Italy and Spain, The Rest Filled In . . .

Tom lost the remainder of his blog entry and some heart in an internet café in the medina of Marrakech (ooh, and the last plane out of Sydney has almost gone). So I have volunteered to put down the camera and take up the keyboard, and continue an account of our travels in Italy and Barcelona.

So we left Florence by train on 25 January, stopping over in Pisa for a few hours to check out the (now soundly) leaning tower. The costs of repairs to the tower made the price of tickets to climb it beyond the reach of budget travellers. So we paid our respects the architects by frequenting an amazing patisserie specialising in chocolate on the main avenue of Pisa city.

We arrived that night at Manarola in the Cinque Terre (the five lands), just west of La Spezia in Liguria. What a place! One of 5 small fishing villages (now with a tourist bent) located dramatically on the cliffs above the Ligurian Sea. We stayed in Manarola for 3 days, walking between it and the other 4 villages that make up the 12 km stretch, Riomaggiore, Corniglia, Vernazza and Monterosso. We had an amazing apartment (La Casa del Pescatore, Via A. Rollando 137, Manarola 19010 Cinque Terre 137 ph 34 70082979) with our own kitchen, stereo and CD collection, hot showers, washing machine and magazines! Items of bliss for two homeless travellers and the source of much enjoyment for us in Manarola. After the fast pace, smart shops and snappy dressers of Firenze, correction Florence, we were pleased to be in a place where life seemed a bit more real and life was not about promenading and shopping. (I think that the portion of the blog where Tom had explained the Barrie Humphries correction joke is still lost in the medina. Let me explain that we enjoyed reminding ourselves, when in Florence, of Humphries’ remark that he has been in “Firenze, correction Florence” for the holidays. It takes little things to amuse us when on holidays too.)

Our host in Manarola, Eduardo told us that he lived to fish and the décor in our apartment reflected his obsession. After looking around for a bit, we could understand wanting to sit on the cliffs, or in a boat just below the cliffs, and dropping a line in. On the Thursday we walked from Monterosso (known for its anchovies and the farthest village from us in Manarola), back to Manarola, via Vernazza and Corniglia (known for its schiacchetra, a sweet dessert wine made from raisins). The walk took us the best part of the day, including a gorgeous lunch in Vernazza of fried fresh anchovies and grilled veggies with olive oil and thyme (Becky) and trofie al pesto (Tom). We were exhausted by the end but exhilarated .

We left the Cinque Terre reluctantly on Friday and spent a lovely afternoon in Genoa. Our visit was distinctly fishy flavoured, like Genoa itself. We visited the aquarium and took a wrong turn on the docks in Genoa but discovered a hoard of well-wrapped older men descending upon a returning fishing boat to buy their dinner. It was amazing to see one of the deckhands lift live octopus out of a bucket ready for sale. It made us reflect that 1. Italians like their food fresh, 2. Italian men of the generation of my parents do most of the shopping (and gardening) while women stay at home and cook and clean. There was not a woman on the docks buying fish. We also sampled Ligurian fish stew at an eatery near the docks as well as pesto alla genovese, topping off our fishy afternoon with a touch of basil.

After a ferry trip overnight, we arrived in Barcelona. This was Tom’s first visit and a return for me after a wonderful 10 days there with Cheryl and Miranda in 1999. It was wonderful for me to remember the great time we had there in 1999 and sad to think how much it made me miss Cheryl and Miranda. And we had a great time this trip also. I enjoyed returning to my favourite places and Tom was also taken aback by what we saw. I enjoyed seeing Tom see things for the first time too, a strange kind of pleasure. And that was the start of our acquaintance with stunning mosaic and tilework, something we have seen all through Spain and Morocco. (The subject of many of my photos). We visited the Palau de Musica Catalana, with its colourful tiled entrance and facade and naturally-lit auditorium, Parc Guell, La Pedera (both Gaudi designed) and La Sagrada Familia, the unfinished cathedral designed by Gaudi. So many nice curved lines, weirdly wonky columns, rough stonework, pretty colours, kooky windows and rich tilework (Islamic design inspired). It was so good to be visiting these places together, we were both so excited! Walking into La Sagrada Familia -still a construction site- was like walking into a forest, with its huge tree shaped columns rising above us so that the roof was like a canopy. Last time I had visited we had thought the new works on the cathedral had perverted what was originally done, but 5 years later it felt like the new construction was consistent with Gaudi’s other work.

We also enjoyed wandering around the streets near our hostal in the Barri Gothic. We noticed that Spain is a very permissive society just one sign of this being the amount of marijuana being smoked openly on the streets. What a massive shift this country has made since Franco died in 1975 and first free elections only being held in 1977! The highlight of our visit (and I think I speak for both of us) was watching the Sardana, the Catalan dance of nationalism being performed in the square outside the cathedral. At noon in the bright sun, we noticed groups of elderly Barcelonians gathering with shopping bags and chatting. Some arrived with cases containing instruments. Slowly and with growing excitement, seats arrived and sandshoes were donned and the music started! Lots of trumpets and a strong, slow beat. Bags and coats were put in the middle of circles that had formed and the dance began. Such a slow, defiant dance of protest, small steps with groups of dancers, both men and women, holding hands. It made Tom reflect that Catalan nationalism is clearly strong and deeply felt but that Calatans were used to getting nowhere with it. It was an amazing thing to witness.

After three lovely days in Catalunya, we caught the night train to Malaga, bound for Fes in Morocco for new adventures with Christine and Abdul Kadir.

Posted by Becky in Granada 20 February 2005