Week 4, I think.

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A funny thing happened on the way to Córdoba. That sounds like a good way to start this blog, because actually, we did have a tiny adventure.

The day we left Granada we arrived at the station of Antequerra St Ana (which happens to be in the middle of nowhere) and had two hours to spare before our connecting train’s arrival. Mark suggested going into the town to have some lunch. We managed to find the only taxi available but it had no driver. When the driver arrived, he explained the trip would take about 20 mins, which was longer than we had anticipated, but after a quick calculation we decided the detour and lunch could be achieved in the time we had.

With my halting, Spanish and his basic English we arranged a place to eat, suggested by Miguel, and he agreed to hang around so as to take us back to the station. I was quite impressed with the communication that had occurred.

The food was good, he returned at the allotted time and on the way back, I asked him a few basic questions in Spanish. He told me that he had been born in France and spoke French! From then on, we chatted away very happily for the rest of the journey, both of us quite relieved to have chanced upon a lingua franca. You will be pleased to know, we made it back in time to catch our train.

Arriving in Córdoba, I liked the place immediately. Ironically, we only spent one full day there.

On that Saturday, it was the last day of a local religious fiesta. There were many beautiful Spanish women wearing the sort of clothing we would normally associate with flamenco dancers. They were like clusters of brightly coloured mobile flowers dotted around the town as we walked about getting our bearings.

The Mesquita in Córdoba started out as a church, became a great mosque and then became a church again. It has been one of my favourite places to visit so far. It is magical. A 16th century Christian cathedral sits in the middle of the former enormous mosque. After having been extended three times, it was once able to hold 40,000 people. There are apparently 856 marble columns in the interior all with characteristic terracotta and white striped arches. The repeated patterns that are formed by this army of columns and arches is mesmerising. We were lucky enough to get in at about 9 am before the descent of the hordes of tourists. It was quite dark inside which only enhanced the orangey, warm tones of the interior and created a reverent atmosphere. Everyone who was there at the time was respectful and quiet and I found the experience just sublime.

On Monday, we travelled to Baeza, a small sleepy town which is a UNESCO world heritage site. It lies in the province of Jaén which produces one sixth of the world’s olive oil! Have I mentioned how good Spanish olive oil is? I could just drink it. Baeza has a very well preserved old town rich in Renaissance architecture. I think I now love Baeza the best! It can be my favourite small town in Spain, can’t it?

How to describe it? The streets are cobbled, of course, the laneways and streets are narrow, of course. There are many churches, a couple of towers, a cathedral, arches, porticos, town gates, fountains all which give this town a very obvious and immediate charm. But the clincher for me came when we took a rather quaint half hour panoramic tour on a mini bus (which sometimes barely scraped past cars and walls!). The mini bus exited a narrow street and turned into an open space where a view of the Parque Natural Sierra de Baza and the Sierra Nevada range opened up before us. The seemingly continuous stretch of mountains lay beyond a vast valley created by the Guadalquivir River. As Baeza is perched on a cliff about 4.8 kilometres from the river, it was as if we were on the edge of the world looking at an ocean before us but instead of water, the vista was of an apparently endless valley and beyond it an equally endless mountain range. It was almost primordial and it literally took my breath away. I have never seen anything quite like it before and I shall treasure seeing that vista for the rest of my life.

Úbeda is the twin older cousin of Baeza and is only 9 kms away. It too is a UNESCO world heritage site. We visited it on Tuesday 31 May and spent a happy morning there wandering about, oohing and aahing at beautiful old architecture and had another superb lunch (menù deI dia again). I thought it had some beautiful spots, but I still like Baeza the best.

Wednesday was a day for travelling to Valencia (I have to confess, these slow train journeys taking us from place to place are wearing me down a little. Four hours on a train is a bit boring even with the best scenery, a book to read, cryptic crosswords to do and a snooze or three).

On our arrival, it was time for the paseo (walk) and we did a leisurely one around some famous city sites. I think I was tired and grouchy: the city did not immediately appeal despite re-visiting the train station to marvel at the magnificent tile mosaics which were really something.

However, on Thursday we did a bike tour with Bettina from Valencia Bikes for what was to be a wonderful three hour private bike tour. No one else had booked for that time slot! Initially, she took us through the Jardines del Turia. This is the old river bed of the River Turia which was diverted from flowing near the old city after a devastating flood in 1957. The city council had debated about what to do with the old river bed for years and was going to put a highway through it but the people of the Valencia insisted on having the space turned into gardens for the benefit of everyone. Today it is about 10 kilometres of verdant space with playing fields, skate parks, dog parks and just the most beautiful trees and plants, bike, jogging and walking paths. It is such a wonderful legacy for the people of Valencia.

We also visited some of the old town stopping at a lovely cloistered former convent which is now an art gallery and eventually made it to the last part of the old river bed which today houses extremely modern architectural buildings such as the Opera House, the Science Museum and a Marine Park. It was a very impressive area.

After the bike tour (I love riding a bicycle – it always lifts my mood and it is such a great way to discover a city) I decided I did like Valencia after all.

We went to see Valencia’s beach on Friday morning and I was not overly impressed by it. Later that morning we had another Showaround tour experience with a local chap, Danny, who showed us some secret spots that he knew about in the city. We visited the Roman ruins behind the cathedral and actually came back the next morning to see the inside of the museum properly. It was well worth the trip: the excavations were extensive and impressive.

That afternoon after perhaps the best lunch we have had so far on this trip we rested. The restaurant/shoe shop (!!) was called Trece and was in Callatrava street number 12 - blink and you miss it! We had three small starters, arroz al horno (a rice dish cooked in the oven with duck in it among other delicacies – an alternative to paella) and a dessert for 12 euros! All courses were excellent.

Saturday morning, we paid a quick visit to the ceramic museum in Valencia (Museo Nacional de Cerámica y de las Artes Suntuarias “González Mari” – that’s some name huh?) which was housed in a very impressive building. It was all very sumptuous!

That morning I enjoyed my second and last horchata with Mark at, allegedly, the best place to try this distinctive Valencian drink, Horchateria de Santa Catalina. This refreshing concoction is a milky sweet drink made with something called a chufa (“tiger nut”). This is actually a tuber. Into your horchata, you dip a finger shaped light bun called a, wait for it, fartón. It is delicious. My only regret is that I only managed to sample two while in the citY.

We are now on a train bound for Barcelona. This is our last destination for about three days before a wee cruise, our first ever. Soon we will enjoy our lunch – rolls bought at the Mercado Centrale this morning for 1 euro each. Bargain!

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