León, Castile-León, North West Spain

León coat of arms

After less than seven days back in Madrid, but after five long arduous early starts and big working days, it's time for another adventure!

We're getting good at these early starts, waking in the early autumn darkness, we were up well before the birds and ate a hearty bus-ready breakfast. Today, unfortunately, John couldn't make this trip due to study but joined as far as the metro entrance! The basement bargain five euro bus trip from Madrid to Leon left from Madrid's Estacion de Sur (not exactly close to our house) and after a delayed start the bus was eventually on the road, driving high through flat, dry fields of the central Meseta plateau... for five hours! Argh! Should have totally checked that first- Not realising how far North Leon was, in hindsight I would not have eaten all my bus snacks in the first hour.

Plaza Iglesias San Marcelo

Although the journey was pleasant and the women across me nearly looked like she was maybe going to share her chocolate, I caught up on some sleep and it was good to finally arrive. This was only a day trip and I'd lost at least two hours in getting the bus timetable confused so into the city heart I marched, down the broad boulevard! Ohh jeepers it was cold! Outside, against the neighbouring pharmacy wall a green temperature gauge blinked 19°C but it was already 1pm! Holding my jacket a little closer, first stop was the tourist information centre located in the Plaza Iglesias San Marcelo. 

Bubble making-Calle Ancha

Calle Ancha

Leon is the smallish capital city of the Castile-Leon region in Spain's Northwest province of Leon and isn't far below the Asturias province (that's one of the most Northern areas of Spain). Size wise, it is currently the largest city in Castile-Leon and was originally founded as a Roman military encampment around 29BC. But what I first noticed, walking down the Main Street were the bright flowers, hanging from potted balconies! So beautiful!

The old centre was alive and people flooded the streets. Guests from a church wedding flooded out across the road and families were settling in for tapas across the plazas. With my map in hand and my stomach growling, the next stop was toward barrio humeda (the wet neighbourhood) for lunch. This old part of town has all the traditional Spanish alleys, tiny crooked and wobbly stone paths and has acquired a reputation, a play on its name, for the multitude of bars and places to drink. 

So venturing into its depths opened a huge possibility of lunch options! Wandering around it was hard to make up my mind, sunny tables of the slightly downhill terrace looked inviting and in a region that takes food as seriously (if not more so) than religion I was in for a treat. Restaurants offered a multitude of free tapas. 

Morcilla on patatas

Cider and Sardines

Eventually I chose a traditional meson bar and sat up against the busy wooden counter. Along with my white wine I received a free tapa. (Here you could choose which local tapa you prefer). I chose morcilla heavily dolloped on freshly fried patatas, something recommend by a student's father. Certainly something I wouldn't order normally especially after a few yiky run-ins (to clarify it's cooked pig blood sausage) but this was amazing! Soft and creamy with a mild spiced flavour served a bit like pâté. 

Following this I grabbed what I thought was another bargain a little bit down and around the corner: a huge bottle of natural (unsweetened) cider and a plate of lightly battered and fried sardines. When I managed to get through the 700mls I had quite a buzz happening. By then, the sun was finally heating the city, warming the buildings. I ventured down, first to the plaza mayor which was chocker block, filled to the brim with a farmers market. 

Beautiful town hall, Plaza Mayor

Little white tents bobbled across the tiled plaza covering their fruits and vegetables. On the western side the beautiful town hall towered over the plaza watching everybody carrying out their Saturday afternoon shopping. 

Outside the Cathedral 

A little lost in the network of streets I stumbled out very close to the Cathedral de Leon, but since it was closed (lunchtime) I followed my map to the Basilica de San Isidro. 

The gothic-style Basilica de San Isidro was founded in 1063 to house the remains of the city's patron saint: San Froilán. Located on the sight of an ancient Roman temple of Mercury, and a tenth century monastery dedicated to John the Baptist. Underneath the Basilica's medieval royal pantheon today lay eleven kings, numerous queens and many noblemen in polychrome vaults. After a quick look around inside then I moseyed back to the Cathedral de Leon.

Man attacking what looks like a dragon?

Cathedral de León

Basilica de San Isidoro

Following the scollops 

From the Basilica to the Cathedral I followed a short part of the cobbled Camino de Santiago that travels through the city. This famous pilgrim walk (discussed more in our Logrono blog) is depicted by it's well known brassed scollop shell markers, set on the footpaths. Looking out for their golden glisten I passed ancient doorways, hostels and pensions full of walkers. Following the pilgrim footfalls I was back at the 13th century catholic cathedral in no time. Demanding attention with its bearing presence and gothic stonework the cathedral was once a palace commissioned by King Ordoño II during the Spanish reconquista. After the successful battle of San Esteban de Gormaza against the Arabs in 917 the King grateful to god dedicated the palace as a sacred place. His tomb apparently lies under the ancient stonework, built into the Cathedral after his death in 924. With my entry ticket I received an audio-guide and with it up against my ear stepped into the dark looming cathedral. 

Panoramic at the back of the Cathedral 

The main attraction: quite possibly some of the most stunning stain-glassed windows adorned the church's lofty interior. Over 1800 square meters of coloured glass display intricate biblical stories and the glass shone, sparkling as the sun penetrated them; laying truth to it's alternative name: the house of light. Many windows are even original, dating back to the 13th-15th centuries. I walked around with the audio-guide plastered to my ear the illumination of vivid blues, firey reds, yellows, greens and deep purples danced in front of my eyes, moving with me as I circled the perimeter.

Central area

Side view

Returning a little starry-eyed into the bright sunshine outside I followed Avenida de Los Cubos around behind the church and traced the perimeter of an ancient roman wall. The wall ended again, morphing into the backside of the Basilica de San Isidro where I turned and walked back to the central area.

Walking Avenida de Los Cubos

Back at the Basilica (main entrance)

Traditional Castile-Leon products

Last stop of the day was for bus snacks as I begun my arduous journey back to Madrid! 

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Alicante, Coasta Blanca, Spain

Playa del Postiguet

Over 7000 years ago hunter gathers migrating down the Iberian Peninsula from central Europe stopped and made settlement on Spain's Costa Blanca. Establishing their base on the dry foothills of Monte Benacantil, they had discovered a gem: a clear blue ocean bountiful in fish and seafoods. 

Whoa- Alicante! 

Monte Benacantil

Centuries later the small city of Alicante is a flourishing Mediterranean port. An area without much defence it was continually conquered and stood no resistance to the influx of rulers flexing their muscles and taking over the desirable trading port. Rival armies, the Romans, the Carthaginians, the Goths, the Moors, the Castilians and eventually the Kingdom of Valencia all took their hands in ruling; fighting battles against each other on the hot sandy landscape.

The city specialised in rice, wine, olive oils, wool and oranges however in 1609 King Felipe expelled thousands of moors who were charged with cooperating with pirates (this was 400years after the Spanish reconquest), as they left so did the skilled labour which sent the city almost into bankruptcy until the late 19th century.

Today the beautiful and quiet port city focuses its interests on tourism, sharing its history and culture with not only Spain but also the rest of the world. The port is inactive but is a welcoming gate for cruise boats. Its soft sandy beaches are packed during the summer months, littered with cheerful umbrellas, white deck chairs and bronzed bodies. Barrio de la Santa Cruz, the old city quarter, with its narrow cobbled streets has an active nightlife scene and is decorated with flags and pots of flourishing flowers. 

Old town colour

Something smells fungi... 

Looking West 

Looking North (see the bull ring?)

We visited on the last Saturday or August, when many shops are still closed for summer vacation. 

It was a stunning morning, the sky with lines of pink strewn across a hazy baby blue grey. It was also still early so after stopping at the city's tourist information we decided to climb the towering Monte Benacantil and see the Castle of Santa Barbara which watches over the region. Keen not to get side tracked our map was sufficiently helpful and we quite easily scaled the Southside looking down over the city's entirety. The castle was built during the time of Muslim control and has an amazing location. 

Waving up Explanada de España

Waving down Explanada de España

In town, breakfast was finishing up but local tourists lingered over their coffee and tomato toasts. Slightly peckish we ordered a garlic potato brava dish and on a parallel road, claros and tapas. What a treat, ohh how we had missed the Spanish food. Hearts soaring, giddy and tipsy we waved ourselves along the Explanada de España, lined with palm trees and made from small squares of marble, people were walking up and down taking in their paseo or casual stroll. We ended up perfectly at the beach front (playa del postiguet) and scoured ourselves a spot next to hundreds of other beach goers.

Clothes on people! 

Visiting a Spanish beach is quite an experience as the Spanish really have far more body confidence than other nationalities and it seemed very normal for woman and men of all ages and sizes to wear as little as possible. Tops? Who needs them? Modesty? Nope- not here! Horrified at our paleness against neighbouring naked sun worshippers we spent lots of time in the clear warm waters of the Mediterranean bobbing in the waves.

This whitey won't be white much longer! 

Several hours of bathing in the sea, drying in the sun, bathing again, drying, bathing....and then we headed off for a late lunch. 

Feeling a little adventurous and excited we went on a self-made Spanish tapas tour, heading where our noses took us and probably one of the best ways to try lots of small portions of the local foods within a limited time! Alicante could be the home of tapas, with fewer restaurants than tapa bars! 

Cold wine, free tapa! 

Ordering our new favourite for lunch- eggplant with a molasses honey! The best part of impromptu tapa touring is you never really know what you'll get with your beverage! We tried mouth watering pork, crab salad, salmon and juicy garlic prawns and washed down with vino blanco or a small local beer!

Our bus home drove through the western desert-looking land but we missed it, sitting back, eyes closed, lost in our dreams of returning back another summer. 

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Tapa's in Murcia, Region of Murcia, Spain

Ayuntamiento de Murcia

Our bus plundered through the Spanish countryside. Shaking and wobbling its way around the bendy roads, constantly turning as we moved through a chain of large mountains. 
Peering out the dirty bus window we could imagine that we were in a western movie, large golden coloured rocky mountains covered the horizon, sandy desert lay from the road to their feet. Cactus and small dusty shrubs dotted the forefronts. It was nothing but arid, sandy, dry desert land. 

Kara outside the Murcia Cathedral 

As our bus veered closer towards our destination, palm trees begun sprouting from the ground, falling and drooping in odd directions. 

Through the windscreen we could see healthy plantations of orange farms indicating more fertile lands as we crossed the flat plain. 

Murcia the capital of the Murcia region, is a small and very typical Spanish city at the bottom east side of Spain. Commissioned by the Emir of Córdoba in 831 a small settlement was built along the banks of the Segura river. Way off the normal tourist routes the city is renowned for its local produce. In fact its name derives from the Latin Murtae (Mulberry). For centuries mulberry leaves were grown to feed silk worms, an industry that lasted well after WWII; that was until they could not compete with man made fibres. Unfortunately, with less than 300mm of rain annually, growing their famed vegetables doesn't come easy!

Front of the Episcopal Palace

Gardens in the Plaza de Martinez Tornel

Nuestra Senora del Carmen

Statue in Plaza Santa Catalina

The city of Murcia doesn't have huge monuments, famous museums or much to overwhelm a visitor. But it does have maybe some of the best food in Spain. The food alone is worth a visit, that and the true Spanish experience. We arrived late afternoon and it was siesta time, something taken extremely seriously down in these southern parts. With the temperature hovering around 35degrees we ventured out to quietly, in the empty streets, see what Murcia had to offer hungry travellers. 

Ensalada Murciana

John with his Pastel del carne

Ohh, but we didn't get far, at the end of our street we stopped for a qinto y tapa of Ensalada Murciana (small bottled beer with a type of potato salad) and then next door to there we paused to try the local meat and egg pie! Slightly salty but bursting with flavour surrounded by a light melt-in-your-mouth pastry. Happy chappies we veered towards the large Cathedral of Murcia. This beautiful building made of sandy stone is famed for its artistic diversity, a super-imposed facade of Baroque over a large Gothic style interior. Several other pretty buildings pulled us closer but it was the picturesque fountains and corners of the Plaza de las Flores we liked most. 

Rome Theatre 

Spending some time walking around, everything was still very much closed as we mentioned, siesta is taken very seriously here with the large majority of bars and restaurants only re-opening at 8pm. By then, a little peckish again we found a small taparia open serving cold food and tried two local dishes the pisto (vegetables fried with pepper, onion and tomato) and a mushroom shrimp concoction accompanied with light fruity Murcian white wine. 

We tried some pinchos too! 

Trying more local specialities 

Warm Jamon mini-Burgers

An amazing dish from our hotel

Catching the full moon 

Our last tapa of the day was an amazing garlic jamon and mushroom dish with Estrella beer at our hotel restaurant for uno euro night! Alright, alright we ended up having two each!

It was a short weekend stay in Murcia but most enjoyable!

Tot siens,

John and Kara

La Tomatina & Valencia, Spain

It was pitch dark and quiet, so quiet that all we could hear were the soft sounds of our shoes hitting the pavement as we ran. The street lights were dim and we could only smell the warm bitter scent of coffee coming from our own breath. It was early, very early on the morning of the last Wednesday of August. The sun was still hours away from rising but it was already almost 30degrees. We were running through the streets of Valencia to catch the Regional line to the small village of Bunol, running because we stopped on the way out of our hotel to enjoy a small nibble of breakfast, running so we weren't late, running to what was going to be one of the craziest things we've done in Spain, yet. 

Hahahahaha! Fish face... Kara fish! 

Matching tomato man! 

Back-tracking ten hours we arrived to the Mediterranean seaside city of Valencia, Spain's third largest city, after spending the afternoon in Barcelona. That morning we had waved goodbye to Rome, completing our amazing summer in Italy. Valencia is one of the oldest cities in Spain and strategically located, it boasts being the birthplace of one of Spain's most famous cuisines- the Paella (pie-yay-a). There are also two major events that happen in Valencia annually, Las Fallas and La Tomatina. 

John's in the ...ahh.. red... (top right)

What is La Tomatina? Perhaps the craziest - of epic proportions - food fight in the world. Not for the weak, faint-hearted and small of stature the annual event is like putting yourself through a blender. Originating in 1945 when several young people who were watching a town parade either purposely or accidentally knocked a musician, who so enraged begun throwing tomatoes. Returning the following year with tomatoes of their own the festival (much to the authority's displeasure) begun.

Look close... see the pole

And so there we were running to the train station to participate in this year's, the 70th anniversary of the largest food fight in the world. Arriving into Bunol, the town was pumping. Music was playing loudly and in the doorways party goers from the night before lay resting. All down the main road local residents were selling sangria and boccadillos and busloads of excited partygoers were arriving. We effortlessly collected our entry bands, took a locker and bought sangria by the litre as we waited for the other 35,000 - 45,000 people to arrive.

Yes! Part of the gang! 

The town had one main narrow road and as the morning progressed thousands jammed their way in focusing on the centre to Plaza del Pueblo where on a large greased wooden pole hung a heafty leg of jamon. As with tradition people attempt to reach the jamon, which would then signal the beginning of the hour long tomato assault. What we saw though was a frenzy of people climbing, jumping and hanging off each other, liken to a zombie attack they looked ravaged, clothes ripped and clawing up the wooden pole.


The pole was quickly forgotten though when at 10.57am we were suddenly caught under a ferocious onslaught of water pulsating out of fire hoses. Blinded, disorientated, drenched and scrambling for our goggles the first siren went off signalling the start. Within moments the first tomatoes were flying, smacking us on the heads. The goggles fogged up fast and there were masses of arms, legs, flying shirts and tomatoes. As the first truck honked its way through we were squished against everyone else. Bodies stacked alongside each other, hip bones digging into thighs and with absolutely no room to move anything we swayed like one. The Roma tomatoes, long oblong shaped and not exactly at all soft or over-ripe shot like bullets tearing off goggles and exploding on impact. Trucks continued to pummel through the crowd and through it all the fire hoses shot ice cold water at a bloodthirsty level. For sixty long minutes there was nowhere to go and try as we might, we were too far into the depths, with caught-in arms and legs. We threw, we caught we smashed and we took painful hits and the tomatoes kept coming. All 170tonnes of them and soon the juices covered our feet, our ankles and shins. We were nothing but pasta caught in a thick sloppy sauce.

Exactly one hour later the siren signalled the end, the trucks drove off empty and we waddled, slipped and sunk in the blood red streets. 

Kara by Plaza de la Reina

Drenched in our soaking-wet, itchy clothes we boarded the train back to the city. Returning to our hotel wasn't an easy task, everything looked so different, shutter doors that were closed earlier now were open. With no GPS it took us a long time to manoeuvre the five kilometres back to our hotel under the midday sun.

John by the Agora, Centre of Arts

One of the things that they don't tell you or you don't really hear people talk about La Tomatina is that after the event you're quite likely to get sick and that tomato is really, really, hard to get out of your hair. Festival goers stand for hours in the street, waiting, drinking, singing and when the tomato comes raining down and the mulch fills and floods the streets its full of body fluids, urine, vomit, alcohol and your normal street dirt. The tomato acid certainly smooths the complexion but if you have sensitive skin, like Kara or half of everyone attending, the infamous 'pimply, itchy tomato rash' will plague you for days. Your eyes, will expel stringy yellow and green mucus for hours, fighting the gunk that went in them and as your body does the motions fighting toxins your lymph nodes swell so much that you can hardly put your arms down. So would we do it again? Hell yes! 

La Tomatina was our highlight in Valencia but we also spent the next two days enjoying the bilingual (Catalan and Spanish) city and recovering from the festival. 

Unidentified church

View from Plaza Ayuntamiento 

This included our walk to the beach (la playa) where we stumbled across some friendly kiwis when we were awkwardly climbing up the side of a bridge after taking a wrong turn. Valencia actually has the closest beach to Madrid. Huge and sandy we were surprised how big it was and the sea, a little rough, smelt amazing. 

Palm trees? Check! Sand? Check! Good to go! 

Plaza de la Virgen

We walked and jaunted through the central district and across from our hotel was also the futuristic Centre of Arts (Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias). 

Catching some sun at the
Palau de les Arts

In the Umbracle

Overall Valencia surprised us with what a liveable city it was! Surrounded by parks, the beach and mountains there was something for everyone. Even savoury gelato? 

Tomato? Salmon? Potato omelette? Anyone... 

Via Barcas, City Centre

Inside the central market

We couldn't leave without trying the famous local dish though and so on our last evening we went out for Paella! Actually considered a lunch time dish and never eaten at dinner it wasn't easy to come by. Through share fortune we came across an Arroceria (rice restaurant) and here they prepared us the traditional Paella Valencian. This hot pan of golden grainy yellow goodness is served under a huge slathering of green beans, buttery white beans, purple tinged artichokes, land snails in their striped shells and knobbly legs of rabbit, succulent pieces of chicken and warm duck. All the flavours fuse together with spices of turmeric, paprika and saffron creating what was a 'que rico' and delectably delicious dinner! 

Us and our Paella

Paella Valencian close up

Tot siens,

John and Kara