Travelling Days - 2011

 






 And then there was Granada. A few days with Billie, being introduced to the tourist delights of the quaint cobbled streets of the Albaicin and to the yummiest, cheapest gelato, in more varieties than I could ever imagine – heavenly! Spanish manners and buses and endless throngs of tourists wending their way up and down the Albaicin – the old city from the days when the Moors ruled Spain. They held out against the Christians longer than anywhere else here and left a legacy of exquisite architecture.

When Hannah came back from Berlin, we spent three weeks together while she packed up her life in Spain ready to head off to California. The highlight for me was going to the Alpujarra for three days.  High up in the mountains of the Sierra Nevada, we stayed in a village almost empty of tourists and could walk along mountain trails while stuffing ourselves with wild figs and grapes – the Mediterranean is a food bowl overflowing with delights. I hardly heard a bird sing, or saw any native animals, but there is food for humans everywhere. There is also water everywhere, one of the attractions of the area for the Moors who delighted in its abundance. Water cisterns through Granada and in the countryside are fantastic for cooling off and drinking.

The gypsy barrio of Sacramonte was my favourite place, whitewashed cave houses dotting the hillside – little front doors off the steep cobbled laneways, opening to reveal cool little houses dug out of the hillside. The doors of Spain are worthy of an entire book, there is nowhere near enough room here except to say they are mindboggling. Many of them in the Albaicin were made huge and thick enough to keep invaders out - and big enough to herd the horses and animals inside for the winter. I could see why Tara took a million photos of them. Anyway, the cave houses spread out in a scatter across the hillside, getting sparser as you climb up the dry, rocky outcrops and ending in beautiful quiet bush, from where the beauty of the city and of the Alhambra is best enjoyed at sunset. I went up there as much as I could – and treated myself to an early morning birthday walk along the hills to the Abbadia del Sacromonte, where fascinating ancient crypts and relics of martyrs were revealed.

I could have stayed in Billie’s friend’s cave overnight, but I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Hannah – so just enjoyed watching part of the gypsy fiesta one evening. Gazing down at some of the locals displaying their flamenco dancing, singing and guitar was absolutely magical. The nights were warm and balmy and a walk through the barrio, or even the Albaicin, always found me some figs or grapes. I learnt to stay awake a little longer in the evening, it’s compulsory in Spain – in lieu of starving, I even learnt to drink shandies in order to be able to partake of tapas in the many little bars. There was music everywhere, lots of buskers and some great flamenco performances.

It was great to watch Hannah busking in the little plazas of the Albaicin, she is wonderfully alive and funny and beautiful and singing really well, people loved it – especially the locals who have come to know her. My favourite place to watch her was near the Mirador San Nicolas, where lots of people come to gaze at the Alhambra – but I liked it best for the gelato, which was the bees knees. The story is that the sultans of old sent their fastest riders to the snow-covered mountains of the Sierra Nevada by night, to return with buckets of fresh snow – which was then covered in sweet syrup…so Granada has a long tradition to keep up.

And after Granada there was South-East Asia, Vietnam and Laos. Met some of the loveliest people on earth there and had some amazing adventures. My mate Brendan joined me for the 6 weeks and we traversed a lot of country together. We landed first in Hanoi where we stayed in the Harmony Hotel on the exquisitely smelly Street of Herbal Medicine – and were treated so well by the lovely staff. It was a great introduction to the country.

I did a memorial pilgrimage to Uncle Ho’s mausoleum and even though it was closed it was an amazing feeling to be there and to be there with all the other pilgrims. Outside was also a huge quiet space, free of motorcycles and peaceful – rare in the busy city, which is totally chockers with motorbikes, trucks, pushbikes, buses and cars. We kind of enjoyed dodging traffic and exploring the myriad shopping-themed streets of the Old Town (if you want to buy a pot, you go to the street where all the pot shops are). Then a cyclone threatened to derail not just our planned trip to Halong Bay but also take the fun out of sloshing through filthy crowded streets in the rain – so we caught a plane to Luang Prabang in Laos and it was the best move we could have made.

We landed in Heaven. It took a bit of hunting to find the cheapest and best accommodation but I finally found the Nam Sok III and we stayed there for the best part of three weeks. It made a great base to explore some of the 32 Buddhist temples in this small fairytale city, or to venture out further on rented pushbikes. I ventured a little too far one day in a misguided search for elephants that landed me in the local hospital with concussion, a blue thumb and some stitches in my face and hand. Brendan looked after me with great care, bringing fresh coconuts for juice every morning and yummy food from the many great little restaurants around. After a few days in bed I was well enough to potter around the streets without getting dizzy and to enjoy sitting by the Mekong in a café under shady trees – our favourite spot for internetting.

To be continued….

Beautiful Barcelona

I have to start writing my blog again: facebook just isn't enough for all the thoughts, images and experience that travelling inspires.I really enjoyed my brief stay in Kuala Lumpur on the way over, the sights sounds and smells of Asia always feel like home – but four days ago, when I left there, feels like an eternity away so I am going to journal my travels as they happen before it all disappears into the next chapter.

SO here I am now in beautiful Barcelona, a place so full of history and ARCHITECTURE! There must be some massive quarries here, because the city is huge. Yes, this must be a very rocky place: all the thousands of buildings are built from local stone - huge cathedrals, medieval palaces, government buildings, unbelievable ancient roman walls - all made from stone. Incredibly beautiful city, Gaudi is but a part of it... the more I see, the more I understand the influences on his work.. There are high rise apartments everywhere: right up to the beach, fronting the cathedrals, along medieval lanes ...not a bungalow to be seen. It's fantastic the way that history merges with the present everywhere – cafes and squares full of people (mostly tourists!) where Roman chariots once rolled by, people drinking coffee where Franco's bombs once killed children. These buildings are so old, wherever the rendering is worn you can see patched and repatched stonework that has survived for centuries. One corner of a building was worn and scraped, most likely by chariots repeatedly driven at speed. It all combines to give a sense of enduring culture that is very powerful. 

I have had the amazing good fortune to be staying with my beautiful generous couchsurfing host, Elena, who loves her city and loves sharing it. Ever since I made contact with her I have felt at home here. She is so welcoming and friendly and so keen to show me her beautiful city. It might be better if the neighbours weren't so noisy at night (it's an apartment building with a big ventilation well in the centre that everyone's bedroom windows open onto, so it's a bit like sleeping with 50 people!), but I am coping well and really enjoying it despite feeling a little jetlagged...

It is also extremely HOT! I have been catching the metro everywhere and the winds that blow down the metro stairs from above are really welcome. Shops are airconditioned but houses not - all these highrise flats everywhere, with little tiny balconies. This district is called Gracia, was once a village but now part of Barcelona city. Gaudi's PArc Nuell is just up the hill, a short walk to fantasy. I love it - imaginative architecture that uses rockwork to create beautiful organic spaces. And the famed gingerbread house buildings with rounded corners and fantastic shapes and mosaics are just lovely. I can't really afford to go inside but am enjoying the outsides - I keep thinking of Gaudi as an exterior (rather than interior) decorator – although I know they will be equally beautiful and exotic within. 

Elena has taken me to see the old walled original town, with parts of the original Roman wall intact and even more parts that have been incorporated into medieval buildings - narrow cobbled winding streets full of magic, fascinating little shops and tourists! And buskers, there is entertainment everywhere. Opera in the .street and even a drunk interrupting to make it feel like home...

Yesterday I went to the market and just now finished off the glorious fresh figs and strawberries I bought there - the stalls are fantastic, they take so much trouble to make their displays absolute works of art - you can't just pick the fruit you want because it would interrupt their creations! There was every delectable imaginable and I brought home salmon to cook for our dinner, which Elena appreciated. She is so lovely and so keen to practise her English because she is going to England for a months holiday soon. It is amazing to feel so welcomed by a stranger - we get on really well and I feel absolutely at home here. It is a climb up 5 flights of stairs to her flat, great exercise too! Her block of flats is on the corner of Carrer Providencia and Carrer Alegre de Dalt - providence and happiness in the village of Grace, very apt!

Many of the museums in Barca are free Sundays after 3 pm - Elena says most of the good Picassos are all over the world, but I went to the Picasso museum anyway and didn't regret it, nor even the 45 minute queue in the muggy heat. The museum covers his whole life and works, fascinating to see how his skills developed and changed from a very young age.

It was a museum sort of day – I peeked at the pre-Columbian South American museum, so validating of their culture – modern art has so much in common with Indigenous art in capturing essence. And then Elena and I went back in time to the Museum of History – unbelievable! The basement of the building has been excavated and we walked among the layers of history there – from Roman through to Gothic and Medieval – such a brilliant way to experience history. My inner archaeologist was in bliss! And my feet were verging on being in blisters, we walked so far on my last day, all over the beautiful old city.

Now I am in Granada and the next chapter begins! Nearly missed my plane, arrived after check-in, but an angel heard me and the plane was delayed three hours – magical country, this.I don't know if it's from all the praying done here, but there are certainly angels.

The Late Late News

It’s been a long, long time since I wrote here on this blog…eighteen months or more, even this post that I started in Bali three months ago is very late getting put up here. Fortunately Blogger, com waits patiently...

So many things have happened… a trip to Fiji for two months which deserves a whole book, but which will instead get barely a few words because it was so long ago now and so many other events have crowded it from my mind. Or maybe not – when I let my mind drift back there, the colours and sounds and above all, the people, are so vivid and real that I hardly need the photos that are hopefully safely ensconced on my external hard drive to bring them to you.

Everyone should go to Fiji – it has all the seductive elements of the south sea paradise we all long for! The sparkling seas that link over 300 islands, the smiling people and their lilting harmonies, the tropical fruits in abundance…But don’t go just after a cyclone like I did! Flattened coconut palms, absence of fresh fruit and veg, people suffering (but quietly, patiently, gently) the effects of having their gardens and livelihoods destroyed. It was major – I was so glad to be able to take some money collected from my generous friends and to be able to put it in the hands of people who really needed it. We met such amazingly lovely people! Brendan/Mook spent hours recording and editing the music of the little male bands who sing in exquisite harmonies, as well as one little nine-year-old angel who sang gospel and a church choir that brought tears to my eyes. All of these recordings we took to Suva where we spent 3 weeks trying to find a way to get them reliably and cheaply produced for sale. Despite some promising leads, nothing eventuated and we returned home to set up a “Fiji Aid” website to sell a compilation to raise funds for cyclone vicitims. That didn’t elicit much interest either, so now I am funding the church choir CD myself in an attempt to make something eventuate from the trip and to help the people of Kioa make some money for themselves.

Kioa! What a place, what a people! Kioa is a small island in Fiji bought by Polynesian people from Tuvalu after WW2, using US money they had earned during the war. Thinking ahead to the time when their small coral atolls could become overcrowded, a small contingent set off to populate a distant hilly islet in the midst of the Fijian cannibal culture. Unsurprisingly, they maintained their distance from the cannibals and kept their own culture strong and vibrant. We travelled by open boat to an idyllic scene, with handhewn canoes on the beach and stunningly beautiful Polynesian men and women dancing enthusiastically in their community hall, dressed and decorated in traditional style and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Magic! And such a gift to be there!

Though equally religious, despite the overwhelming presence of the Methodist church (bells to wake up at 5 and then again for evening prayers, church three times a week!) Kioa is far more egalitarian than the rest of Fiji. Men and women both serve on the local council and share decision-making – although the men, as ever, were the only musicians to play their local and traditional songs for us. We were there for Easter and were treated to an unreserved display of rant from the pulpit, interspersed with the most beautiful choir music I have ever heard. After the service, the choir assembled to do it all again for a recording.

I went back to Kioa by myself for a week and stayed with a new friend, Luisa and her family. Luisa took me to Savusavu to meet her mum Anna, a great lady who had been out at the height of the cyclone securing her boats - she is also the grand-daughter of a Samoan princess who came to Fiji with her English lover after her father chased him away from Samoa, bearing her first child on a small islet near Taveuni. Later, Brendan and I both went back to Savusavu to stay with Anna for a few days - she offered us space to build a house - what a dream that would be...

Well, that was a bit of the Fiji story! Photos yet to come…