European Travel: Saints, Castles, Cafes and a Mermaid

Just returned, back home to the USA, after a one month swing through France (Paris and Amboise) and Northern Spain. I got to live the life of a bourgeoisie, as they call the middle classes in France, staying at hotels and eating fabulous meals in restaurants and tapas bars. I observed a few things in my travels with my friend, and came to a few conclusions. Or let's just call them observations:

* The summer sun goes down late in Europe-- around 10:00 PM.

* The French kings built beautiful castles for their wive and mistresses-- euphemistically called chateaus. Chateau is an understatement. These amazing structures- fortified with moats and thick walls and are truly regal. We saw a few, Chenonceau and Loches. Chenoncea has an amazing history and extends across the entire width of the river Cher. Loches has the feel of the Middle Ages and rises high above the surrounding Loire Valley countryside.

* The Parisian women have great style. So many beautiful women!

* The temperature in Amboise was very comfortable and the city has great charm. The walled streets of the city come right up to the lanes and streets winding through the town. You get transported back in time.

* At the L'Alliance restaurant I had "panna cotta", a cream dessert,with blackberries and other fruits. The flavor of panna cotta verged on a religious experience for me-- maybe the best sweet food of my lifetime.

* In Spain, we started out in Barcelona. I made a good decision to join in with a tour group for the La Sagrada Familia cathedral, the life work on Antoni Gaudi-- and wrote a blog entry about the power of that experience. Gaudi is up for a sainthood, I've read.

* Our favorite hangout in Barcelona, Chicha Limona restaurant was recommended by Jose, our VRBO landlord. We became regulars and got to know the wait staff in their black-and-white checked shirts. A shout-out here to Pilar, Tomas, Julia, and Lluis-- some of the employees who treated us so well.

* Santiago de Compostela also transports you back in time. The pilgrims completing the "Camino", the walk that begins in France and crosses north Spain to the cathedral and burial place of St. James, add a strong theme to the city's identity. We loved the Costa Vella Hotel, recommended by Rick Steven, and its shaded jardin in the back. Another city of endless winding lanes with stone walled houses and apartments lining the street.

* The Mama Peixas (mother fish) restaurant in Santiago is a standout. Spanish food and especially seafood is a standout.

* Check out a town called Comillas and the north Atlantic. Spanish tourists go there, a good sign, and they have an early Gaudi building called "Capricho". Capricho is covered with sunflower tiles. And we got to see actual sunflower fields in France-- where the flowers actually pivot to follow the sun.

* The amazing city of San Sebastian features a surf beach with golden sand. The sand somehow matches the gold tones of the walls of the buildings. I loved the pounding surf, too powerful for the surf school kids to enter very far into the ocean that day.

* The Spanish women are also beautiful.

* And I had my very own Girl from Impanema experience at La Playa de San Sebastian. The surfer beach in San Sebastian is where we encountered "la sirena", the mermaid. The mermaid was dark-haired with brown skin and might even have been South American. She wore a black wetsuit with a raya azul and had swim fins. The wetsuit fit her body like a glove. Wetsuits fit everybody like a glove-- but the glove surrounding her  body was exceptional. I asked her if it was a dangerous day for body surfing. "Peligro, no?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled with playful eyes. She seemed to to say... it goes with the territory. But her territory is actually water. No surf is too dangerous for La Sirena.

My last observation concerns European travel, especially for the American middle classes, and the impact of a guy named Rick Steves. We had Rick Steve's books for France and for Spain. Rick, it turns out, is a Lutheran from Edmonds, Washington. Somehow his passion for travel led him to become the guru of all European travelers, at least American travelers with a little bit of money. I know there more hippie style of travel from youth. Reed and I got in many conversations with fellow Americans. Usually we would be in fabulous restaurants in between beautiful entrees or tapas courses-- and the topic of Rich Steves, the traveler writer and TV travel host, would invariably come up. Rick has become the patron saint of the well-heeled traveler. I got to experience that lifestyle for a month and let's just say... it ain't bad.

The Camino to Santiago de Compostela: by train (June 19)

Many travelers to the north of Spain have heard of the "Camino"-- the walk from the south of France to the city where Saint James was buried at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. This is a Catholic pilgrimage of several hundred miles or more. Some take the big walk as an expression of religious devotion; others take the journey as a personal spiritual encounter.

My friend Reed, asked me to visit Spain. He knew my mother's family has roots in Galicia and we will eventually visit her home village of Sada, a fishing town situated above Portugal. So my Camino is part tourist trip and a return to family ancestry. Instead of a walk, we took a massive 12 hour train journey, from Barcelona to Santiago. Okay, it's easier riding a comfortable train, complete with a cafe car, than traversing miles of Spanish countryside.

The Renfe train revealed very productive land for the first several hours. The many miles of cultivated land impresses me with Spain's agricultural richness. Believe it or not, I visited Spain in 1963 as a 14 year old. Okay, so I'm older than you! My Aunt Carmen took mt to Espana to expose an American teenage kid to our family's homeland. We started in the south. We saw arid land and beautiful orchards of olive trees with shimmering leaves of silver. The cork trees really shocked me. The bark had been carved out, to make corks, I guess, for wine bottles. The trees survived despite have big square blocks carved out of their sides. We saw Malaga, Sevilla, Córdoba and Granada. Spain seemed more isolated in 1963. Nobody spoke much English. Times have changed. The average  storekeeper or citizen in the street now chatters away in English before "puedo hablar ni una palabra."

I went to Galicia in 1963 and spent a month here. I come back an older person and to the nueva Espana. I'm glad Spain has gone through all these changes. Maybe when We get further into Galicia, to A Coruna, Vigo, Orense, Vigo, Lugo and Pontevedra and Sada, of course, I will get to try out my rusty, high school Spanish. Galicia is green, with rolling hills, a bit of Irish greenery at the top of Spain. I love the orange tiles on the roofs of the homes. Tomorrow we will be by the seaside, the Atlantic Ocean crossed by my grandfather Juan Lopez and his wife, maiden name-- Dolores Garcia Tie. I've heard the stories from my mother Beatriz and my aunts Carmen and Dolores. Now I get to walk the streets of the town-- my own personal Camino.