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.

We had heard about a festival in the city of Tarragona celebrating its Roman heritage. The event is called “Tarraco Viva”, and we just missed it in 2011. So we planned our trip to Spain in 2012 so that we could pop north to Tarragona right after we arrived. It was fun, with all sorts of exhibits and exhibitions on various aspects of the Roman era. Most events had “sold out” before we got there. But near the ticket booth we got a tip from a festival worker who although Spanish, spoke English. Well, not only did he speak English, but he did so with an uncanny British accent* combined with a strange gesture of touching his face near his eye as he confided the “secret” that you could actually position yourself quite close to most events without getting a ticket.

There were demonstrations of various crafts, exhibitions of medical devices of the Roman era, and of course, Roman soldiers. Tarragona has a variety of visible remains of that era, including an amphitheater right next to the sea. During the festival mock gladiator fights were staged there.

The town itself is lovely and if you ever get a chance to visit, do it!

* (Although it is the British variant of English typically taught to Spaniards, I have never before encountered anyone who had assimilated that accent!)