For years I have wanted to walk the “Camino de Santiago”. This is a pilgrimage route that ends in the city Santiago de Compestela in western Spain. The route dates from the middle ages. But after my bad fall, and the reconstruction of my ankle, I decided it would never happen.

The summer of 2012 when we were in Xàtiva, I rejoined the local exercise group “Ruta Sana”, which involves three walks of an hour every week, followed by some stretching exercises. The first time back with them was difficult, and my ankle ached afterward. I was sure I couldn’t continue. But I did. And my ankle got stronger and stronger. It was good medicine.

By mid-July, I decided I was ready to go and at least look at where the Camino de Santiago crosses the border from France, and enters Spain. And I thought that perhaps I could at least walk a mile

or so of it for fun.

 

I took the train to my old friend, the city of Zaragoza, and then got on another train that went through the city of Huesca and on toward the Pyrenees. Soon after Huesca, the scenery began to get dramatic.  We passed by the “Mallos de Riglos”- a group of huge rock formations jutting skyward.

 

 

 

 

 

Soon the peaks of the Pyrenees came into sight beyond lush farmland and forests.

 

I got off near the end of the line, in Jaca, and checked into a comfy hotel near the town center. Although it was July, as evening approached the air became chilly (the elevation of Jaca is  2,690 ft above sea level). I asked about local transportation, and

discovered that there is a bus that heads up toward the French border, stopping at small towns along the way, as well as a couple of ski areas near the top of the Somport Pass. Jaca – Castello de Jaca – Villanua – Canfranc (town), Canfranc Station, Candanchu (ski resort), Astún (ski resort). The next morning, I headed out on the yellow bus.

I had already mapped out an itinerary that involved a stop partway up, where I could amble along a less brutal section of the trail to see if I could handle it. But for the purpose of this account, we will jump forward, to my arrival at Somport pass.

 

The bus stopped in a turn-off right below the border, before continuing onward to the ski resort of Astún. The main highway to France passes through a tunnel, but there is still a roadway that crosses over the top of the pass. Like most borders within the European Union, this is no longer guarded, no passport is needed to cross, and the gate remains in its open position.

 

 

I walked fifty meters into France and admired the view into the country. (remember that you can click on any of these pictures for a larger view!)

 

 

 

 

At the top of the pass is a shrine that marks the crossing of the Camino de Santiago into Spain, and then the trail heads down the mountain. This route is very well marked and the trail is well traveled.

 

 

In addition to its status as the “Camino de Santiago” the trail within Spain is one of the designated “Long routes” for hiking, and this is indicated with a route number and red/white trail markings

Onward I go heading down the mountain toward Canfranc Estación! The scenery and mountain views were, of course, stunning. I have spent lots of time in the Rocky Mountains, which are beautiful. The Pyrenees have a quite different feel to them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some who walk “The Camino”, move along at a fast pace, with the ultimate destination in mind.

On the other hand, I am a rambler. Constantly stopping to look around and take in the scenery.

 

I try to see every little thing, and all the big things too!

 

 

 

 

On a trail like this, it is impossible for me to just forge ahead, eyes glued only to the path in front of me.

 

 

 

In places the trail was easy, and gentle. In other places it got a bit rugged. But my ankle held out!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One difference between the part of the Rockies with which I am familiar, and this area of the Pyrenees, is that it is pastoral. Along the way I encountered a large flock of sheep with their little tinkling bells. I first heard, then saw a small group of cattle, their deep cowbells clanking.

There was also a pair of horses in a small corral. They sported colorful leather bridles festooned with round, silver colored jingly bells.

 

 

 

 

My eyes always searching, I saw this small tunnel. What was it for? When was it built? On one hand, there was a likelihood due to its rather small cross-dimension, that it was for irrigation, or control of water. But on the other hand, in the location where

I saw it, there was really nothing to irrigate. In my mind I imagined some obscure use by partisans of the civil war, hiding close to the border.

In the saddle of the mountain shown on the left, there is something that looked to be perhaps a ruined castle. Certainly there is no shortage of ruined castles in Spain! But when I got a better look, it was clear that it was only a “castle-like” outcropping.

Not too far from Canfranc Estación, as I walked along the trail, I could see this ruined building up on a rocky outcropping. Is is the “Fuerte de coll de Ladrones”- a fort dating to the 19th century, built over the remains of an earlier fort from the16th century. Given the depredations by Napoleon’s troops during their occupation of Spain, the Iberian nation had a sense of urgency to protect the border from its northern neighbor. But, as you saw in earlier pictures, the two countries now share an open border. This fort was auctioned off to private ownership in 1990. (What do you think Rhonda? could we put a Bed and Breakfast there?)

Getting closer to Canfranc Estación, the trail passes next to some deep ravines of the Áragon River, and there are signs providing guidance to those who practice the sport of climbing there.

Finally the Camino reaches Canfranc Estación. The now derelict building was inaugurated, in the presence of the king of Spain and the President of France, in 1928 as an international train station, controlling traffic between France and Spain. Various conflicts, including the Spanish civil war caused periodic closure of the route. The station included both Spanish and French portions, and during the Second World War, when France was controlled by Nazi Germany, the Nazi’s used the French portion of the station, and there are even tales of Nazi gold being smuggled through the station. Apparently the station appeared in the movie “Doctor Zhivago”. Sounds like a good excuse to watch that great film again!

In 1970 a freight train derailed on the section of track in France, destroying an important bridge. International traffic was stopped and has not resumed. There are periodic calls to make repairs and reopen the route. The station itself has been declared a national historic site. There have been various plans to rehabilitate the structure as a hotel, as a railroad museum… But today it stands vacant. That same small regional train that I rode from Zaragoza terminates at this spot, using the tiny building you can see at the extreme left in the photo as the ticket station.

The the left you can see where the railway used to enter a tunnel to head under the mountain peaks and get to France. You can take a chilly walk a little way into the tunnel before reaching a barricade that seals it off.

 

 

 

 

The  Áragon River runs right through the narrow town of Canfranc Estación.

One of the big differences between backpacking in the wilderness of the Rockies, and walking the Camino, is that on the Camino you constantly pass through towns, where you can grab a bite to eat- either dining there, or slipping something into your pack for later. Ahhh… a small loaf of very tasty bread and a “Limón” soda.

 

 

 

 

As I previously mentioned, the trail is well marked. Here on the end of a bridge, you can see the “shell” logo of the Camino, the yellow arrow- another marking for the camino, and the red and white stripes marking the “Grand Route” within Spain.

A couple miles down the trail from Canfranc Estación, you arrive at the town of Canfranc. It is a fairly small town, of solid stone buildings, situated in a narrow strip between the highway and the river.

 

 

 

 

Most “Peregrinos” (pilgrims) who walk the Camino de Santiago stay in inexpensive, spartan lodgings called “Albergues”. Just before I passed this one, a small knot of Peregrinos headed out from it, preceding me down the trail toward the next town.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I spotted this ruined building, and have added it to my list as a potential Bed and Breakfast!

 

 

 

Just past the town of Canfranc, you come to this picturesque bridge rather interestingly known as the “new” bridge. Well, it is new in the sense that it replaced an older one! In terms of Spanish history, I suppose it is rather new, dating to 1599.

 

This part of the Camino is a truly lovely trail, with a wide variety of scenery. Much of the trail is remote from roads. These are examples of tranquil forest segments.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At this point the trail was roughly following the river, and since the river passed under the highway, so did the trail!

 

 

 

Looking back I was rewarded with a beautiful view of the peaks of the Pyrenees.

 

 

The next town, after Canfranc, is Villanua. The day I was there, townsfolk were participating in a mountain trail run. I had to keep carefully to the side after the point when their circuit joined the Camino.

Villanua seems to be a place that warrants a return trip. Nearby there is an interesting grotto, and also a “Dolmen” -remnant of an earlier Celtic settlement.

Well, I am not ready to really “walk the Camino,” but I am ready to continue traversing its route, one segment at a time. Weather and ankle permitting, I hope to be back for a little more in 2013! Paso a paso, even a cojo like me can eventually make it the whole way!

Zaragoza

The city of Zaragoza in Aragon has drawn me again and again over the last 5 or 6 years. My initial visit was prompted by conversations with a clerk at a downtown Denver post office combined with engravings I had seen in old books of the remarkable “Leaning Tower of Zaragoza.”

Once there, I became more personally aware of the diverse history and cultural offerings of the town. Early visits made me aware of the Roman heritage, as well as its remarkable struggles in what is known as the Spanish war of independence- the bloody battles to rid the peninsula of Napoleon’s troops.

Il Trovatore

A monumental building of note in Zaragoza is the “Aljafería”- constructed in the middle of the eleventh century at the behest of Al-Muqtadir. In addition to its architectural significance, and ornate beauty, it is the setting for parts of “Il Trovatore”, Verdi’s famous opera.

Well, on my brief stopover in Zaragoza as I “took the long way home”, I saw posters announcing that Il Trovatore was to be performed in Zaragoza the following week. Well, I confess that I had never been to an opera in my life. But how could I pass up this opportunity? Il Trovatore in Zaragoza!

As soon as I got back to Xàtiva, I made the arrangements. I bought a ticket to the opera online, secured train reservations to get me there, and booked a hotel room. Ah! But I had nothing to wear! It being mid-summer, I decided to abandon any thought of a suit or sport coat, and made hasty acquisition of a tie and suitable tie clip.  I was ready. Timing of my arrival and stay in Zaragoza allowed me to first attend the Alfonsadas festival in nearby Calatayud.

Compromise of Caspe

As always, I picked up a copy of the local newspaper. It was filled with articles about the 600^th anniversary of the “Compromise of Caspe”. The papers had been going on and on about this the week before as well. I had never heard of it before, but the basic story is this- King Martin, ruler of the Kingdoms of Aragon and Valencia, died in 1410.  His domain also included Barcelona, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, and parts of what is now southern France. Martin’s only son had died previously, and there was no clear heir to the throne. Spain’s history is dotted with wars fought between disputing contenders for succession to the throne. In this case there were about a half dozen powerful men vying to become king. In a rather inspired approach, a group of nine respected dignitaries were appointed with the task of resolving the dispute and selecting Martin’s successor. This process and their decision took place in 1412, and they named Ferdinand I (Grandfather of the Ferdinand who figures in the story of Christopher Columbus). In spite of these measured deliberations, armed conflict did occur. One of the losing pretenders to the throne, the Count of Urgel, sought to impose his claim through force. However he was defeated and imprisoned.

 

A Night at the Opera

As curtain time grew near, I headed from my hotel room across town to the Zaragoza Auditorium. As I took my seat I was relieved to see only a few men wearing jackets. So I would not be singled out for dress-code ridicule. I waited for the curtain to rise. Since the opera is in Italian, I thought I should read the program, and learn the full story I was about to see. It is a twisted tale of love, rivalry, betrayal, and mistaken identity.

The power of the orchestra and singing was overwhelmingly beautiful. I enjoyed the performance completely, and when it was done, I headed back to my room.

Linkage

On the train, heading home, I read more of the articles about the Compromise of Caspe. Suddenly it came together. I was surprised that it had not been explicitly pointed out in the program. The story of Il Trovatore is directly related to the Compromise of Caspe and struggle over the succession to the throne. Manrico, the “troubadour” in the story, is a follower of the Count of Urgel, fighting his losing battle to usurp the throne.  Not only had I seen the opera in the city that figures in the story, but I was seeing it on the 600^th anniversary of the event central to the story. (In fact, the night I attended was 600 years to the day after the decision so select Ferdinand had been reached.)

Footnote- a final convergence

A week after the opera, I was talking with my good friend Rafa, as we walked toward my house. We had chatted about a variety of topics and I began to explain my experience at the opera, and the convergence of location and anniversaries. Spanish history is longer and far more complex and convoluted than American history. It is quite difficult for most to keep track of more than little pieces. When I mentioned the Compromise of Caspe, Rafa drew a blank. I continued my story, and got to the part where Manrico, the troubadour, was a partisan fighting for the Count of Urgel. Rafa stopped in his tracks and gave me a peculiar, questioning look with a tilted head. “The Count of Urgel?” he asked me. “Did you say the Count of Urgel?” I assured him that he had heard correctly. Rafa looked at me and pointed to Xàtiva’s castle, a half mile up the hill. “The Count of Urgel was held prisoner in that very castle until he died!”

This convergence of the fictional story of the opera, set in a real historical context, 600 years ago, linked to Zaragoza, had now connected back to the castle that I can see from the bedroom of my house in Xàtiva. I smiled as we continued down the street.

It is an understatement to say that Spain is infused with history. And that history is constantly evident in the culture, customs, and monuments. It is visible in the historical cities, towns, and neighborhoods. Sometimes it can be seen in the ruins of Iberian or Roman cities; or in the hulking remnants of castles that were once dominant bastions of power.
The history of Spain also comes alive through the many festivals that celebrate various historical events.

I more or less blundered into the Alfonsadas festival in Calatayud. This celebrates the conquest of the city by Alfonso I in June of the year 1120. (I know that some amateur fact checker monitoring my posts is going to encounter the Wikipedia entry for Calatayud and tell me that no, it was 1119. Sorry. All I can say is that you cannot believe everything you read in Wikipedia!)

At one level, one might just shrug their shoulders and say, “Ah, yet another festival in Spain with a medieval motif. Heck, there are such festivals everywhere. We even have the “Renaissance Festival” every year in Colorado.”  But remember that this is an example of a community celebrating local history and the imprint of events and cultural history. This is more like going to Concord in Massachusetts and seeing remembrances of the role that town played in the American Revolution, than a “Renaissance Festival” in Colorado!
Well, of course any festival is also an opportunity to party, to eat, to play, and to people watch. I have some pictures to share that represent what I saw there. It was a lot of fun:

There were exhibitions,

Food and shopping,

 

 

 

And a town packed with locals and visitors, with costumed participants, and families just there to enjoy themselves and have a good time!

No impressive photos, no remarkable stories to tell. So just scroll through the pictures and imagine how much fun I had!

Of course, one of the important challenges when you have a festival in a city of narrow, winding streets, is logistical. With many streets completely shut off for vendor stands, exhibition space, etc., traffic needed to be controlled and in many cases rerouted.
This portable traffic signal was one mechanism to handle the cars!

 

 

Hard to imagine a commemoration of a twelfth century conquest without some sort of sword play.  Here some re-enactment folks head up to the “Plaza de la leña” where a sword fighting competition is due to take place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I could not watch this without thinking of my old, sadly departed friend, Jeff. He liked nothing better than making chain mail and bashing around with swords…

 

 

Some prepared with companions.

Some got ready on their own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And for one swordsman, it was a good luck kiss and “now put on your helmet and get with it!”

 

 

 

Referees watched over the matches.

And spectators looked on.

 

(I don’t know if the woman in the background is open-mouthed in shock at a brutal lunge… or just yawning! Hey guys! when is the real action going to start!)

The referee signals a point.

Calatayud also had a thriving Jewish community in the middle ages.

This group is wearing medallions with the star of David.

But now, let’s head down to the Plaza de San Andrés where as in the earlier festival in Xàtiva, there is a display of various raptors.

 

Of course, timing is everything. Here in Calatayud I got to see an exhibition of these birds of prey.

Two men, each wearing a large thick glove on one hand, took the birds out one by one and dazzled the crowd with a show of the birds flying from the arm of one to the arm of the other.

Some of these birds had huge wingspans! (and they all had dangerous talons!)

At one point, they had a bunch of kids get involved. They formed a line as the raptor was to fly over their outstretched arms.
But of course not all hunting was done with birds back then by any means! There was also an archery exhibition.

 

He shot balloons and other targets standing, kneeling, and over his shoulder.

All around
there were people of all ages playing a part in the festival.

 

 

Of course inevitably I was drawn to the food. There were plenty of places to grab something to eat on-site.

Including barbecue…

chips and churros…

There were also booths selling meats, cheese, breads, and all sorts of sweets.

“Chorizo” is not exactly the same thing in Spain, as it is in Mexico and the United States. Here you see signs for spicy chorizo and for sweet chorizo. Often when you buy “chorizo” in Spain, it is what we would call pepperoni.

For any of you who are bi-lingual… yes, you read the sign at the top correctly. Just as in France, some people in Spain eat horse meat. (no, I do not)

And (but of course!) tubs full of olives.

Sweets

Besides food items, there were also a wide variety of handicrafts, perfumes, incense, and jewelry for sale.

But what would a festival like this be if there were not topical play-gear and souvenirs?

Wooden swords for the kids too!

There were lovely replicas of mudejar architecture for sale. Expensive but really well made. Sometimes I wonder if I should have brought one home in my suitcase!

During the festival there was an overabundance of things to see. Period musicians, jugglers, rides for the kids, etc.

Of course, a lot of the fun was just watching the people- both attendees and participants in the shows.

On the right, a peasant with genuine medieval digital camera.

 

 

 

Remember that Spain’s history includes hundreds of years of “Moorish” domination. A history that is not forgotten. The Moors brought irrigation, and many of the foods grown in Spain today, as well a distinctive architectural style.

 

 

 

 

 

 

People were friendly, and also loved to play their parts. I saw the guy in the picture below sipping a beer. His wife nudged him and pointed me out, seeing that I was taking pictures. She held his beer as he posed solemnly. (Though I must say it was not very Moorish of him to be sipping beer!)

People really seemed to enjoy themselves.

 

 

 

 

Well, I guess the middle ages wasn’t all swords and fighting!

🙂

Wow! you made it to the end! Thanks for your patience!

I will leave you with one off-topic picture of tapas from the bar heading back to the train station. (Always thinking of food!)Next-

Zaragoza: “A night at the opera”

In Calatayud and Zaragoza, I found out about upcoming events that had be heading right back to those cities a week after returning home to Xàtiva. In Calatayud it was the “Alfonsadas” festival, and in Zaragoza the opera.

But before I get into those two events, here are a few pictures from Calatayud unrelated to the festival.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Onward to the Alfonsadas!

 

Anyone who visits Spain must visit Barcelona. And I mean spend some days in the city. There is so much to see. The old town, the architectural wonders of Antonio Gaudi, the sea. Barcelona always makes me feel alive!
Unfortunately this time around, I just passed through the town which is the capital of Catalunya, and the second largest city in Spain. I had a couple hour layover between trains, as I veered back south along the coast to head back through Valencia to Xàtiva.

I made good use of the time, taking a subway to the harbor, a short amble on the “Ramblas”, and then back by subway to the train station.

 

 

 

 

After my brief stopovers in Calatayud and Zaragoza, I continued on the route of the AVE high speed train route toward the coast. My next stop was Lleida, a historic city in Catalunya. I was not there long enough to get a real feel for the town, but did get a chance to go up to the cathedral turned fortress “La Seu Vella” high atop a hill in the center of the city.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving on from Calatayud, I headed to Zaragoza. Unlike Calatayud, I had already been to Zaragoza. It is a large city, bustling with activity. A city both ancient and modern.
From Zaragoza’s train station, I took the bus toward the center of the older part of town, and headed on foot down Alfonso I toward the basilica of the Virgin of Pilar. My hotel was just across the plaza from the church.

I had stayed at this hotel before, but it had been many years before. When the great exposition was held in Zaragoza in 2008, the hotel had been totally redecorated, and raised it prices.
Prices had settled back down since, but the interior, once comfortable though worn, now had a bright antiseptic white theme, with silly names associated with each guest room.

The back of the cathedral faces the Ebro river, and at the front side is a huge plaza. This plaza is far longer than the width of the church, and at its west end a modern fountain cascades walls of water into a pool.

 

(The church you can see behind the fountain is not the basilica of Pilar, but rather the church of San Juan de los Panetes.)

The the back side of the fountain is an almost vertical mirrored wall.

You can see the tower of the San Juan church in the reflection and the towers of Pilar behind at we look east.

 

 

At the opposite (eastern) end of the plaza we can see a statue of the famous painter Francisco Goya, who once lived in the city. Just a bit further east is the impressive cathedral known as “La Seu”.

 

Now was a good time to head back west again, and move beyond the plaza to visit the central market. Although Spain has no shortage of supermarkets such as Mercadona, Dia, Hipercor, Eroski, etc., many still spend time shopping in a variety of bakeries, butchers, fruit stands, etc., which are sometimes grouped together in a covered market, such as the Central Market in Zaragoza. Inside are many dozen stands selling every imaginable type of food, from hanging hams, untold variety of sausages, fresh fish, and colorful fruits.

The market in Zaragoza is a good one, and every time I visit it I wish I was doing more than shopping with my eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leaving the area of the market, I head down Calle Temple, with a dense collection of bars and nightclubs. I have never been in this part of town late at night, and in Spain, nightlife doesn’t get started until long after I am sawing logs. But I will say that these have quite intriguing exteriors.

These two signs outside the Jardin on Calle Temple evoke figures from the Spanish deck of playing cards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leaving the zone of nightlife behind, I cross the Avenida Cesár Augusto, named for the Roman emperor. Actually the town itself was called Caesaraugusta during the Roman Period, and its current name is the result of many hundreds of years of  corruption. (Think of what New Orleans will be called hundreds of years from now. N’awlins is already a few steps along the way in a similar process that created the name Zaragoza.)

I saw this small frog statue and had to add it here for Rhonda!

Continuing west, I can see the Mudajar tower of the San Pablo church peeking up from among various apartment buildings. The town has closed in around many monuments, and it becomes difficult to get a clear  open view of them! The next picture is a view of the entrance, as seen across a rather narrow street.

As we leave Zaragoza, I should mention that the fair of 2008 was on the two hundredth anniversary of the bloody siege of Zaragoza which occurred duringSpain’s war of independence as it sought to through off the yoke of French occupation under Napoleon’s troops. A flurry of civic improvements begun in preparation for the fair have led to more public works. Much of the city is torn up and disturbed by work on a new street car system.

Well, I speak of leaving Zaragoza, but it wouldn’t be for long! I had seen some posters announcing an event that would draw me back to town very soon! The opera! The circumstances are actually quite interesting… stay tuned.

Heading back to Xàtiva from Madrid in June, via the long, scenic route, I stopped for a couple of days in Calatayud. The town is incredible. It is filled with history, winding (often steep) streets and alleys, and interesting vistas. The town traces its origins to the pre-Roman period. The famous Roman poet and satirist Martial was from Bilbilis, the remains of which lie just a few kilometers from Calatayud.

In spite of my weak ankle, I wandered all around the town, explored its streets, churches, squares etc.

Some of the alleys were so steep they required stairs.

 

My sleeping arrangements were at a combination museum / restaurant / hotel called Mesón de la Dolores in an older part of the town.

 

 

 

 

My room was cozy and comfortable.

 

Of course my feet began to find their way up, up, up toward the castle.

 

 

 

 

There were wonderful views in all directions from on top of the hill as I walked around the castle.

 

 

 

 

And then I headed back down into town to see some more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
There are several “mudajar” style towers in Calatayud. This style involves very ornate brickwork and is attributed to the Moorish influences on Spanish architecture.

 

 

Although the camera never seems to do justice to what we see with our eyes, my camera shutter was in a constant state of motion.

Even now, a half a year later, it is tough for me to choose which of the hundreds of pictures I took, should be on this page. (don’t forget that you can click on the pictures to see larger versions!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking through my photos, I fell in love with the town all over again.

The church of San Juan el Real boasts a mudajar tower making it a visual delight on the outside. The inside is also beautiful, and includes some frescoes by Goya up high in a sort of triangular section framing the domes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This plaque depicting Sant Jordi (Saint George) leaps from the wall.

My hotel was not the only one of interest in town. Each hotel I saw cried out, “stay here, stay here.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Between the town and the rail station I stopped to take a picture of the Jalon river.

 

It is easy to get to Calatayud. High speed trains from Madrid to Zaragoza pass through Calatayud, and some stop there. There are many trains each day. As I waited for a train that would take me from Calatayud to Zaragoza, another train passed the other direction without stopping!

 

Xàtiva loves festivals! In early June we attended what I call “Borja-fest”, a tribute to two “native sons” of Xàtiva who were among the most notorious scoundrels of the time and became popes. (Calixtus III and Alexander VI). It is funny how towns and nations put on moral blinders regarding their own “notables.” (Calixtus was actually born in nearby Canals)
“http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Borgia”

Anyway, the town filled with people dressed in the garb of late medieval and early Renaissance times. Stalls sold handicrafts, lots of food, etc. There were reenactments of various activities and even a display of raptors.

OK… we liked the food the best, and didn’t even get up from a table where we were intently eating when the “popes” happened to walk by!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That was a BIG animal!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A tent full of swords, helmets etc.

 

 

And of course some soldiers to go with it.

While in the city of Tarragona, we got a phone call from our friend Rafa,who teaches at a school in Cornudella de Montsant, and told us that there was a festival there. Did we want to come? Of course!

He picked us up in his car, in front of the statue of Roger de Llúria near our hotel.
We left the city of Tarragnoa, passed near Reus, and soon were heading into the mountains known as the “Serra del Montsant”. In Cornudella, the festival was in full swing, with booths selling crafts, and a wine tasting event in the square. (The town is in the region known as Priorat, well known for wines). Rhonda and I were sipping wine and getting introduced to various people when the conversation turned to “Castellers.” This involves the sport of making human towers (“castles”) with various levels of participants standing on each others shoulders. Rafa knew that we hoped to see this sometime in person, and I showed him a flier I had picked up in Tarragona listing some dates and locations. He let out an exclamation and consulted with a colleague standing near us. As she made a phone call, he explained. Pointing to the paper he said that one of the listings was for that very day, in a nearby town. His friend was phoning the mayor of the town, an acquaintance, to ask whether the event had started yet. It had not! We piled into Rafa’s car and headed for Prades, winding along mountain roads. The town is known as the “Vila Vermella” (red town) because of the color of the stone used in many of the old buildings. A festival was well under way there and we got to see the castellers. It was great! Incredible! Want to see it on Youtube?

At a booth in Prades, we also bought the most amazing embutido (closest translation in English would be “sausage”, but the word does not do it justice!) we have ever had.