Life: Idiotropic

We stayed in a small German village for Karneval in an old house on the main road.  Gillrath was celebrating with its first parade in 30 years. 

The street was lined on both sides with locals of all ages almost entirely in costume.  Even onlookers dress up here, so we dressed up as well.  I wore my favorite pink wig and a 70’s style satin dress.  My husband was a pirate.

Cold in February, we kept our front door closed, but had hot chocolate ready and our front window unlocked leading to the dining room.  Only two feet from the sidewalk it opened inward like a door.  People hopped in and out getting cocoa and using our bathroom, friends and perfect strangers too.

The parade began with a big green John Deere tractor loaded up with confetti and balloons. Groups followed wearing matching costumes.  A cooking group handed out Vienna sausages on toothpicks.  One chef gave our elderly neighbor a head of cabbage.  Everybody laughed.

Kids held umbrellas upside down to catch the candy thrown our way.  One was pelted with a boxed smoothie drink.  I watched for the adults holding small plastic shot glasses in one hand and a bottle tucked under one arm.  It was common to see people passing out candy to kids and booze to adults.

A large chicken came up with something caramel colored.  There was no label, but I got a shot from a chicken.  It tasted like Bailey’s.

Thanksgiving will return to boxes this week while we haul out just a bit of Christmas.  Here's our first bit... a card that will be mailed to mailboxes around the world as soon as it reaches mine.  :)

Enjoy the entire holiday season with all the tradition and beauty it holds.

T






Card design by Shutterfly.  Love their holiday templates!  Too fun!

I am thankful for two coffee dates today including one with my husband who isn't usually available on the weekdays, an entire afternoon free to cook and organize, a tomorrow filled with pie baking because we'll be celebrating with too many friends on Saturday who I am also very thankful for.

I am thankful for 10 days with my dad and Angie with food and day trips to fill our time,  9 days with a dear friend from Germany who I wish could have stayed for Saturday's feast, and thousands of pictures taken over those 19 days of visits that I hope to one day cull through and post just one or two and possibly even blog a big...

But... though time isn't abundant, friends are.  And food.  And the ability to share the latter with the former.

I am thankful for a housekeeper who is also my friend who will come early on Saturday "so I can sit and rest a little" even though we all know that is nearly impossible for me to do because I am me and I don't sit well unless I'm surrounded by friends and have a mug of coffee in my hand.

I'm thankful for a kitchen full of delicious smells and a dishwasher full of clean dishes, clean counters and full refrigerators, and a dog who will help clean up the "oops" that's bound to happen.


Thankful for the gift of words and fingers able to type them.  My family.  My friends.  My crazy dog.  My imbecilic cat.  My pillow.  'night.

Just south of Valencia lies Europe's largest freshwater lake, or at least it used to be.  I'm not sure if that claim by locals is figured off of the current lake size or what it used to be before much of it's circumference became home to the rice paddies that grow the regions paella rice.  Which ever the case may be, it's still an impressive lake and a different kind of way to spend your day while visiting Valencia.

Only 15 minutes from the city, it's an easy escape from the crowds and the noise.  The only crowds you'll see here are the birds.


I've been here before with the aid of my handy dandy GPS, but a wrong turn and a missed turn led me to the other side of the lake where there are no access points except by small fishing boat navigating the tiny canals and rice paddies.

My impeccable sense of direction led me in the right direction (of course), towards the lake through a maze of narrow dirt roads raised above the flooded rice paddies below.  The only problem with my sense of direction is that while we were absolutely going the right way to get to the lake, I didn't realize then that there was no way to actually connect to a main road or access the lake from that point.  So, with an empty tank of gas and fumes pulling us along, we really did enjoy a magical drive through the paddies enjoying the reflections of the traditional white triangular homes in the water and the dance of the great blue heron as they startled one by one and crossed in front of my van in flight to another paddy opposite.

I found myself at two dead-ends today, one forcing me to back track and the other causing an amusing "off road" moment when my van went Rambo and powered over a little hill between roads.  This mini adventure in route to our final destination taught me two things.  1) Getting lost in the rice paddies is a great idea, but only 2) if you are not out of gas.  Thankfully, I didn't have to learn the latter the hard way.


El Palmar is a tiny fishing village with rice paddies in one direction, the lake in another, and a wide canal on the other that leads to the sea just a couple kilometers away.  It was once filled with these quaint little homes called barracas.  Now just a few exist among the fields of rice and along the edges of the lake.




The only way to see the lake is by boat as there are no paths around it to walk.  A typical 45 minute boat ride will cost about 10 Euros/person.  We arrived in El Palmar and parked by a sign advertising "paseo en barca."  The gate was open, but we didn't see anyone, so we cautiously walked down the long narrow path from the street to the edge of the water looking around for any sign of someone working there.  As we arrived, so did the boat that belonged there.  The middle-aged man invited us on as a group of college aged girls got off and we began our tour of the lake making our way through lanes flanked by tall reeds and bamboo with birds nesting along the edges.  The heron here took off as they saw our boat giving us ample photo ops of birds in flight.




Though this is Europe's largest fresh water lake, it is certainly not the deepest.  At the deepest point, according to our guide, it's only a couple meters deep, but that is deep enough for the fish that live there.  Along the sides of the lake strung up on rows of posts lie these tubular nets made especially for catching sleek, black freshwater eels that are popular here.  Called anguilas,  you can find them at all the local restaurants and sold alive at local markets.

One of the small islands is marked off as a nature reserve providing homes to thousands of birds who apparently can read the signs because they are thicker there than anywhere else.  It's a great place to park the boat just on the edge and watch fuzzy headed ducks and other fowl with binoculars and a telephoto lens., but my favorite place is the quite among the reeds.  This is where our guide was quiet as well, just steering the boat and listening to the gentle hum of the motor and the distant call of birds.  The reeds rustled in the wind and we watched for the heron who are quickly becoming my favorite bird.




Puntillas are tiny whole squid battered and fried.  It may sound strange, but they are delicious and the batter covers them up enough that you aren't overly aware of each little hood and tentacle.  With or without lemon juice, these are my favorite local fish snack and would be a great movie snack - like popcorn shrimp. 

















A fishing village, if you're not catching the fish or cooking the fish, you're making nets or repairing boats.  El Palmar has character and is a beautiful place to spend the day and enjoy some quiet.  I think next time I'll bring the girls and may be even bring a paella on the boat with us for a lunch out on the lake!

Along much of Spain's coastline lie a chain of mountains enabling those living in one to enjoy the other.  As in Granada where you can ski all day, then dine on the beach, here in Valencia, you can do the same with ski resorts just one hour away in the Teruel Province of Aragon.

Knowing this, I should know that the climate is a wee bit different, but of course, I forgot and though it warmed eventually, I was met by a shocking cold when I first got to Teruel today.

This was a day trip to see this town famous for it's lovers which I hadn't seen before.  It also contains two beautiful churches and a collection of Mudejar (Moorish style) towers sprinkled throughout the town which you can climb for a small fee.

Known for it's ham and pottery as well, I was able to see the latter and enjoyed a walk around the town with a friend poking my head into little shops, walking up one tower, and seeing the main cathedral.  Sadly, we missed three attractions in town which happen to be all grouped together in one area with one entrance and one ticket.  These all close at 1:30 which is ridiculously early even by Spanish standards and extremely irritating for me.

So, with that all closed and time to kill, I thought I'd go taste some of this ham that Teruel is so famous for, but all the little restaurants and cafes that were open earlier were now closed, which doesn't make a bit of sense, but then again, this is Spain and I've learned to accept the quirks.  We walked instead to the steps near the train station where a nice carving of the lovers adorns the wall and the teenagers at the school below stand around smoking.  Lovely.

I would share this all with you now, but in my flurry of activity these days trying to upload photos and make space on my computer for more, I ended up only partially downloading my photos and then deleting the rest.  Sad.  I guess this just means I have to go back...

It is, after all, the capital of the Teruel province and a city that has beautiful architecture and an interesting history along with it's famous legend of the two lover's, the Romeo and Juliet story of childhood lover's torn apart by families and ill-timing whose mummied bodies were exhumed and buried side by side so that they could at least be together in death.

Instead of lunch, we munched on old triscuits on the hour drive home, then stuffed ourselves on leftover chicken and home made spaetzle from the night before.

Along with these photos, I did leave with one other souvenir, a beautiful piece of white and green pottery that is typical of this region.  I bought it from the artists wife and was able to meet and photograph the artist himself when I came back to pick up my vase later.  Sadly, this photo was one that was lost along with others of his magnificent little shop with the tiled floor.

Sunny Sundays are for lazy mornings, slow starts, and striking sunsets.  They are for a plan without a timeline.  It's a good thing.  So often my early morning push brings me home too early to see the evening lighting in the places I visit.  Our late start, coupled with the earlier sunset blessed us with a spectacular evening in Peñíscola.  I should sleep in more often.

I've hoped to return here ever since I left it the first time, but time is the all elusive with so many things to see and repeats are a luxury, so I had to wait until now when the sand is moist and doesn't squeak like it did before.


A strange view today.  We'd just missed two days of extreme biking events that took over the tiny streets of the old town and the hill getting to it.  Wooden ramps covered stairs and tires blocked poles and sharp corners making it a bit difficult just to get to the top of the hill where the castle stands.  Today we'd go in the castle.  Children up to age 12 are free.  Adults cost 3.50 which includes a souvenir post card.

Most of the castle rooms are sparsely furnished if at all, but they are good about putting up informative plaques on the walls in Spanish, Valenciano, German, and English so that you know a bit about where you're standing.  It's quite impressive actually.

It's hard to know when the original castle was built or what it must of looked like because of so many changes that have happened over the centuries.  King James the First rebuilt it after the conquest in 1234.  Since then, it's been the witness and catalyst of an incredible history here in this little town.  Declared the third papal see by Pope Pedro Luna who ended his life there, it was also the headquarters of King James himself, and the Order of the Templars from 1294.

This is one of two doorways built as part of the new facade between 1294 and 1307.  The other was destroyed during the Independence War.




The self-guided tour allows you to relax and even picnic in the many open spaces within the castle walls.  The roof itself is even spectacular with stairs leading all the way to the top.  So spectacular that my 9-year old reached the top first and exclaimed, "Holy Cow!"  The next one arrived at the top of the stairs and exclaimed the same thing.  Now it was a game.  Elise, the youngest, arrived last and we all waited for what we thought must come next.  She looked from side to side and exclaimed quite loudly, "Holy Duck!"


The forecast storm passed north of us both saving us from a good soaking and giving us a view of the streaks of grey in the distance and a rainbow that painted the entire village beneath it in stripes.

This is one of those seasonally touristy towns that serves up the most horrid food on earth for abominable prices and people smile though it because either the view is nice or they really think paella should taste that way.  It's pretty sad.  There are a couple good restaurants, but this is definitely a place to ask a local.  I've eaten average here and I wasn't going to eat average again.  In fact, we were heading back for dinner, but the kids were hungry, so we thought we'd stop at a local bar for a snack.  Blech.  Worst bar experience ever.  We ordered three items.  Two came and were barely palatable. The third was not what we'd ordered - at all.  And I'd spoken in both Spanish, English, and pointed to the picture.  The waiter was not apologetic nor sympathetic despite the big-eyed starving look from my 6-year old.  He explained that they were out of the baguettes and brought it on a croissant instead.  "But it's not even tuna!  We ordered tuna."  He looked confused.  I picked up the top crunchy overtoasted croissant and showed him the serrano ham and anemic tomatoes underneath.  He said he'd go get a tuna sandwich.  It never came.  No apologies. I went to pay.  They charged me for everything.  These are the stupid people that give places and countries a bad reputation.

The moon assuaged our post bar funk.


A full moon lingers briefly above the edge of the castle wall 
that Jaime built long ago after the Moorish fall.
Where Papa Luna spent his days and nights
and the Templars staged their fights.
The wars called just and holy though by means hardly so.
It was long ago.  
And now I must leave too soon.
A walk along the beach shooting the moon.
Digging my toes into the sand that's seen it all.

When faced with an exquisite piece of architecture, there are really two options for the photo junky like me.  A) To take a photo of the building alone or B) to take a photo with a person in it.  Intriguing architecture is creatively inspiring and fun.  It makes us think and dream and play with shapes and patters and perspective.  These Calatrava's that make up Valencia's City of Arts and Sciences do just that.  They evoke the imagination.  They provoke thoughtful conversations.  They entice the photographer in all of us.

And that, my friends, can be the problem.

Exhibit A:  Valencia's Palau de Musica as the backdrop for some ballerina attitude.  Macaira is a professional ballerina traveling here.  She thought this building would make a fantastic background.  I tend to agree.  This is a good example of where to pose and perhaps, how.

  
Exhibit B:  Yikes.  What is it with the bad wedding shoots this week?  Unless that guy is some serious palentologist, this is a major fail.  Love the dinos, but having wedding shots done in front of a giant mass of B-movie rubber that jiggles profusely as he moves his neck from side to side and roars with the sound quality of grandpa's old LP is not what screams romance and beauty.  Nor love.  Angle it down a bit.  Yes!  Now the dino looks like he's eating the bride.  Perfect!  Photoshop in some gore and you really have something to remember your special day.

Great location.  Great architecture.  Just another spot, may be?  Please.

Open Doors.  It's a little like an open house.  It's a lot like a fish bowl.

In past schools this type of event would be interactive with your child.  In this one, they are fish and you just watch them swim.  It's a bit odd.

We arrive on time.  The kids are all sitting quietly listening to a lesson on shapes.  The teacher is speaking painfully slow.  I realize later that it's to help the children who don't yet speak English well.  I also realized that the British pronounce the "gon" at the end of their shapes like I pronounce the "gon" in my home state of Oregon - more like "g-in" instead of "gone."

Parents arrived in the dim room and lined the walls and stood.  That was it.  They stood and talked and watched their children "make a shape person" quietly by themselves at their tables.  Parents took time off of work for this. 

After we went to the playground to stand around and talk and watch the kids play.  Now I know why Elise comes home so filthy.  The entire playground is covered in a thin layer of fine taupe-colored powder. 

Seems this is more an opportunity for the parents to network than it is a time to be involved with the kids.  Networking can be good though. I talked with a mom who's father had a home by the Ayuntamiento.  We've been invited to watch a Falla mascleta from it in March!

On the list of things to take visitors to is the old Carthaginian city of Arse, now known as Saguntum on top of the hill overlooking Sagunto just 10 minutes from our house by car.

This week I have a visitor thus, to Arse we go!

Fortunately, instead of dying from complete boredom, I am able to find new things each time I go.  It's also fun to see what my guests notice.  My friend Julie notice (and squatted playfully by) the old toilets.  Today's friend likes the prickly pears so much, I think it would be great to pick one.  Not smart.  They're really a lot more prickly than they look!

 Today I discovered three new things:

1) This view.  I usually take the shortcut up the hill and don't bother with the road.  Today we took the road.  A nice walk, a different perspective and this view where I can actually sort of fit the entire "old" Roman theater in my camera view with part of the camera and the sea too.  It's nice.  They have concerts here.  I'd like to go to one some day.





2)  There's a long rectangular building of no particular interest along the long stretch of path between one part of the city and the other.  It's been there, but I've never cared to go inside.  Today I did.  Apparently here in this not-horribly-publicized place there resides the largest collection of epigraphs in the Iberian peninsula.  It's pretty impressive with many column heads and engraved stones from the first century A.D. and even a few B.C. stones as well. 

See this one?  This is the top of a column.  You can see the tiny cut marks where it was carved into the coil.

3) A cute cafe.  La Taverna de la Serp is a tiny little bar/cafe just below the theater where we stopped to have a cafe con leche and a small snack.  They serve tapenades here of various types with bread.  We had one of olives that was absolutely delicious and one with bacalao and potatoe that was good, but didn't quite have the kick that I hoped for.  I ordered from my table to the man behind the bar, the only one in the tiny cafe at the time.  "Dos cafes con leche y..."  The man behind the counter looked at me and asked in Spanish, "Do you want the coffees after your meal or now?"  "Now."  Again, I get the inquisitive look like I surely must be mad.  It's just one of those things.  Americans, I tell him, will drink coffee at any time of day and with just about any food.  Yes, I know it's strange, but we just really like our coffee.  So he brought them and they were good and I've now discovered a nice little place in Segunto to go for a bit of something.  The service is inquisitive, but nonjudgmental and quite friendly.

Ahhh.  Now this is Christmas.  Like candy cane to the USA or a Printen to Aacheners, these turrones bring Christmas home for the Spanish.  They come in all flavors and varieties with each region having their speciality, but no matter what the flavor, locals love them and buy them in slices to take home and share. 
Turron de Alicante is a sweet white crunchy nougat full of almonds.  You'll also find loafs of nut filled chocolate, mazapan, and yema, Spain's answer to egg liqueur.

And in grosser subjects.  Isn't is lovely how the Spanish don't waste anything?  Yes, it's a good thing.  Or at least that's how I'll choose to think about it. 


The fish market isn't quite as disturbing except that several are still quite alive which always makes me feel a little sad for then sitting there on ice out of water.  The fishmongers were at their grouchiest today now putting up signs at several stalls that prohibit photography.  As if a photo will disturb either their business or the flavor of the fish.  Hmph.

Today it rained.  I tell you this because it was the first rain in a month and my feet were ill prepared (in $2.50 Old Navy flip flops).  Couple that with the sad fact that most of Valencia's sidewalks are large squares of slick marble and I was practicing my ice skating skills all over the city much to my fright and embarrassment.  


Our next stop was just a slide away across the street:  La Lonja.

This magestic building that is free to enter is the place where the silk traders met to, well, trade silk.  I've been here a few times.  Didn't bother to take photos until we got to the upper room which I don't always go in.  I'd forgotten how beautiful it was.  The ceiling is all wooden, intricately carved and painted, and made us stop and stare long enough for my feet to dry.



I'd love the know the stories of the characters here.  Both men and creatures mythical and real are depicted here.   The sheer number of different faces is amazing.  There are no repeats.



Ahhh.  This is a taza de chocolate unlike any that I've ever tasted in Spain or out of Spain for that matter.  After living here over a year, I have finally found the best, and rightly so, at the well known Spanish chocolatier, Valor.  Here the chocolate is dark and rich and smooth with added flavors if you want that aren't overpowering, but aren't so subtle you can only smell them.  It is heaven in a cup.  The latte by its side was just about perfect and to go with all this was the perfect order of churros, not greasy like those of street vendors at Fallas, but tender, sweet, and delicious.  The chocolate clung to them just right and we walked away, no I skated away, quite content with my chocolate lunch.

So it's raining.  Not hard, but enough to wet the slick streets making them slicker.  Enough to tread lightly and with great trepidation.  Enough to send us to the shopping district.  What else are two girls to do with time to kill and a need to stay dry?

And I made my friends proud.  I went local.  I walked straight into the store of all stores in Spain, El Corte Ingles, and found a beautiful sleek pair of high healed dress boots and I bought them.  Of course, I had to leave them there, run down 4 floors to buy a pair of socks, then run back up to buy them and put them on straight away so that I could jog to the train station, but it was totally worth it.  I now am the proud new owner of "big girl shoes."  No more rainy day flip flops for me!  ;)