Semana Santa

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In Spain, a country where the vast majority of the population are reportedly Catholic, one would be right to expect the religious festival surrounding Easter to be a grand affair. When Adam and I first agreed to meet up with Claire to travel through Andalusia over the Easter weekend, we paid little attention to the significance of this time of year. We mistakenly left most of the essential trip planning to the very last minute, falsely assuming that accommodation shouldn't be a big issue and car hire would be a breeze with so many car companies servicing this region. It was with a mild sense of panic that we scrambled to pull the trip together as it drew ever closer. The first big hiccup was our belated realisation that Easter is one of the most popular times to travel to Andalusia, especially as the region is famed for the Easter parades occurring throughout 'Semana Santa', Easter week. Car hire was very difficult to find, made even more challenging by the fact that we'd each been in possession of UK driving licenses for a maximum one year and most companies won't hire to such inexperienced drivers...frustrating (especially as we've all held Aus driving licenses for years and years but had to hand these in to get British ones!) We'd decided to camp too and locating camping sites was much more difficult than originally anticipated. Most of the camping sights are located on the coast and it took a lot more searching and deciphering of Spanish websites to find camping near the cities we hoped to visit. Just as we thought we'd finally pulled it together, we were almost thwarted en route to the airport when Adam and I found ourselves still 70km from the airport, stuck in a traffic jam on the M1, with a passenger side window that was completely refusing to close! By the time we'd overcome these hurdles, fought our way through the crowds of holiday-makers at East Midlands airport, landed in Spain and successfully found our hostel in Malaga, we felt like we'd been on an epic journey already. As we all joked throughout the weekend, the lead-up to this trip really felt like a farce in every respect and we really had no one to blame but ourselves.

However, there was nothing farcical about our first introduction to the religious rituals of Semana Santa during that first evening in Spain. Having set out for a stroll through Malaga in search of food and to have a 'look-see' through the old town, it was with curiosity we followed the crowds of people who all seemed to be converging to line the main streets, silently waiting and looking down the street with solemn expectation. We joined the crowds who'd gathered in their thousands and waited. It wasn't too long before the reason for the gathering became clear-a huge religious float was being carried down the main street, led by masked men of the local religious order. The float itself was adorned with candles and ornamental Christian statues. It was truly enormous, carried by the might of approximately 20 adult men, their movement coordinated by the beating of a drum and the leader's staff hitting the ground with a sharp thud. People stood and watched as incense was dispensed and the sweet smell filled the night air. The crowd watched silently as the masked figures in their red robes and the float passed, some then turning to follow the procession and others heading onwards, holding tight to their children’s' hands and trying to make their way through the dense crowds. It was truly unlike anything we'd ever experienced before. And as we'd discover, this was the first of many Semana Santa parades we'd marvel at in the days to come.

Like all the other aspects of our poorly planned trip, we'd given absolutely no thought about the need to speak Spanish during this visit. Our only previous experience of travelling in Spain had been our visits to Barcelona, where everyone speaks more than enough English to communicate with ease. It was somewhat surprising when we sat down to eat in a small cafe late that first night that there was not a single wait person in the place who spoke even a word of English. And so began one of the most comical dining experiences of my life. Without the aid of a guidebook or any form of translation tool, we sat staring down the menu of 'racions' and hastily trying to recall any of the beginners Spanish course we'd done over 4 years ago. We selected four dishes, a glass of red wine for me and a beer for Adam. The arrival of our drinks gave us the first inkling that something might have been lost during our communication. Adam's beer arrived successfully, accompanied by the world's smallest red wine glass in the world. Minutes later out came our meal-small pieces of small toast topped with ham and quail eggs, some form of crab stick inspired creamy seafood mush, a plate of dry-cured ham, Spanish potato salad and a plate full of bread. Yes, that was dinner night one! Bueno!

We met the third member of 'team Spain' at Malaga airport the next day. Claire's journey to the airport was far smoother than ours but it took her an hour to collect her baggage when she flew into Malaga. We then had substantial trouble locating the desk for the car company we'd hired from and after a few laps around the undercover car park dragging luggage behind us, we eventually hired our first left-hand drive car. Adam was brave enough to drive and I have to say, we all felt quite nervous as we donned our seat belts and set off. We breathed our first sign of relief after Adam had confronted his first round-a-bout. After hitting the motorway, it was pretty much smooth sailing-even as Adam dealt with driving on the right hand side up a mountain! We arrived at our first destination without incident, and then had some comic relief watching Claire attempt to put up her brand new tent for the first time. I must confess, the tent she'd purchased seemed like a mansion compared to our itty bitty one and it was a bit challenging to put up. The ground itself was rocky and unrelenting. Without tools, we made the most of large rocks on the site to 'hammer' in our tent pegs. All-in-all, it must have taken the three of us at least an hour (though I am pleased to report we had the tent thing down to a fine art by our final day camping).

The gorgeous village called Ronda where we set up camp is located in a mountainous area, with its 'old' and 'new' towns separated by a bridge spanning a huge gorge. The gorge itself-El Tajo-was magnificent-a clear vertical drop down of at least 200 metres. It was really spectacular to see and the views in every direction were absolutely stunning. We wandered around the path winding along the gorge-struggling to locate a path down into it's depths but it seemed to be closed to pedestrian access. Admittedly, it was extremely windy around the gorge. Ronda is also famed as being the home of modern bullfighting and the bullring is quite elegant, perched near the edge of the gorge in the centre of town. At the entry to the bullring are statues honouring two famous bullfighters of Ronda, Cayetano Ordonez and Antonio Ordonez. We unfortunately lacked time to go inside the museum dedicated to bullfighting-indeed I doubt we explored even a quarter of all that was on offer in this ancient city. But it was a really lovely place to wander around for a few hours.

We encountered our second Easter parade here in Ronda, which like in Malaga, was very heavily populated with children, beating their own small drums and blowing whistles and horns. Claire was mesmerised by her first encounter with this rite, whilst I could not help but stare in fascination at the attire of the men of the religious order, and most especially, their long pointy hats with the mask covering their faces. It was eerily reminiscent of images of the Ku Klux Klan attire, and I wondered if this group had indeed taken the inspiration for their white gowns from the outfits of religious men, like those now parading solemnly through the streets of Ronda. In any case, I found it entirely fascinating and we all marvelled at the elusive significance of the gowns worn during yet another attempt at dinner at a Spanish tapas bar that evening. We'd done quite well with lunch food-having found a fantastic little restaurant with an English translation of a very traditional Spanish menu. But dinner was another matter-again, we found ourselves stuck trying to decipher the foreign menu. Fortunately, Adam and I will east most things as demonstrated through our consumption of 'beef cheeks' that evening. Claire was a little more challenged by the deciphering but it was a good cause for a laugh as we sat without any idea what it was we'd just ordered to eat!

We headed north-east the following day to Cordoba and I had my first experience of driving. I must confess, I lasted all of about 40 minutes before handing the car over to Adam again to take the reigns. The whole experience of driving on the right hand side was too stressful for me, and it was impossible to take in any of the surrounds as I was concentrating so firmly on staying on my side of the road. Adam meanwhile was thrilled to be given the wheel again, and I have to say, he drove as if he'd been doing it all his life (for days after our return to the UK, he lamented the location of the gear stick as he was constantly attempting to change gears with his right hand as he'd become so accustomed to whilst in Spain!) Cordoba is home to the 'Mezquita', an ancient structure dating back to the 6th century when a Christian Church first stood on this site. Following the Islamic invasion in 785, the dominating Muslims proceeded to build a mosque on the site. It was subsequently expanded upon for another 500 years under Islamic rulers, with both Islamic and Christian artists contributing to the design and decorations, before the Christians reconquered Cordoba in 1236. The Christians sought to recuperate this sacred space that had suffered the imposition of a faith distant from the Christian experience. They subsequently adorned the existing structure with more Christian symbols and recreating an alter, chapels and treasury. The mosque and the cathedral now form one huge structure showcasing the architectural and decorative contrasts side by side. The structure is now a World Heritage Site, and it's the first of any Islamic inspired architectural showpieces I'd ever seen. I was completely surprised and awed by the building design-from the cloisters surrounding the Orange Tree Courtyard through to the red and white arches and columns, the surrounding chapels, leading on to the Altarpiece and the Nave...it is truly unlike anything I've ever seen before.

We spent a lovely afternoon wandering around the town and stumbled across one of the true gems of this region of Spain-a traditional tea cafe serving tea and other beverages as well as local sweets. Adam was thrilled to discover Baklava was on this and every menu of each teahouse to follow- and so it was that we spent an hour or two lounging in the comfy pillow clad bench seats, surrounded by locals and tourist alike, sipping tea and nibbling sweets and never wanting to leave! This was the first of many hours we'd spend in this manner...taking tea is this region is an essential element of each day and the varieties on offer were mind-blowing. I became totally hooked! Reluctantly, as the evening drew ever closer, we were forced to conclude that we must reach our campsite before it got dark. So we left our tranquil tea house to arrive at our campsite only to find yet more rocky hard ground which necessitated more rock hammering! How's the serenity? By the time we'd set-up camp, we were famished and headed into the centre of town, only to find there was very little in the way of cafes or restaurants. We had a choice of 2 in essence, one predominantly a bar serving (possibly microwave reheated) pizza, and another smoke-hazed local taverna. We chose the latter and again found ourselves challenged by our inability to decipher the menu. Fortunately, there was an English speaking diner that translated the essence of the menu, with a delightful waiter standing by nodding his head vigorously as he confirmed each food group or meat specified by our kind translator. It was one of the best meals we ate in Spain though-Adam and I devoured a plate of fresh anchovies dressed in a vinaigrette whilst trying to convince Claire to take a bite! Eventually though, fed and watered, we all wandered back to our campsite with full bellies and content smiles on our faces.

En-route to our final stop, we detoured through one of the most gorgeous little mountain villages I've ever visited, Zuheros. There's not a lot there...a few local restaurants, a church or two, a post office and grocery store and tourist information office all rolled into one. It is evidently a town where everyone knows everyone and as obvious outsiders, we were subject to a rather indiscreet 'up and down' appraisal by each of the locals we passed. Being Easter Sunday, local families had converged on what I guess must classify as the town square-a large courtyard area outside a local church. The courtyard is overshadowed by a massive rock looming skyward, and the land surrounding the outcrop consists mainly of olive groves. There were miles and miles of olive groves stretching out from the foot of the mountain-a completely beautiful image. Adam and I vowed to return to this tiny village some day-to complete some of the amazing walks and spend a few days soaking up the delights of village life.

Arriving into Granada later that evening, was terrific. This city was a barrel of surprises for me. Being so close to North Africa, the influence of this continent was evident at every turn. It was a busy, bustling city-full to the brim with locals on the streets celebrating the Easter festival and many tourists keen to unveil the secrets of this very old town. One of the best discoveries we made in our few days here was the 'Haman' or Turkish baths nestled away in a small side street in the centre of town. We'd booked in advance as recommended and it was quite lucky we did as this was an experience I would have been terribly sad to have missed. The baths consisted of three pools of varying temperatures-cold, warm and hot-as well as a steam room which smelt of menthol and eucalyptus. You donned swimwear and then were free to roam in the dimly lit rooms, drinking tea and basking in the pools and steam room. We were each treated to a 15minute massage whilst there and it was heavenly. It truly felt like we'd escaped to another world and emerged two hours later as relaxed ethereal beings. Magic.

The thing Granada is most famed for is the Alhambra-an enormous walled palace (or should I say palaces) showcasing Islamic art and architecture. The Alhambra translates to mean 'red fortress' and it is truly breathtaking, inside and out. Overlooking the city, the structure was added to by each Muslim leader ruling the city from the 11th through to the 15th century. It is unlike any other spectacle I've seen before. We joined a tour group to explore this site and spent a wonderful few hours wandered around the magnificent gardens before heading to the 'summer palace' and finally into the masterpiece that is the Nasrid Palace. The patios and woodwork and mosaics on the site were amazing. It is simply impossible to describe how beautiful this palace was. While on site, we were able to visit a workshop which still makes mosaic tiles in the traditional way. This was demonstrated by one of the chief workman and both Claire and I were completely captivated. Needless to say, it was impossible to leave without a souvenir and I purchased a gorgeous mosaic tray. Every time I look at it now, I'm still captivated by how intricate it is! Perfect for tea taking!

After the splendour that was Granada, we spent our final day in Spain driving back toward Malaga, passing through the towns of the Costa Del Sol on the way. The beaches in this area were quite nice (although quite pebbly admittedly) but for three Aussie travellers-it was magic just to be near the sea again. One of the things I miss most overseas is being near water, so the opportunity to drive along the coast road, stopping for ice-cream and drinks by the sea, was the best possible way to end a fantastic few days in beautiful Andalusia.

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