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Back on the road...

FROM TOULOUSE TO TARIFA

Leaving Toulouse and our relaxed stay with Andy and Shmulik. tweren't easy. They were very hospitable hosts, putting up with us much longer than my dad's tired maxim... "After 3 days guests are like fish..." (you know the rest).

Armed with borrowed maps and tons o' travel tips, we headed south to where rain... stays mainly on the plain.

But first, we had to follow up a very interesting lead.

After finding out about a unique yarn factory on a tip, we drove to the small French village of Labastide-Rouairoux, an old textile town since the middle ages.

Judy has been knitting sweaters, socks and hats for months and during our trip has specialized in hats. In fact, Jude comes by it naturally...her Grandma Ruthie was an active rabble-rouser in the millinery union long ago in New York...but that's another story...

We arrived to find the mother of all yarn factories...rooms full of 'fantasy' yarn made of wool, synthetics and cotton, and mystery yarns, not your usual bland stuff, with countless blends of shiny metallic materials and UFO's (unidentified fibrous objects) with silk, angora, you name it...cheap and plentiful...billed by the kilo

Like a one-eyed dog in a meat market, Judy was so overwhelmed that she couldn't make a decision...but an hour later we hauled out... yes sir, yes sir three bags full.

The best part? After driving away, Judy kept repeating, (with relentless regularity) "I'm SO excited!"

What's become of all that yarn? Stay tuned folks.

We continued our drive south over the French/Spanish border And arrived on the Costa Brava (or wild, rugged coast) that same evening...two days later we arrived in Cadaques.

CADAQUES

This place was made for the postcard industry. From an esthetic point of view...there ain't a bad angle in the whole town. It's full of charm and whitewashed Mediterranean beauty. Unlike many a seaside siren, she looks even better in person than she photographs...and she photographs like a high cheek boned Spanish Gypsy.

Cadaques was always a working fishing village but when Spanish and French artists courted her, she became even more attractive. Picasso lived here in the 20's. Dali, who grew up nearby, made it his permanent home, which today is a museum open to the public. Others (Bunuel, Breton, Magritte, Man Ray, Eluard and more) came here to hide out & sample its turquoise and white magic, the fishing boats and relaxed seaside cafes just a few hours drive from Barcelona.

Perhaps the cubist forms of the white houses clustered around the tall church of Santa Maria influenced the reclusive boheems... The Artwork and the artists live on as shopkeepers pander in Dali and Picasso t-shirts, hats, napkins rings & coffemugs...

There's no charge to see Dali's Surreal take on our statue of Miss Liberty...

I'm told that the village's 1,800 inhabs swell to 10,000 in August. But a February visit means locals still have control and you'll feel like you own the place. Brisk but sunny, we stayed a week to thaw out from our previous eurofreeze of Germany and France.

Being practically the only tourists we made good friends at the local cafe "La Cala." The sisters that run the place came to expect us. They kept us warm, always admired whatever new hat Judy was knitting that day and fed us fresh tuna steaks, garlic sautÈed squid, grilled sardines and lots of fresh green salads... Here's to the chefs!

After a week we decided to mosey south in our quest for warmth. We had heard about the Dali Museum in Figueras about an hour's drive east. What a mind blower!

Dali Museum: I've never been a big fan of the man who put Surrealism on the map, Salvador Dali (1904-89). But regardless of all preconceptions one thing is certain. Dali was a master showman with more than just a whiff of greasepaint and theater. He had cujones.

He personally dreamt up, designed & decorated the museum and it's one of the most astonishing art museums in the world. Dali said," there is nothing which has eluded my design." That's no exaggeration...He's even buried here.

He had an enormous creative imagination and output. I caught myself laughing and chuckling at his tongue in-cheek attitude to the highbrow ART world which he loved to provoke and shock. One is often reminded that "fine art" need not be taken so seriously. Did you know he designed jewelry too?

BARCELONA

Spain's 2nd biggest. A busy port city on the Mediterranean, university town (lots of students), lots of art, culture and exciting architecture! Big, sprawling metropolis of ochre and white. What Los Angeles might look like if it had been founded by the Phoenicians (before the birth of Hey-Zeus) without the oversized billboards.

We hung out for a week here. You could spend much longer but like all big cities, you take in great museums, churches, restaurants, shoe shops, Gaudi looking parks, the Ramblas and walks through the crowded narrow streets and you're ready to head for quieter, more wide open spaces.

Our highlights here:

The National Art Museum of Catalonia:

If nothing else, see the Romanesque art exhibit. (During the Franco Era, when dictators could get away with such things, painted mosaics and religious art from entire Pyrenees country churches were dismantled and carted off then reassembled in one large Museum...I hate to admit it but it's a good thing having such ancient and irreplaceable art in one safe place open to the public and the pious. (Many of these old country chapels and churches were falling apart).

The Joan Miro Foundation Museum:

I loved this place. Maybe not for everyone's taste but Miro's art is playful, full of magic, warmth & fantasy. For me, his child-like art touched the emotions more than the intellect. Instead of pictures of things we immediately recognize, I felt moved on an almost subconscious level. Like a child's crayon drawing, taped to the refer door... amplified and created by someone who understands the emotive power of color and symbols. Joan Miro (1893-1983) a leader in European avant-garde art since WWII...I recommend it very highly.

Picasso Museum:

Here's the place to see the real genius of this child prodigy turned international celebrity. At 15 his work is astonishing in its insight and technique. Okay, so later on he was a cad with the ladies, but this young Spaniard could paint...the guy left a legacy of incredible diversity and talent. He could paint in ANY style and then invented his own. Did you know his father was an art teacher? I didn't.

Pablo lived alone in a remote cave for a couple of weeks as a young man and later said this was one of the most important things he'd ever done as an artist. Reminds me of 'vision quests' which young native-Americans had to endure to find their personal spirit animal & true purpose in life. Remember Joseph Campbell and Robert Bly folks? Ok...I'm digressing a bit. But all these anecdotes are simply interesting background to the hard earned talent that Picasso later became famous for.

But lets not deify Picasso either. (1881-1973) Like all great artists he had many influences as the current Mattise/Picasso show at N.Y's MoMA proves. "Why shouldn't we inherit from our friends?" Picasso once asked. Matisse called Picasso a "bandit" but then, many great artists are thieves, as their duel show proves...each borrowing from the other.

If you go to Barcelona...you shouldn't miss Picasso.

Gaudi (1852-1926)

Antoni Gaudi, Barcelona's favorite son, studied architecture and created his most famous work here. Intensely religious and dedicated, he gives new meaning to the word "workaholic"...sometimes living, hidden away in a small room at his work sites. Frank Gehry can't claim that. He's the most famous and outrageous of the "Modernist" architects. (An organic, free-flowing, curvaceous building style, which lasted from the birth of my Grandfather Bert, (1888) till around the First World War.) The Spanish equivalent to what the French & English were calling Art Nouveau. His big influences were gothic, Moorish (or Islamic) and especially shapes found in nature.

No visit to Barcelona is worthy of merit badge unless you've seen Gaudi's "La Sagrada Familia" cathedral. This is Barcelona's symbol and icon. Construction began over 120 years ago and it's still years away from completion. Breathtakingly original in design, it has 8 towers, each higher than a football field, with 10 more yet to be built. See it to believe it. Truly an inspired work and one could also add... Possessed.

My photos show one of Gaudi's commissioned Apartment houses called "Casa Mila". No shortage of interesting angles on the rooftop terrace. Most of the warrior figures are chimneys and building vents...

The Spanish have been warm and generous hosts... One afternoon we met a couple of smartly dressed sisters at lunch in a Gothic quarter bar/restaurant. Communication is problematic because in Catolonia, Spanish sounds more like French. But these two retired-aged ladies just wanted to make sure we were having a good time in their city. They were bar regulars waving over the owner at one point. And they kept telling Jason how handsome he was..."Guapo, Guapo!" they repeating in stereo while gesturing with their fingers across their chins. Judy loved them immediately. As we left the restaurant, we noticed they were out dancing together on the square to an impromptu jazz band playing for small change. That sealed it.

Speaking of Jason, here he is with Judy at the Barceloneta Beach With a plaque stating: "A view of the Mediterranean is for me a necessity," Antoni Gaudi

For those of you who're forgetting what we looked like, here we are in Barcelona.

By the way, to my dear old friend Fred in Albuquerque... These ARE the 'cliff notes' dude.

GRANADA: (The Alhambra)

What popular destination attracts more tourists than any other in all of Espana? Right, The Alhambra in Granada. (8,000, camera-tote'n, guidebook carryin' touristas per day!) We were lucky to get a ticket without booking in advance. (God bless the off-season travel spirits!)

No joking...this place simply takes your breath away. It features The best-preserved Muslim architecture in all of Spain, the highest refinement of the Moorish kings' artistic expression. Stunning and memorable. One is simply humbled by the laborious, handmade detailing of Islamic design on palace arches, ceilings and tiles featuring only geometric shapes and Arabic writing...with no depictions of animals or people. This was seen as an affront to G_d. One doesn't copy or improve upon what G_d has created perfect already. So artists had to be creative and use only phrases from the Koran and geometric design to enhance the Arab Kings palatial grandeur.

And did you know, it was an American author Washington Irving, whose popular book "Tales of the Alhambra" helped to inspire public interest in restoring this 13th century Muslim palace/fortress and its esteemed place in popular culture today.

Let me set something straight. Even though it may sound like it, I am not a travel writer. I just feel it adds to the excitement when one has a little background knowledge. A sense of history instills more appreciation for these old people, places and things.... Maybe you feel the same way. I suppose if you're this far in you're either my mom or someone with a love of the past. One can't just flounce in, take a few 'happy snaps' and be awarded the world traveler merit badge. That's just a piece of tin anyway. And besides, where's the magic and drama?

A piece of the Rock

Even from a distance, you recognize Gibraltar by its solid, lopsided shape. "Hey, it's a piece of the rock!" said Judy. "What insurance company used to advertise that?" she asked. Well...you all know, right?

We crossed the airfield into Gibraltar careful to dodge any commercial jet landings and headed for some lunch. It's odd in the midst of Spain to suddenly see all signs in English, with Pubs and shoppes and Her Majesty's this and that all over the place. Our meal was forgettable as in over-cooked, deep-fried, fish and chips with flat English ale. So much for tasty English dining which is an oxymoron anyway.

We took a sky tram up to the Rock top for a view. Terrific view of the harbor, town and bay of Algeciras in the distance. Gibraltar isn't huge...about 30,000 or (for family & friends in the Northwest) about the size of Bremerton...without the Wal-Mart and Value Village anyway.

Took a few happy snaps then hiked downhill to introduce ourselves to the real long-term residents. The Barbary Apes.

Legend has it that British rule will last as long as the apes on the rock. Since Churchill ordered reinforcements to a dwindling ape colony in 1944 they've flourished and today number about 200...and they were definitely "Cheeky monkeys!"

TARIFA

A Canadian I met at the beach one day remarked that Tarifa Reminded him a lot of northern California in the 60's... lots of young people, a laid back surf-culture with colorful magic buses and vans of all shapes and nationalities, free camping along the Spanish shore.

It's the wind and kite surf capitol of Europe...But Tarifa has hidden treasures beyond its sand and surf. It's an old Moorish town built on the southernmost tip of Europe which recently has become a very popular destination for cold-blooded northern Europeans who come for its sunshine, wind and straw-colored, sandy beaches. We used it as a base to explore the white washed hill-towns of Andulusia and Spanish jewels like Seville and Ronda. There's also great rock climbing, scuba diving, horseback riding, Sherry wineries of Jerez and hiking through cork forests, all within an easy drive.

By luck, we found a cozy wooden cottage up on a hill overlooking the coast and the cow pastures...just 10 mins from town. And the view was astonishing...

On a clear day, you can see the Rif (rhymes with kiff) mountains of Morocco across the strait of Gibraltar. You're just 9 miles away from Africa.

The days wiz by in Tarifa. Judy knits, reads, cooks and stays around the cottage during the day listening to the sounds of mooing cows and the soft melodic ring of bells as a herd of goats moseys past... roosters crowing, hens clucking nervously and gray-skinned piggys snort and dogs would sound off at night...it was like living on a free-range farm. One morning I woke up to find our yard full of horses eating our slightly overgrown lawn. Neighbor dogs would smell our food cooking in the evening and come by looking for handouts. They were hard to deny and I usually gave in to their rehearsed sad looks... I made a lifelong pal with a little red rooster who boldly came near the front door almost every morning looking for breadcrumbs...He sized me up pretty quickly and soon became a frequent breakfast guest. Judy would wake me with..."and your 'FRIEND' is out here waiting... you couldn't get rid of the cocky guy.

Jason & I decided to make some music for our little place And bought some computer speakers to hook up to an Apple Ipod (about the size of a pack of cigarettes)...We played lots of James Taylor, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Carmen, Hank Williams, Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darin, Ella & Frank, and show tunes from 'Annie get your Gun,' 'Chicago', 'South Pacific'... to set the mood at our little farm house by the sea.

Since Tarifa's allure my friend, is blowin in the wind, Jason and I decided to give Kite Surfing a try.

This is a new sport and combines riding a surfboard (attached to your feet) while flying a large 14-16 meter wide kite. It feels like water-skiing combined with surfing and sailing. We sucked in a few mouthfuls of air for courage, then some mouthfuls of seawater and sand while trying to get the hang of it and had a fun couple of days.

We took some lessons and actually made it up a few times... Most of all it was a blast just being out on the water (it's chilly but not as cold as Puget sound!) and being with other wanna-be surf dudes...from Paris, Australia, the Faro Islands, or just down from Madrid for the weekend.

We had great teachers especially an Argentine named Oracio. He used to be an Advertising executive in Buenos Aires before developing, as he put it, "a hole in my stomach" and decided to change career paths... Now he makes a living teaching kite surfing to folks from all over the world who come here to catch the wind.

He's a lovely guy and a devoted family man with a wonderful "don't sweat the small stuff" outlook on life.

Our month in Tarifa already feels like a classic. A point in time which even now, we look back upon with great affection not least because of The generosity and warmth of our hosts, Francisco and Yolanda Araujo who both grew up as farmer's kids right here on this same hill.

If you're ever in Tarifa, be sure to look up Francisco at his "Restaurant Morilla" right in the heart of the old Town. You can't miss it.

RONDA

Perched on the precipice of a dizzying ravine plunging 360 feet down, Ronda is built on one of the most dramatic places imaginable. Another older than time kind of a place, Ronda is not only historic but romantic and charming in a way few destinations really live up to.

But for all the famous sites and historic attractions, I was most taken by the Ronda Bullring with its classic columned architecture and intimate size. We did some of our own 'fighting' out in the ring before venturing inside to the museum to see suits of lights and famous matadors of old. You're in good company; Orson Welles and Hemmingway both were here... Raising hell no doubt.

SEVILLE

We spent almost a week in Seville. One could easily live there. They're nuts for anything Flamenco, but it's very hot in the summer, so springtime...that's the season to go. Every time we thought it might be time to move on, we'd find something else we wanted to do.

Like taking a walking tour of the old city and Cathedral where Christopher Columbus is buried. Or getting lost in the narrow, cobbled alleys of the old Jewish section called "Santa Cruz." We had to see a Flamenco show that had me clapping wildly at El Arenal, took a boat tour of the Gaudalquivir River, took a romantic carriage ride through the old 1929 worlds fair grounds...Wandered the shopping streets and saw American movies in original version. Paid a visit to the famed Seville Bullring and museum...and...ate lots of Tapas.

We heard about a neighborhood bar in the Triana district called "Anselma" where Sevillianers play music and the audience can dance if the spirit moves...and it usually does. Anselma herself is a raven-haired, cut up.

She's a non-stop talker who sings mournful Gypsy ballads like a Sevillian Edith Piaf and opens her bar, weekends only, beginning at midnight. The place was packed and as we left at 2am, Anselma, like a thoughtful parish priest, shook hands and thanked each one personally for coming as the place was preparing to begin a second show...

NO WAR

While in Seville there was a large Anti-war demonstration, peaceful and well attended...I read in the Spanish daily El Pais that 80-90% of Spaniards polled were against their governments stand supporting war in Iraq. "No ala Guerra" (no war) signs were everywhere in all the major Spanish cities we've been to and as last minute diplomacy and weapons inspectors were withdrawn it grew even more so...

Many have written us asking about the reactions of Europeans and whether we've experienced any anti-Americanism. We have not had a single bad experience, negative remark or anything even remotely construed as anti-American since being here. Our hosts couldn't be friendlier. But even little old Portuguese ladies who speak perhaps two words of English make a face and draw their index finger across their neck when they mention "Boosh!"

As I see it, most Europeans are simply astonished and repulsed by the aggressive "My way or the highway" actions of the American government...not angry with all Americans.

JASON: SPRING HAS SPRUNG LOOSE!

Just when I was getting tired of lugging the camera around, Jason would start jumping up into Cork trees, leap from a sand dune or lay in a hollowed out boulder in a farmers field...so I'm calling this the "Spring fashion spread" because Jason's such a natural subject and the camera loves him.

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