When I was a little girl, we got a postcard from my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Dick, who were traveling to England on their first trip abroad. It was a lovely London double-decker bus. When we flipped it over to see what they had to say, the enthusiastically scribbled note read, "Sell eveything you have and travel!"
I took that to heart, although I don't travel nearly as much as I would like to. (Children, work, committments...)
That said, I am just back from a lovely trip to southern Spain, visiting El Puerto de la Santa Maria, which is just south of Jerez, west of Cadiz -- and the city from whence Christopher Columbus packed his ships to sail off to America. It didn't rain once while I was there. In Madrid, which is in the middle of the central plain, it rained every day. The rain in Spain does fall mainly in the plain.
The whole country is a glorious place, but I am in love with the south -- all sunshine and wine, littered with pure sandy beaches and beautiful people.
I am not fluent in Spanish, having studied French in high school and Russian in college. However, I did make an effort to learn the basics -- anyone visiting another country owes this to themselves and to their hosts. I will brag that I got to the point where I could actually ask useful questions -- Next time I go I've already promised myself that I will also understand the answers when they come.
Lest anyone think this was a vacation, let me remind you that all writers are constantly on the lookout for places to bury bodies. I found several really good ones -- the Bodega in Jerez where Tio Pepe is made was one -- the smell of the different warehouses where each vintage is stored is as distinctive as a fine perfume. When the English first came to this region (just west of Gibralter) they struggled with pronouncing the city's name: Jerez is pronounced "Hereth" locally. Brits called it Sherry, which is where the local wines got their international name. I'd always thought Sherry was terribly sweet, but the wine actually has quite a lovely variety, and the one I sampled at the Bodega (warehouse) was crisp and light.
Then there was the house across the way from my cousin's home. A perpetual party in motion, I half expected to see Paris Hilton stroll down the street and enter their gate. The last morning I was there, the party went on so long that I woke up to the sound of their music and thought it was a clock radio. If I wasn't partially deaf, I would have loved to murder one of them for leaving the music on that loud all night long. As it was my cousins hadn't slept all night -- and still had to go to work that morning.
I also enjoyed seeing the horses there, as research for a young adult or children's book I'm longing to start. With my work through the US Pony Clubs, I've come to love horses' effect on children. Breathtakingly beautiful, Andalusians have a fluid gait and regal bearing. They are often used in films as they look like all horses ought to look. One night we went down to Sanlucar's beach, where they happen to run races two weekends during the summer. As someone more used to the American way of separating the runing horses from the crowds by quite a wide space, imagine my surprise when the race thundered by within mere feet of us -- and only a 2 foot tall orange plastic fence between us and the flying hooves. I was especially charmed by the betting booths the local children put up -- decorated cardboard boxes or folding tables. the barefooted children drag a line through the sand in the racecourse in front of their booth, and take bets. The horse crossing their line first during the race pays at their booth. Perfect inspiration for a writer wanting to move in a new direction.
Once in Madrid, I stayed in a lovely hotel up by the Real Madrid Football Stadium. (That's soccer for us Americans.) I got to see a small corner of the field from my hotel room, and watched a tiny protion of one game. I was astounded by the police presence around the stadium before the game. One rowdy group of fans warranted police escort -- four mounted on those lovely white Andalusians, and a platoon of them on foot. I was too far away to hear what they were chanting, but I decided that they must be the opposition as they wore red and Real Madrid's color is blue.
The museums of Madrid are beyond compare. I made the rounds of the Prado, the Reine Sophia, and somehow missed getting into the other grand museum due to an influx of tourists who made the line so horrible I couldn't stand there one more moment. (And yes, I'm fully aware that I too was a tourist, but at least I try to be polite when I don't understand things.) The botanical gardens are some of the best I've ever seen -- with loads of spots for young couples -- and old -- to snatch a bit of together-time. And loads of quiet spots to bury bodies. I kept thinking Korine and Amilou and Janey would love to go there someday. My last stop was the Archeological museum, which was fascinating. They run their exhibit chronilogically, fromt he basement on up from pre-human fossiles to present day Spain. The focus was on the civilizations which have influenced Spain -- and the exhibit was really well-done.
I have slides and if you'd like to come over, I'll even give you dinner once I get through the eleventh wheel or so. Happy traveling!
-j-
