour, just in time for a light rain. I walked more, went in stores, including El Cortes Ingles, the biggest Spanish department store, where prices were high. I bought 19 fans for friends back home. At an outdoor cafe, I grabbed a pencil-thin sandwich of smoked salmon, anchovy, lettuce and cream cheese, and chased it back with a caña, a small beer. I was beat after a long day of walking.

May 8

Me in the Crystal Palace

This was another walking day to see Madrid, starting with a cafe con leche and a chocolate croissant. I went to the Botanical Garden and the Parque Buen Retiro. Madrid knows how to do parks right! They are expansive, manicured and clean, and lots of people enjoy their beauty in the midst of the country's capital. I was particularly impressed with the Crystal Palace, a building made of glass.

Even though I had a 10-ride Metro pass, I preferred to walk, even in the rain, with my scarf over my hair. Finally back near the Puerto del Sol, I stopped in at a bar, La Abuela, and ordered sangria. I wanted mussels, but they were out, so the bartender/owner, Antonio, gave me a sample of boquerones, anchovies in oil and garlic. I would not ordinarily eat anchovies, but ooh, they were good! I got to talking to two guys, Fernando and Miguel. Fernando was a bookie for bullfights and other sports; Miguel was a transplanted businessman from Cadiz. We spent a few hours at the bar,drinking and eating. Miguel and I made plans to go dancing that night, and said we'd meet back at La Abuela at 9:00pm.


Miguel and me

I got lost on the way back to La Abuela - so many narrow streets! - but finally found the place. The place was crowded with people watching a soccer game on TV, so Miguel and I hung out there, eating and drinking, til 11, when we went to a dance place he knew about. It was closed - boo! - so I suggested Club Cubano. It was raining, so he bought us an umbrella for the walk. On the way, he propositioned me. I thought about it, but declined. He was handsome and had money and was only 42, but I was leaving the next morning, and I missed Indio, so I declined. He stayed at Club Cubano long enough to buy me a drink, then said he was leaving. I stayed and enjoyed the music, then left an hour later.

My First Trip to Ebais

All expats living in Costa Rica have to join the Caja. That's the nation's socialized medical program. For a monthly fee, about $42 in my case, I get unlimited medical coverage.

Today is the first time I have used the Caja since I joined six weeks ago. When I arrived in Barcelona on May 18, I got a cold. It started in my throat, worked its way down for a couple of days with coughing and a sore throat, then worked its way up with sneezing and a head full of mucus. The cold mostly went away after I got situated back home in Santa Ana.

But my throat remained sore, rough and red. I had to keep clearing it of phlegm or else drown. The more I cleared my throat, the rougher it became.

So this morning I went to my local Caja office, called an Ebais. I got there at 6:30am to stand in line to get an appointment to see a doctor later in the day. There were already 22 people ahead of me, so my appointment was for 11:15.

I left, went on my morning walk, came home for breakfast and a shower, wrote some emails, then went back for my appointment. I was taken right away. First a nurse took my vital signs, using old-fashioned equipment: a pump blood pressure cuff, a scale with weight balances, and a watch to count my resting pulse. Plus I had to stand against the wall without my shoes on to get measured for height. Yes, I am still short.

Then I sat outside the doctor's office for just a few minutes. When she ushered me inside, she took a brief medical history since this was my first visit. Everything was conducted in Spanish. How do non-Spanish-speaking foreigners get through this system?! I wondered.

She looked at my throat and concluded that I needed antibiotics for my virus. No no no, I said. I do not do antibiotics anymore. I told her about the antibiotics I took in October for bronchitis that caused all kinds of yeast and UTI infections. So she backed off and wrote me two prescriptions for allergies medications.

Allergies?! I rarely am affected by allergies in this country, and when I am, it usually happens in October when it's really rainy. But then I thought about it. It was extremely dry in Spain, so much so that my skin puckered up. Then I came back to humidity and rain here in Costa Rica. Maybe my immune system was a little depressed from traveling.

I had to return to the Ebais for a third time today, at 2:30pm, to pick up my prescriptions - free of charge. So I'll try these meds and see if they help.

Getting health care here is a full-time occupation.

Susan's Birthday and Despedida

There sure are a lot of tico birthdays in April and May. So many that I wasn't sure that we'd be able to celebrate Susan's early (May 6) before she left for Canada for 2-3 weeks on April 28. But our tico friends came through.

The night before she left, Susan and I were scheduled to have our (almost) weekly dinner at Chaka's, a restaurant that serves very good and cheap typical Costa Rican food. Our favorites are garlic shrimp or breaded fish with salad and rice.

So we were sitting at our regular table when in marched a bunch of tico friends singing Happy Birthday (Feliz Cumpleaños) in Spanish. She was totally surprised, and I have to admit, I was a little surprised, too.

For two weeks I had been telling our friends that I wanted to have an early birthday and going away party for Susan. Yalile, our ringleader, said there were birthday parties scheduled for every day, and she didn't know when we could fit in Susan's. Yalile herself celebrated her 45th birthday over the four days leading up to Susan's party. Her big party at a local stable, El Picadero, complete with tables with tablecloths, her brother, Alex, playing keyboard and singing, dancing, food and much merriment was a lot of fun.

So it looked like it was just going to be Susan and me at Chaka's on Tuesday night. Until I called Yalile at 4:30 to ask (again) if she wanted to join us. She said that everyone had been asking her if we were going to have the party for Susan. In the space of three hours, she called a dozen of our friends, some of the friends got gifts (or maybe they already had them), one friend bought a cake, and they piled into cars to arrive at Chaka's around 7:30.

Our group took over the place, asking to listen to ranchero music instead of the heavy bass teeny bopper music they were playing, and being our boisterous, fun-loving selves. Susan is very well thought of in this Spanish-speaking community, and her friends turned out to wish her an early 51st birthday and a safe trip to and from Canada.

Turning 60

Me with birthday cake frosting on my face



How could this be happening? Turning 60 means I'm old, right? Wrong!

My 60th birthday celebrations have been the best in my life. Starting on April 8, I had dinner at my favorite restaurant in Costa Rica, Lubnan, which serves middle eastern food. Some of my Cariari friends and I got together to celebrate three April birthdays: mine, Sima's and Carolyn's. Ada and Joy celebrated with us. The food was very good and there was a belly dancer there that evening.


Carolyn, Joy, me, Sima and Ada at Lubnan's



The biggest party was held on Sunday, April 11. Susan, my Canadian friend, organized a big birthday bash at our favorite Sunday restaurant and bar, El Coco. She put up decorations and made food (with the owners' permission). There were about 35-45 of us - all ticos except for Susan and me. I felt very honored to be accepted by these wonderful friends. Hugo played music, and we danced, ate, drank and partied. What a blast!


The Birthday Queen wearing her crown






On Monday, I had lunch at Brad's Grille with Patty, Maria, Sharon, Fermina and Suzanne. This is the fourth birthday get-together that this group has celebrated.


Patty, Suzanne, Sharon, me, Fermina






April 13, my actual birthday, was spent teaching students I love. Then at night Indio and I went to Los Cebollines for dinner.


Indio and me






On Wednesday, my scrapbooking group - Lisa, Marilyn and Corinne - plus Bethea and I went back to the Cariari Country Club for a pool day birthday celebration. They gave me a huge gift basket full of gourmet foods.


Marilyn, Bethea, me, Lisa, Corinne






And finally, on Friday, my Thursday lunch group, which has been reduced to my scrapbooking group, Bethea and Pilar got together at Bethea's condo complex and enjoyed another pool day. Thank you, Pilar, for the bottle of tequila and shot glasses for my birthday!


Me, Bethea, Pilar, Lisa, Marilyn, Corinne




I am about partied out now. But my final celebration will be the 60th birthday present that I am giving myself: a 20-day to Spain. I leave May 5 and return May 20. I wanted to celebrate this milestone birthday in a spectacular way.

Semana Santa 2010

Susan, Nano and me



During Semana Santa, the Holy Week leading up to Easter, ticos take off work and head to the beach. This is a good time for gringos to stay put in the Central Valley and enjoy driving around without traffic jams.

The holiest days (and thus least worked) are Thursday and Friday. On Thursday Indio (my beau of two months) and I started out at 9am for a day at the beach. I was driving and planned to take the new toll-road highway. As soon as we got on the highway in Santa Ana, the backup started. Uh oh. I got off quickly and aimed for Plan B, the old highway going through San Jose and the mountain area of San Ramon. That was also a non-starter, as we were waved off the highway at an early exit. I thought there had been an accident, but it I learned later that the road was plugged up with motorists.

Plan C came to me in a flash. We wanted to go somewhere cooler than where we were. It is summer here, and the dog days in the sun are draining. I headed southeast from the capitol, where the weather comes in from the Caribbean side and tends to be cooler.

We drove through Cartago and into Paraiso (Paradise). I knew of a beautiful, free park there, El Mirador (the view), and that's where I pulled in. We spent a lovely day under a big shade tree, picnicking and napping. There was a small group of men piloting RC (remote control) planes, which was fascinating to watch.

Friday's plan to accompany Dolores to the tattoo artist fell through as the artist realized at the last moment that it was Good Friday. His cancellation made for a relaxing catch-up day for me.

On Saturday, Susan and I headed out past Cartago and Paraiso to Orosi to visit a friend of hers, Nano. Orosi is a lovely little town in a beautiful valley. We parked the car at the bottom of a mountain, and hiked up a very steep incline for 45 minutes. I am still sore three days later. Nano is a mountain man who subsists on growing coffee beans, giving tours of a waterfall, and with the help of visitors who come from all over the world and bring him things. We brought him rice, juice, bandaids, and a few other things.

We spent several hours visiting with Nano, who is a jokester and gracious host, and three other ticos who were visiting him. Susan had brought a pasta salad and we dined well, al fresco.

On Sunday I went to a pool party. There are four of us (Corinne, Marilyn, Lisa and I) who pal around together (it's our scrapbooking group, although interest in this hobby seems to be waning), we converged at Marilyn's, along with another woman from our Thursday lunch group, and their spouses. We played in the kiddie pool and ate a delicious pasta meal that Avram (Marilyn's husband) prepared. My peppermint patty brownies were a hit, too.

The last hurrah was going to the Cariari Country Club as Corinne's guest. Lisa, Corinne and I swam in the olympic-sized pool. Well, Corinne did a lot of laps; Lisa did some, and I went up and back a couple of times then pooped out. Corinne, who is married to an east Indian, helped Lisa plan her October trip to India, while I read People magazine, smug in my already-set plans for Spain next month.

I got to spend time with a lot of my favorite people, and I also had enough down time to make me happy.