Granada, Spain

Granada! Fantastic. Our consensus favorite place in Spain. Today we awoke at 7am to get in line for tickets to the Alhambra. Only 7000 tickets are sold each day, and they are all gone by 9am, so we didn't want to get shut out. The Alhambra served as the palace and stronghold of the Muslim leaders of Spain from the 1300's to 1492. In 1492 the Catholic Monarchs Isabel and Ferdiand finally defeated the Muslims, and ended their 700 year reign over Spain. As the last Muslim ruler Boabdil reined in his horse and surveyed the Alhambra for last time and the green valley that spread below he burst into tears. "You do well," said his unsympathetic mother, "to weep like a woman for what you could not defend like a man."
Gee thanks Mom.
The Alhambra is a huge place with high walls, stunning views, and magnificent gardens and fountains. We spent a half a day here exploring. We couldnt help but wonder why it is that the Muslim world seems to have accomplished more before 1500 than in the 500 years since? A large percentage of the beautiful architecture in Andalucia is Islamic built. The geometric art shown above is filled with color and intricate detail.

Here we are on a cliff overlooking the Alhambra. This spot is especially popular among the large hippie population of Granada. Just to our left, out of the picture, are a couple dozen shirtless people playing guitar, drinking bottled beer, smoking weed, selling beads and necklaces, and juggling.

The fountains and pools in the Alhambra were the high point for us. The Islamic use of water in their architecture is unparalelled. We decided we wanted to recreate this at our house. Now if we just had the mountain of gold and unlimited slave labor that Boabdil had....

Granada, Spain

Today was a short two hour drive through the beautiful rolling hills of the Andalucian countryside to Granada. We are loving Granada. It has a huge student population, which always gives a city energy and fun bars and shops. The tapas scene here is for real. Every bar serves you a delicious appetizer with every round of drinks. Up til now Ive been annoyed with the Spanish serving size of a standard beer (about 9 ounces). Ive had to request a "Cerveza Grande", (which gets me maybe 14 ounces). Today Lindso made the the discovery of the trip. No matter what size of drink you order you still get the free tapas. So economically, it makes more sense to order the cano (small beer) than the cerveza grande. More free food, for less money. Brilliant!

Everyone knows that mopeds are big in Europe. But most people wouldnt know that even the cops ride mopeds in Spain! I'm not sure how this fellow would go about chasing down a Ferarri, but he had no problem handing out a parking ticket on this occasion.

Ronda and Cordoba, Spain

Today we left Tarifa for a long drive through Andalucia via Ronda to Cordoba. I was excited to see Ronda after reading Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls". In his masterpiece about the Spanish civil war he tells a gruesome story about how the nationalists captured the republican held town of Ronda. They gathered all the republican collaborators in one house, then forced them one by one to walk through a gauntlet of their opressed townspeople who would beat them. At the end of the gauntlet they had the choice of jumping or being thrown off this bridge to fall some 400 feet to their death.
Just looking over the side of this bridge was enough to give me the willies knowing that several people had actually been thrown off it.

Ronda is a very cute little town, and we enjoyed a short stop here

On to Cordoba. Above is La Mezquita which is considered the pre-eminent islamic building anywhere outside of the Middle East. It was built in 784, and it is remarkable how well preserved it is.

While we did enjoy visiting the interior, we were not overwhelmed by it as we were by many other buildings in Spain. It is dark inside, and there are catholic naves all around the walls of the complex, with a Catholic mass being held the Sunday morning we were there.

On the whole, we didn't think too much of Cordoba. It struck us as being the "New Jersey Guido" version of Spain. Lots of trashily dressed people yelling in the main square while garbage fluttered in the breeze.

Tangier, Morocco and Tarifa, Spain

Today we made a short drive from Seville heading south to the wind-surfing capitol of Spain, Tarifa. Tarifa is the southernmost tip of Spain, and it marks the mouth of the mediterranean, where it opens to the Atlantic. Just a few miles across the strait lies Morocco and the continent of Africa. I couldnt pass up a chance to add not only another country to my list, but also a new continent, so we boarded the fast ferry to Tangier Morocco. Arriving at noon, we had a full five hours to explore Tangier. We soon realized that we had budgeted about 4 hours too many for our visit. I've heard great things about Morocco, and I'm sure that Marrakech and the Atlas mountains are great, but Tangier doesnt have too much to offer the day tourist. Once we fended off the agressive touts at the port, we made our way to the Medina on foot. I felt safe here, though Lindsey was understandably put off by the agressive marketing strategies of the shop owners, and the unabashed stares of the Moroccan men. Having visited Turkey before, I knew to expect this, and actually it was more low pressure than Istanbul. Tangier is however much dirtier and poorer than cosmopolitan Istanbul. We found little of interest to buy in the stores, and no food that tempted us. Lindsey, being the only un-headscarved Anglo woman in the city, was defenitely the object of attention, and soon we had had enough of walking around. We spent over two hours ensconced in the safety of a tourist class cafe that was devoid of locals due to the prohibitive cost of a $1 cup of coffee or soda. I was looking forward to having a beer after the stress of the Medina, but this being an Islamic country, there was no bud light on the menu.

After a chaotic scene at the port where several "helpers" sent us in different directions in hopes of a tip; we finally got on board our ferry, and were thrilled to be heading back to a First World country.

We had a great evening in Tarifa. We had read that it is considered the "Hawaii of Spain". While it's beaches and scenery can't hold a candle to Maui, the preponderance of surf shops and young, tanned, athletic people did make us feel at home. We had a fun night on the town and appreciated Spain all the more after seeing the other side of the Med.

Seville, Spain

Above is Seville's famous Cathedral, the largest of all Roman Catholic Cathedrals in the world. Construction was begun in 1402 on top of the remnants of the Almohad Mosque. It holds the tomb of Christopher Columbus.

The Alcazar of Seville was built beginning in 1364. We enjoyed the audio tour of this World Heritage Sight.

The "Courtyard of the Maidens" is another example of the Moorish influence on the use of water in architecture and design.

Seville, Spain

We arrived in the afternoon in Seville, our most anticipated stop on the trip. Today Mapquest was omnipotent. We followed every turn in the directions to get precisely to our hotel, which is a minor miracle in a country with one way cobblestone streets and a complete lack of street signs. We waled to the main square of Seville and instantly knew we liked the place. The cathedral is enormous, the larget in Spain, and the nearby Alcazar towers over the square. We attended a free flamenco performance at an underground beer hall called La Carbonera. We arrived at 10 to find the place nearly empty, when the performance was supposed to start at 10. Well, the beer was cheap at $2, so we gave it a go. By 11 it had filled to standing room only. By 1130 the performance began, and wow, were we in for a show! We thought it would be like seeing a band perform, but flamenco is more a work of art. The performers demanded complete silence from the audience. Then the male guitarist commenced strumming and wailing in a strange islamic/spanish/gypsy style. After a few minutes of this, the rythmic clapping joined in, and then the female dancer began a mezmerizing dance of foot stomping, clapping, arm waving, all the while with an unsmiling glare of dead seriousness. When they finished the audience exploded in cheers.

The great flamenco, the cheap beer, and meeting several other americans on vacation or in school in Seville, conspired for a late night which ended with Lindso banging on the glass door of our hotel which resulted in a torrent of admonition from the septuganarian innkeeper. Good times!

Salamanca, Portugal, and Ciudad Rodrigo

We left Avila and headed west to the university town of Salamanca. Salamanca is considered one of the most spectacular Renaissance cities in Europe. Through the centuries the sandstone buildings have gained an exquisite golden glow that has given Salamanca the nickname La Ciudad Dorada, the golden city. This golden glow is unique in Spain and is due to the "Villamayor Stone", a very special type of sandstone coming from a quarry situated in Villamayor, a village close to Salamanca.
The old Romanesque cathedral was founded in the 12th century. The nearby University was founded in 1218. Currently 36,000 students attend what has to be one of the most historic campuses on earth. I had to get a Salamanca U. t-shirt.

After Salamanca we pressed on further West until at last we crossed the border into Portugal. What did we see in Portugal? Oh...ummm...nothing actually. We spent 15 minutes in the border town of Vilar Formoso, snapped this photo at the quaint train station, then back into Espana. Yes, my quest to travel to every country in the world leads us to silly excursions, but the border was so close, I couldnt pass it by. I'm sure Portugal is lovely, and I certainly plan to give it my full attention on a future trip.

After spinning thru Portugal, we backtracked to the tiny Spanish village of Ciudad Rodrigo. Here I had a surprise for Lindso. I had booked us a room in a small castle dating back to 1372.

Rodrigo was a quiet walled town, population 14,000, surrounded by farmland and topped by our castle with sweeping views of the valley and an ancient roman bridge. We had a very quiet evening here, drinking in the castle's dungeon-like pub complete with a suit of armor in the place of a bouncer.

Segovia and Avila, Spain

We left Madrid today finally after getting caught in ring-highway hell for well over an hour. Did I mention that Madrid is a HUGE city? Well, somehow we made it onto the correct highway and my blood pressure finally settled down, and we were off toward the snowcapped mountains of Castilla y Leon. As a castlephile, I was excited to see Segovia's castle, which was the model for Disneyland's castle. Upon seeing it we were disappointed to find it appearing as fake as Disneyland itself. It's very pretty, but it is clear that it is a modern (1892) reproduction, rather than an historic castle.

However, we were not disappointed by Segovia's fantastic Roman aqueduct. It was built at the end of 1st to early 3rd century BC by the Romans during their occupation of the Iberian Peninsula to bring water from the Frio River (about 18 km away) to the city, requiring an elevated section in its last 1 kilometer (0.6 mi) from the Sierra de Guadarrama to the walls of the old town. This elevated section, largely dominating the nearby scene, is supported by an engineering marvel of 166 arches and 17 pillars in two levels. It is made of 400 large, rough-hewn granite blocks, joined without mortar or clamps. Its maximum height of 100 ft is found at the plaza of Azoguejo.

Segovia had a cute old town, and we were psyched to see our first smaller Spanish town. On to Avila.

We arrived in Avila astounded by the perfectly preserved, tall city walls that completely surrounded the old town. Wow, now this is the medieval Spain that I had been dreaming about!
We checked into our charming little hostal, which was inside the walls for only $52 a night, and then took to climbing up to the city walls. For a few dollars you can walk along the 11th century walls and peer into the valley below. Later we found a nice bodega (wine bar) where we got our first taste of the tapas scene.

Madrid, Spain

We started our 2007 vacation for real when we flew from London into Madrid, the capitol of Spain, and a massive city of 3.2 million. We rode the metro into the city center and walked for hours throughout the city. Above is the Plaza Mayor; the scene of multitudinous events: markets, bullfights, soccer games, public executions, and, during the Spanish Inquistion, "autos de fe" against supposed heretics and the executions of those condemned to death.

We spent quite a bit of time exploring The Palacio Real, the largest palace in Western Europe. The top picture is me hiding in one of the gardens while Lindso is trying to take an artistic picture.

We didnt find too much exciting Madrid nightlife, which apparently doesnt start until after we usuually go to sleep. We did find a nice small restuarant to relax in. On the way home, the real fun began. We had to take the metro back to our hotel, which was as far from the city center as one could go on the metro line. Usually I plan all our metro connections and Lindso just follows along. This year she decided to learn how to read a metro map and plan our journey for herself. Just then a train pulls up and Lindso announces that this is our train and she walks over and gets on it. I thought I would be a smart-ass and pretend that it was not the right train (it was) and not get on until the last second. I timed it a little too late. The doors shut and Lindso was gone and I was left behind. Not a bid deal for me, I knew how to get home and could just catch the next one in 10 minutes. However, I had no idea if Lindso really knew how to get back to our hotel. If she didn't, we were in deep trouble, because there is no way she was going to just happen upon it in a city of three million, and we had no cell phones.

I hoped she would get off at the next stop and let me catch up. She didn't. She had hoped I would stay put, and she caught a train back to where she left me. I had already gone. Now, both of us figured we just needed to get back to the hotel, and hope the other one could do the same. After 30-40 minutes I arrived at our hotel to find no Lindso. I told the desk clerk our situation and asked her to make Lindso stay at the hotel should she arrive, and then I went out to wander the streets of Madrid looking for her. It was a good 10 minute walk from our hotel to the metro station, so I could at least wait for her at that station. Thankfully, she was only a few minutes behind me and we met in the street just outside the hotel! We no longer mess around with getting seperated on international transportation.

Lucaya, Bahamas

My parents and I met up in Freeport, Bahamas. Freeport is a city on the island of Grand Bahama, located approximately 100 mi east-northeast of Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Freeport proper has 26,910 people. We visited the International Bazaar near downtown Freeport but spent most of our time at the Port Lucaya Market Place in Lucaya. The weather was unseasonably chilly the weekend that we were there, certainly not beach weather.

We went for a walk along this beach near our hotel. It had beautiful white powdery sand, much different than the grainy thick brown sand of Maui. All the beachfront activities were closed due to the 60 degree weather.

Being a former British Colony, Bahamanians speak English, and drive on the left.

Lucaya is a prototypical tourist trap. Lots of stuff for sale. Nevertheless it was a fun getaway with the folks. We had great Greek food and Bahamian beer. We jumped in the hotel hot tub. We took a tour of run-down Freeport town. It was neat to be in a foreign culture, just an hour plane flight from the US.

Santorini, Greece

Next, Dan and I took the ferry to Santorini island, population of 13,600. Santorini is essentially what has been left from an enormous volcanic explosion in 1500 BC which destroyed the settlements thereon and led to the creation of the current geological caldera. Its spectacular natural beauty along with its eminent nightlife make the island one of Europe's top tourist hotspots.

I consider myself a decent amateur photographer with no real skills other than knowing what angles and in what light to shoot things. The unbelievable color of the ocean and the whitewashed buildings in Santorini will make anyone look like a star photographer. The two pictures above are probably my favorites of anything I've taken.

This is me at Oia about 30 seconds after sunset. The cliffs behind me afre nearly 1000 feet high! We stayed in Fira, the main town, and as in Mykonos, traveled around via moped. We rode all over the island, and hit the great red sand beach on the far side. We also watched the USA versus Italy World Cup match here. It was fun to be in Europe during the World Cup. Every TV in the whole continent has the game on, and you can almost hear the game continuously as you walk from store to restuarant to bar. There were some seriously dejected Brazilians in the streets the night they lost.

Mykonos, Greece

Dan and I took the train from Athens to the port city of Piraeus, and boarded a huge ferry bound for Mykonos. We stopped off at a couple of other islands on the way, and they all looked great, and we were psyched to get to Mykonos. We would not be disappointed. Mykonos is a lot of fun. We rented mopeds and rode all over the little island, racing each other on blind turns, and generally being idiots. After the huge crowds of Athens, this place was like a big playground. We found that there are only three colors that people paint buildings. All are whitewashed on the sides. Some houses have azure roofs, and churches have red roofs. The white buildings against the black volcanic rock and the crystal blue mediterranean water is quite a sight. We saw lots of sheep, goats and mules. As we zipped from beach to beach, we interrupted at least on couple of nude sunbathers.

Dan on his bad-ass scooter that hauled us up the hills.

The first day we went to Paradise Beach. This place was unlike any beach I've ever been to. In the US, we like our beaches to be quiet and idyllic. Perhaps there are some kids yelling and playing in the surf, but may people will just read a book, or try to sleep in the sun. Not so at Paradise Beach. This place had not one, but two, dance clubs absolutely blasting techno all day and night. Dan and I had to shout to hear each other from five feet apart. We quickly gave in and ordered some crummy Mythos beers. Around 6pm, the sunbathers abandoned the setting sun, and moved from the umbrellas back to the techno club. One bar had clearly overpowered the other by sheer decibels, and so we bellied up at the bar of Paradise Club. The club was giving free shots to any girls who would get up and dance on the bar, and there were plenty of takers. We tipped the bartender well enough that he started giving us all his "mistakes". The MC was a skinny Greek guy wearing nothing but a thong with an elephant face on the front. He cavorted around the bar like some sort of cross between Pee Wee Herman and Zoolander. We named him Elephant Boy. Occasionally he would shout out to the different nationalities at the bar "Australia, let me hear you?" And the Aussies would scream. "Italia, where are you?" More Italian screaming. Finally Elephant Boy attempted, 'USA, are you here?" Dan and I gave a small yell. No other Americans were in attendance. Other people laughed.

Finally at 9pm, we needed to get some dinner, and left Paradise Beach to ride the scooters back into town. Only mine would not start. We had no choice but to double up on Dan's moped and ride Dumb-and-Dumber style up some really steep hills back to town. We laughed so hard I thought I might wet my pants just like in the movie. We were lucky to arrive alive.

Mykonos is the best!

Athens, Greece

From Istanbul I flew directly to Athens, Greece, the birthplace of democracy. I was really excited to get to Athens, possibly more so than any other destination I've ever been to. The sight of the Acropolis is recognizable to the majority of people on earth, and is an amazingly well preserved relic of ancient history. I arrived in Athens a few hours before my friend Dan, who was meeting up with me here for a week of travel together. I took Athens sparkling new metro from the airport to my hotel. When I exited the metro, there it was, looming above just a few blocks away, the Acropolis! It was all I could do to restrain myself from running up to it and exploring every inch immediately, I knew Dan would want to do the same in a few hours.
Athens is a huge city of 3.8 million, and much of the city is just packed apartments, honking car horns, the mosquito buzz of mopeds, and grey-brown smog. Yet rising above all that, 512 feet above sea level, is the shining whiteness of 2500 years of history, visible from anywhere in the city.

The Parthenon was completed in 431 BC, making it 2437 years old at the time of my visit. It has had an interesting history over the years; the Parthenon replaced an older temple of Athena, called the Pre-Parthenon or Older Parthenon, that was destroyed in the Persian invasion of 480 BC. Like most Greek temples, the Parthenon was used as a treasury. In the 6th century AD, the Parthenon was converted into a Christian church dedicated to the Virgin. After the Ottoman conquest, it was converted into a mosque in the early 1460s. On September 28, 1687, an Ottoman ammunition dump inside the building was ignited by Venetian bombardment. The resulting explosion severely damaged the Parthenon and its sculptures.

The ladies pictured above are descendants of that Ottoman Empire. They were here on a tour from Istanbul. I was wearing my newly purchased "Turkey" shirt, which was a foolish gaffe on my part. Turkey and Greece have chilly relations. They currently have divided the island of Cyprus between them, and a wall and soldiers separate the two cultures. Wearing a "Turkey" shirt to the Acropolis is the equivalent of wearing a Red Sox jersey in Yankee stadium, or perhaps a "Viva Fidel!" shirt at the Republican National Convention. I should have known better. In this case it turned out OK. I was besieged by a group of middle-aged Turkish ladies who were thrilled to see a strange American wearing their country's colors. They wanted pictures with me, and they tried to convince me to get on their tour bus with them, the lady with the big white hat even promising me that I would like her daughter back in Istanbul.

Above is the "Porch of Maidens" on the Erechtheum, built in 407BC. The statues on this temple are the best preserved on the Acropolis.

The Temple of Hephaestus, in central ancient Athens, Greece, is the best-preserved ancient Greek temple in the world, but is far less well-known than its illustrious neighbour, the Parthenon. It was built in 449 BC on a site with a commanding view of the Athenian Agora.
We found a tortoise basking in the sun between 2400 year old marble columns. Athens has small pockets of ruins all over the city. One can walk around, turn a corner, and bump into huge arches and columns at any moment.

When we tired from looking at marble, we headed to the Plaka for dinner. The Plaka has hundreds of restaurants with outdoor seating, great for people watching, listening to the street performers, and for being hassled every 6 minutes by some child selling some worthless object in mass quantities. When we were there the item of choice was a set of magnetic balls that make an annoying clicking sound when clasped together. There were literally a hundred street urchins hawking these things that any parent would take away from their child within the first hour. Still, we enjoyed Athens; very walkable, safe and clean. The sight of the Parthenon lit by floodlights at night was just amazing.