Beautiful Places

Road Trip Through Brittany: Josselin & Vannes or Castles, Standing Stones and Cheese

| 2suitcasesfor2years

The sun’s early morning rays cast a soft glow across the gently rolling countryside, silhouetting farm buildings and highlighting here and there pockets of mist still clinging to warm earth, and stubble in freshly plowed fields waiting to be seeded with their winter over crop.

The timing was uncanny, but I had just started to write this story when Donna called from the porch, “you have mail from France!” It must have been some tourist information I requested, I thought, and excitedly stopped writing. But I should have suspected from Donna’s smug grin that something was off kilter. To my disappointment it was the notification of a traffic fine! Who drives when we are touring is a bone of contention between the two of us. But I’ll be the first to admit that I am a terrible passenger and believe that the “Oh God” strap above the passenger door was specifically designed for my benefit.

As a consequence, I prefer to drive slowly to see tomorrow’s sunrise. I deliberately choose to deny my lovely, daring wife the thrill of downshifting and accelerating along the many cliffside serpentine roads we might encounter, as I cower in the passenger seat. There weren’t any cliffside drives in Brittany, but you get my drift. I can safely say we have different driving styles. Seriously, my wife is an excellent driver, it’s more about the extravagant fee per day the car rental companies charge for the extra driver than anything else, kinda. It was not a speeding ticket, but a moving violation caught by a traffic camera on a quiet Sunday morning in the sleepy French village of Saint-Jouan-de-I’Isle, deep in the heart of Brittany. I alone was to blame, but would have preferred asking forgiveness from a gendarme, then the robotic indifference of a traffic spy camera, and a letter months later in the mail. Though I will give credit to the French authorities for designing a user-friendly website, Amendes.gouv.fr, for paying fines online.  

We arrived mid-morning in Josselin just as the first wave of walkers were completing a charity walk in support of Pink October, France’s breast cancer awareness month, along the towpath that followed the Oust River in front of the town’s ancient castle, the Château de Josselin. It was late October, but the first yellows and muted oranges of Autumn were just beginning to show and combined with the walker’s pink vests made for a very colorful sight under a brilliant blue sky.

There has been a castle on this spot in Josselin since the 11th century, but the chateau you see today dates from 1370. Early in the 1400s Alain VIII of Rohan inherited the castle and it has remained a House of Rohan estate for 600 years. The chateau suffered poorly during the 16th century French Wars of Religion, as Henry II of Rohan supported protestant Huguenots against the King of France and the Catholic church; five of its original nine towers were destroyed on the orders of Cardinal Richelieu. During the French Revolution the castle’s towers were used as a prison, but afterwards it sat abandoned until the mid-1800s when Duke Josselin X of Rohan piloted an extensive restoration.

Strolling against the current of walkers we crossed a bridge to Josselin’s Quartier Sainte-Croix and wandered along narrow lanes past ancient half-timbered buildings dating from the early 16th century. Some leaned precariously, like an elderly person requiring a cane, while others featured ornamental heads carved into exposed roof rafters for decoration. Following our philosophy of “walk a little, then café,” we enjoyed a rest at the Logis Hôtel du Château, and its location on the riverbank.

Returning to the village, we stopped mid-bridge to admire the view along the riverport’s quay. With a renaissance chateau, charming buildings and a beautiful river to stroll along, no wonder Josselin has received the very French distinction as a Petite Cité de Caractère, a small town of character. During the high season paddle boards, kayaks, and boats are available for rent to enjoy this tranquil stretch of water.

The Oust is a canalized river and is part of the 220-mile-long Canal de Nantes à Brest which traverses inland Brittany to connect the seaports of Nantes and Brest, on the Bay of Biscay. The old towpath which follows the canal’s course is also a popular route for cyclists and hikers. We thoroughly enjoyed our morning in Josselin, but truly the quaint village deserves more time, or an overnight stay to absorb its wonderful ambiance. Vannes awaited us, so we drove on.

We arrived in Vannes and found convenient parking along the Port de Vannes quay, in an underground garage, in time for a late lunch. The masts of sailboats, with their colors flying, rocked gently in the afternoon breeze, against the background of the port’s Place Gambetta, and its iconic 19th century sandstone colored, Haussmann styled buildings, with their distinctive dormer windows in their mansard roofs. It’s difficult to imagine from the size of this petite harbor located on a narrow stretch of water called La Marle, that Vannes is actually an inland seaport, and the economic engine that drove Vannes’ prosperity since the era of the Romans, two-thousand years earlier. It was a favored protected anchorage, located three-quarters of a mile inland from the Gulf of Morbihan, for Rome’s merchant fleet of oared galleons, and it facilitated trade in wine and olive oil from France to England, while ships returned with valuable tin, lead and copper. Today the Port de Vannes hosts recreational and tour boats, which offer day trips to the islands in the Gulf of Morbihan, where on a windy day you can still see restored siganots, Brittany’s iconic two masted, gaff rigged, wooden fishing schooners, that typically have red sails, plying the waves.

Surprisingly, for this far north, a row of palm trees separated the Place Gambetta from the harbor, and gave the area a delightful French Caribbean vibe, before leading to the historic citadel through the Saint-Vincent gate. There were numerous restaurants, bustling with activity, surrounding the harbor, and we chose to lunch at Le Daily Gourmand for its outside tables and seasonal menu.

Excited by our first impressions of Vannes, we roughly planned our four days in the ancient city and day trips to Suscinio Castle, and the Alignements de Carnac. One of the attributes we consider when choosing a destination for a multiple day stay is the walkability of a city and are there enough things to do to keep us busy. Vannes fit the description perfectly, offering me multiple routes to explore the city during my 6 a.m. walks, while Donna slept in.

The walk along the Promenade de la Rabine, “the alley planted with trees,” was one of these walks that started near the Place Gambetta and followed the long sliver of La Marla, down its right bank a half-mile, towards the newer commercial port and the Gulf of Morbihan. The idea for this tranquil public space first arose in 1687, and over the following centuries it has been widened and extended several times. Halfway back on the return route there is a pontoon footbridge across the marina to the more cosmopolitan left bank.

A short walk from the Place Gambetta, the 19th century faded away quickly as we approached the historic Château de l’Hermine, with its formal garden featuring the emblem of the L’Ordre de l’Hermine, a medieval chivalric order, worked into its landscaping, and the Remparts de Vannes. The ermine depicted might look like us like a flying weasel, but it’s a traditional symbol of Brittany that signifies nobility, courage, honesty, uncompromising integrity, and personal honor. The ancient order was revived by the Cultural Institute of Brittany in the 20th century to honor people who contribute to Breton culture. The château, built in 1785, is a beautiful example of 18th century French architecture, and operated as the Hôtel Lagorce until 1803. It was then used as a private mansion until the French State purchased it in 1876 and proceeded to use it as an Artillery School and barracks for the XIth Army Corps, treasury, and university.

But the more interesting history of the site begins in 1380 when the Dukes of Brittany decided to use Vannes as their seat of power and ordered a castle with moat built and the ramparts surrounding the town, first erected by the Romans in the 5th century, improved. It served several generations of Dukes as their main residence until the late 1400s when François II, the last Duke of Brittany, moved his court to Nantes. During the early 1600s, the now-old castle was dismantled for its stones, which were used to build the quay at the port.

Skip ahead to March 2024 and the18th century château is now owned by the City of Vannes and construction has begun to renovate it and add a new wing for a project that will eventually be the Vannes Museum of Fine Arts – Chateau de l’Hermine. While excavating for new footings, workers uncovered well preserved walls, parts of a moat with drawbridge, and evidence that the castle had been three to four stories tall and had indoor toilets. We visited Vannes shortly before this discovery, but still marvel at the amazing things out there that are yet to be rediscovered.

A little farther along the Jardin des Remparts has the longest remaining section the city’s ancient defensive wall, with gates and towers, as their backdrop. The formal gardens are beautiful, with more than 30,000 flowers planted each year. It’s a popular spot to relax and walk dogs along the banks of the La Marla River before it reaches the port. The gardens are also used several times throughout the year to host various fairs and most importantly, the Fêtes Historiques de Vannes every July 12-14th. It’s a huge, festive cosplay event that celebrates Vannes’ rich history, and spreads into the historic center, with craft demonstrations, and participants and visitors wearing medieval clothing. The Porte Poterne gate is near the gardens, and entering the city one night across worn cobblestones glistening in a cold rain was an experience that transported us back centuries.

Later that first day in Vannes we were thrilled when we arrived at the Hôtel Le Bretagne and were able to find inexpensive street parking directly in front of it. The hotel abutted the rampart’s Executioner Tower and was ideally located just outside the historic old town, between the Porte de la Prison and Porte Saint-Jean gates. Vannes’ architectural continuity is unique among cities in France as it escaped the destructive aerial bombings of WWII, which ravaged many towns throughout the country.

Consequently, it has kept its rich architectural history intact. This was evident as we rounded the first corner from our hotel and entered the ancient citadel under the narrow-arched Porte Saint-Jean gate. In its earlier years it was known as the Porte du Mené, the Door of the Executioner, because of its close proximity to the axeman’s place of work. Fittingly, his tower was only a short walk down the alley from the Cathédrale Saint-Pierre, for the priests to give prisoners their last rites.

Built atop the ruins of an ancient Roman church, Saint-Pierre commands the highest point in the old town and blends Romanesque, Gothic, and neo-Gothic styles, which is what happens when a church is constructed, remodeled, expanded and restored from 1020 until 1857, when the carving of the façade was finally completed. It’s beautiful inside and out.

A short walk away, many fine examples of Vannes’ colorful,15th century, half-timbered buildings surround the Place Henri IV. A map isn’t needed to explore the ancient citadel. Wandering or “walk a little, then café,” as we like to say, is the perfect approach to discovering the town’s architectural gems and enjoying Vannes. After all, what’s the rush?

Wednesday and Saturday have been the traditional market days in Vannes for decades and the streets of the historic center fill with activity as folks shop among vendors selling housewares, clothing, breads, pastries, fruits and vegetables, wine, meat, sausages and CHEESE! Our weakness. Fromagers offering samples of soft and hard goat, sheep and cow cheeses with various ageing enticed us all too easily to purchase their products. Shopping there was a sensory experience that had us wishing we had opted for an apartment stay just so we could cook.

There are also two permanent food halls within the old town, Halle Aux Poissons, the fish market – is located down a side street just beyond the Porte Saint Vincent gate as you enter the city from the harbor. And the Halle des Lices, a large market hall with about thirty shopkeepers that is open Tuesday to Sunday from 8 am to 2 pm. It’s also a good place for breakfast or lunch.

The market takes its name from the Place des Lices on which it stands, though during the 14th and 15th centuries the Dukes of Brittany held jousts and tournaments there, between the Tour du Connétable, built for the commander of the Duke’s army, and the original Château de l’Hermine. The Tour du Connétable is a substantial tower that was part of the defensive wall that encircled Vannes, but what we found interesting was that you can still see where other ramparts intersected with the tower but were removed to reconfigure the fortifications as the city grew over time.

Only thirty minutes away, the Alignements de Carnac were an easy day trip from Vannes. We drove along D196 and followed a 1.6 mile route that started in a wooded glen at Alignements du Petit-Ménec and passed the alignments in Kerlescan, Kermario, and Toulchignan before ending at Carnac. It was a fascinating area with many opportunities to stop, touch and walk through the fields with over 3000 prehistoric standing stones.

Arranged in rows across a rolling landscape, the alignments are thought to have been erected around 4000BC, predating the 2500BC Stonehenge. Little is known of the Mesolithic hunter-gatherers that are thought to have erected the stones.

But a later Brittany Arthurian myth associated with them holds that they were a marching legion of Roman soldiers turned to stone by the sorcerer Merlin. Away from the road there is also a cycling/walking path through the countryside that paralleled our route. Afterwards we drove along the Trinité-sur-Mer waterfront, which we found reminiscent of coastal Maine.

Another day we drove a half-hour south from Vannes to the Domaine de Suscinio, one of the prettiest castles in Brittany, near the Bay of Biscay. It started as a modest seigneurial manor house for Peter I, Duke of Brittany, in 1218.  His son John I started to expand it and add fortifications, a building campaign that continued through successive Dukes until they moved their court to Vannes. Thereafter it was mostly used as a hunting lodge, unless there was a war in progress.

In the early 1500s it became the property of the French Crown and Francis I of France installed a favored mistress there. During the French Revolution, the now dilapidated castle was sold off to a stone quarry and its rocks were slowly carted away.

A dramatic restoration of the castle started in 1965, and was obviously a labor of love, that reflects the Bretonne pride in their heritage. It’s an exquisite space with many interesting, museum-quality displays. We thought the discovery of an intact, highly decorative, mosaic floor from the castle’s chapel, which was located across the moat, most intriguing.

Archeological excavations around the site are still ongoing and objects discovered, are restored and exhibited. Refreshingly there are plenty of hands-on things for kids to do, like dressing as Renaissance knights, squires or princesses. Medieval board games are also available for kids to try.

Beyond the ramparts there is a medieval encampment complete with re-enactors for families to explore. Wandering around the castle was thoroughly engaging and from the top of the battlements, you can see the Bay of Biscay. With the coast so close we wondered if Henry Tudor, future King Henry VII of England, landed there after he fled England, and spent 11 years in exile at Suscinio before returning to seize his crown in the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485.

Afterwards we headed to the Port du Crouesty marina in Arzon on the Peninsula Rhuys, surrounded by the Bay of Quiberon and Gulf of Morbihan. We sauntered along the port’s quay, admiring the boats docked in the marina, until we found Le Cap Horn. It was the perfect spot to enjoy some beers, and fresh seafood for dinner, our last meal in Brittany before heading home to the states.

We had a fantastic time exploring a small part of Brittany and hope one day to return to this charming, less explored, part of France.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Road Tripping Through Brittany: Saint Malo, Dinard & Dinan or For the Love of Oysters

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Tractors pulling wagons laden with huitres just harvested from the oyster beds of Cancale Bay now replaced the apple carts we passed two days ago in the Calvados region. Leaving Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy, we had entered Brittany in mid-October at the height of oyster season, which is traditionally considered the months that contain “r” in them, September – April. Our destination was Dinard, after stopping for lunch in Cancale, ground zero for huitres aquaculture in France. We had detoured from our route into Cherrueix to see the wide beach there that is popular for land-sailing, where specially designed three wheeled carts, outfitted with a sail, glide along the flat sand and attain high speed due to the strong winds that blow in off the ocean, filling their sails. But a windless day dampened that activity. The weather was pretty miserable that morning with intermittent squalls at times, limiting our explorations and photography. Our course diversion wasn’t a total loss as we found that the small village had several historic windmills and thatched roofed homes, which lent the town an unexpected Dutch and English feel.

Oyster connoisseurs enjoy Brittany oysters for their unique merroir. Just as wines derive a distinguishable terroir from the soil their grape vines grow in, oysters get their signature flavor from the saltiness and temperature of the seawater they are harvested from. The extreme, fast moving  tides, which Victor Hugo once described as “moving as swiftly as a galloping horse,” and cold water of Mont Saint-Michel Bay, which encompasses the ocean from Saint Malo, Brittany to the Cotentin Peninsula of Normandy, impart the oysters grown here with a sweet delicate flavor, which have won them fans the world over. Really, they are the best we’ve ever tasted, and we would order them whenever we saw them offered during our trip. They were also very affordable, which was a delight. Low tide along the coast revealed the extensive network of oyster farm pilings that support the growth of over 5,000 tons of succulent huitres a year.

Oysters have been gathered along the coast of Brittany since this region of France was part of the Roman Empire 2000 years ago. As with all ancient agrarian traditions, women have played a vital role harvesting oysters and Cancale’s town plaza hosts a bronze statue commemorating them. The day we visited, and it took us a while to figure out why, the female figures of the memorial were adorned in pink aprons. Turns out this was in recognition of France’s Breast Cancer Awareness Day, which happens every October. At lunch in a small establishment on the square, of course we slurped a dozen oysters, with just a touch of shallot mignonette sauce. They were divine. On Cancale’s waterfront there is also a daily Marche aux Huitres, surprisingly this oyster market which is open year-round. That old tradition of eating oysters only during the ‘r’ months dates back to King Louis XV in the 1700’s when refrigeration wasn’t possible, and it was unsafe to consume them during the warmer months. It’s also a matter of preference as the texture of the oyster becomes creamier during the warmer months, but today in France they are consumed year-round.

The late afternoon sun was shining brilliantly by the time we arrived in Dinard, found a free parking space on the street, and checked into the Hôtel du Parc Dinard, our home for four nights. The popular vacation spot is practically a ghost town in the fall, with most of its elegant Victorian-era homes battened down tight awaiting winter storms. The quietness was perfect for us, and the town would be our base for visiting Saint-Malo, a short distance away across the Rance Estuary, and farther inland the ancient riverport town of Dinan.

A former fishing village, Dinard was transformed into a vacation hotspot, when the French gentry, wealthy Americans, and British aristocrats discovered its picturesque beaches, and cliffside walks in the late-nineteenth century. A pleasant mild climate, influenced by the nearby warm waters of the Atlantic gulf stream helped set its reputation as “the Pearl of the Emerald Coast.” A who’s who list of celebrities – Picasso, Gary Grant, Joan Collins, Winston Churchill, and Oscar Wilde – frequented the seaside resort. The British film director Alfred Hitchcock visited often enough that the town erected a statue in his honor. Film legend believes he based the house in the film “Psycho,” on one of the town’s elegant mansions and the movie “Birds,” partly on experiences with raucous seagulls along the cliffs here. His relationship with the town led to the establishment of the Dinard Festival of British & Irish Film. Now in its 35th year, it’s held early in October. Prize winners receive a golden Hitchcock statuette.

One of France’s most “British resorts,” the town’s luster faded in the 1960’s when the “jet set” discovered the Mediterranean beaches of southern France. Fortunately, the town has been rediscovered as a holiday destination and today attracts folks looking for vacation rentals in the now sub-divided mansions, who appreciate its quite ambiance and location along the Cote d’Emeraude of Brittany.

One of the best ways to enjoy the town, in any season, is to follow the Coastal Path of Dinard, a 5-mile-long improved trail that hugs the rocky coastline, passes sandy coves and fascinating old architecture. From our hotel we broke our walk into two manageable segments and included a stop at the weekly market one day to purchase supplies for a picnic lunch for later in the day. One afternoon we drove west along the backroads to Saint-Briac-sur-Mer. Here we could see the extreme tides of the Brittany coast, which left boats at their moorings high and dry at low tide.

Just across the water from Dinard the old fortress city of Saint-Malo still guards the natural harbor created by the La Rance estuary as it enters the Gulf of Saint-Malo and the English Channel.  Its ramparts have remained mostly unscathed since their first construction in the 12th century, in order to deter feared Viking attacks. Centuries later the Corsairs of Saint-Malo, French privateers serving the King of France, would pillage foreign ships sailing the English Channel, or extort a transit tax from them, then flee the scene of the crime and seek refuge from the pursuing English Navy under the cannons along Saint-Malo’s ramparts. This tactic was so annoying to the British that they launched an amphibious naval assault against the Saint-Malo corsairs in 1758, but determined the city’s ramparts were impenetrable and instead attacked the nearby town of Saint-Servan and destroyed 30 of the pirate’s ships there.

Outlaws to the English and Dutch, the corsairs of Saint-Malo had more nuanced careers and were well respected as explorers and merchants in France, enriching the town and serving the interests of several French kings over the centuries. Departing from Saint-Malo, Jacques Cartier sailed down the St. Lawerence River and claimed the discovery of Canada for France in the 16th century and sacked a few vessels along the way. Jacques Gouin de Beauchêne would lead the first French expedition into the South Atlantic, raid Rio de Janeiro, find the Falkland Islands, sail through the Strait of Magellan, visit the Galapagos Islands and return to the Atlantic Ocean by sailing west to east across the treacherous waters of Cape Horn. Other corsairs helped establish trade with ports along the west coast of Africa, Southeast Asia and the Pacific, which would evolve into French colonies. Corsair Duguay-Trouin led a Moka expedition to Yemen in the early 1700s, returned with the legendary coffee beans, and French society was changed forever: the café tradition had begun. Saint-Malo prospered.

Walking atop the ramparts that encircle the ancient citadel, it’s difficult to imagine that this beautiful city lay in ruins in September 1944. The D-Day invasion of Normandy had happened three months earlier, but well dug-in German forces, led by a commander who swore to defend the Third Reich to the last man, refused to surrender their reinforced positions in Saint-Malo. It took a relentless, months long campaign of allied aerial and artillery bombardment for the Germans to concede defeat.  The ramparts still stood, but 683 of the town’s 865 historic buildings were leveled, its 6,000 inhabitants homeless. The mayor at the time, Guy Lachambre, petitioned vigorously for the reconstruction council and its architects Marc Brillaud de Laujardière and Louis Arretche not to modernize the war-torn town, but to respect the ancient medieval character of the city and retain its maze of alleys, granite facades and steep slate roofs. It took two years to painstakingly remove the rubble, before rebuilding could start. Workers cataloged the ruins like an archaeological excavation, numbering each brick and stone, so that town’s original building materials could be reused, when possible, to authentically resurrect it from its ashes. Major reconstruction lasted until 1960; however, the Cathédrale de Saint-Malo, the final resting place for the famous Corsairs Jacques Cartier and René Duguay-Trouin, didn’t acquire its new steeple until 1971. The church’s spire, rightfully returned to its place of honor on the citadel’s skyline, was once again a welcome landmark for sailors returning from the sea. Renewed prosperity returned to Saint-Malo in the mid-1960s when folks rediscovered the seaside town as a great place to rent a vacation flat in apartments now vacated by families that moved away during the reconstruction years.

The views from atop the ramparts of the sea and the citadel were great. It’s an easy 1.4 mile loop around the ramparts, with many gateways that descend back into to the walled city or out onto the surrounding beach. At low tide it’s possible to walk across a sandy peninsula to the nearby 17th century Fort Natioinal, or to the small island Grand Bé, where the French writer François-René de Chateaubriand is buried, but be careful not to get stuck out there during an incoming high tide. Afterwards, back in town we found a rustic bar with a fire going in its stove and warmed ourselves with snifters of Calvados and café.

During the high season, parking in Saint-Malo can be problematic. However, if you are staying in Dinard it’s possible to take the small ferry across to the “The Corsair City.” If you are looking for a good read, the book All the Light We Cannot See, written by Anthony Doerr, evocatively tells an intriguing and mysterious story of life during WWII in Saint-Malo.

Traveling 30 minutes south from Dinard, we seemed to have arrived in the 14th century. We were greeted by an equestrian statue of the famous French general Bertrand du Guesclin, which towered above us in the car park. He was known for his many victories over the English during the Hundred Years War. He was so well regarded that upon his death, in 1380, he was given a royal funeral, his body quartered for burial, a practiced usually reserved for France’s kings. “His heart was buried in Dinan in his native Brittany, his entrails were buried in Puy, his flesh at Montferrand, and his skeleton in the tomb of St. Denis outside Paris.” We were off to an interesting start.

Somehow having escaped the destruction that befell Saint-Malo, Dinan’s historic center is filled with charming leaning, half-timbered medieval buildings dating from the 13th to 16th centuries, and shares an ambiance that felt more akin to Rouen than its neighbors Saint-Malo and Dinard.  This morning the narrow-cobbled alleys were busy with activity, modern shops behind the ancient facades, replacing the craftsmen and guild merchants of this market town and riverport who traded with Spain, England, Holland, and the new world colonies.

Our “walk a little, then café,” led us to Marcel, on Rue de la Cordonnerie, a delightful patisserie, where between cheerfully serving customers, the staff was photographing their artistic, mouthwatering temptations to post to the store’s Instagram page. Outside it could have been 1305 or 1673; only folks’ clothing had changed.

Farther along, stores had their merchandise displayed along the sidewalks under the porches of the buildings. This style resulted from the tax code at the time when merchants’ stores were taxed based on their ground floor square footage, but were allowed to expand outward on the higher floors.

Polished from a millennium of footfalls, the cobbled lanes in Dinan glowed with different tones and hues, especially apparent on the damp overcast day we followed the long Rue du Jerzual downhill to the Port de Dinan. It’s an amazing street lined with a vast array of interesting buildings and a tower gate, which was once part of the ramparts which encircled upper Dinan.

The waters of the La Rance river were calm and reflected the boats docked along the waterfront and the emerging autumn colors on the hillside above the river. Here the tributary narrows, no longer navigable for larger ships, a single arch stone bridge allowing only small recreational boats to proceed upstream to the pretty village of Léhon. A bike and footpath also follow the contour of the river to the village, only a 30 minute walk away.

We lunched outside along the quay trying some garlicky escargot and enjoyed the now-sunny afternoon. We were dreading the long uphill walk back and had asked at the restaurant to arrange for a cab, but they cheerfully informed us there was no need as a local small bus stopped just over the bridge and would take us back to the historic center.

The driver stopped at the Basilique Saint-Sauveur for us. Built in the early 1100s, it retained its Roman style façade during a 15th century expansion. But we only had a few moments for outside shots before a late afternoon thunderstorm chased us inside.

The inside has an impressive altar and artworks, while the interior architecture reflects a church renovated over several centuries. One side features Romanesque arches, though the other side displays a Gothic influence.

Rain kept us from walking through the Jardin Anglais, an English-style garden behind the town’s ramparts, with views across the La Rance river valley. We wrapped up a wonderful day in Dinan at the Château de Dinan, once a palace and fortress for the Dukes of Brittany in the 14th and 15th centuries. We seemed to have just scratched the surface of this intriguing town. And looking back it would have been a more interesting locale for a four-night stay.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

France: Road Tripping Through Normandy – Fecamp, Yport & Étretat

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Overnight showers had cleansed the air, the morning was brilliant with sunshine, and the deep blue sky was checkered with fair weather clouds. We were road tripping west through flat farmlands and pasturelands, which were lined with rows of beech trees to protect the land from the ferocious winds of winter storms. The landscape was dotted with Normande, a breed of dairy cow descended from the cattle that the Vikings brought with them when they settled in the area during the 9th century. A white cow, speckled with brown patches, this breed is favored for its milk’s high fat content, which lends itself perfectly for making CHEESE! More specifically the PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) Camemberts, Livarots, Pont-l’Evêques and Neufchâtels that the Normandy region is famous for. Small signs for fromage and cider pointed down many dirt lanes that spurred off our route.

We were heading to the white cliffs of Fecamp and Yport, in the Seine-Maritime department of Normandy, on the English Channel. While planning this trip we read about high season – over-tourism running rampant across France. Crowds don’t appeal to us, so we’ve been planning our travels to coincide with a destination’s shoulder season for a while now. The articles also suggested visiting places off the usual tourist radar, which is how we came across Fecamp and Yport, our stops before reaching Étretat. In hindsight we should have planned a full afternoon or overnight stay in Fecamp, as the quick glimpses of the Palais Ducal, now ruins, and the Holy Trinity Abbey, as we drove through the historic center, revealed a pretty town and looked intriguing, worthy of further exploration.

Our “walk a little then café,” becomes “drive a little then café,” when we have wheels, and by the time we entered Fecamp it was time to satisfy that late morning craving. Parking in unfamiliar towns is always a challenge, and on a busy Saturday even more so, but we lucked out and found both a parking space and great café near the harbor. The sunny outside tables at Le Coffee de Clo were empty so we were surprised when we entered to see a lively shop nearly full of people busily enjoying the decadent sweet creations we had stumbled across. More muffin than pastry, the baked goods and excellent coffee here are the only excuse you need to detour to Fecamp.

Walking back to the car, we spotted the Chapelle Notre-Dame du Salut, across the harbor, high atop Cap Fagnet. It’s believed that Robert the Magnificent, an 11th century Duke of Normandy, constructed the church in thanks to God for surviving a shipwreck in the waters below the white cliffs of Cap Fagnet. It’s been a pilgrimage site for fishermen, sailors, and their families ever since.

The views from the terrace in front of the church of Fecamp’s harbor, and the southern half of La Côte d’Albâtre, the Alabaster Coast, take in an 80-mile stretch of white cliffs between Etretat and Dieppe on the Normandy coast, that mirrors the distant White Cliffs of Dover across the channel. Locally the cliffs around Fecamp are known as le Pays des Hautes Falaises, high cliff country.

In 1066, William of Normandy set sail from Fecamps’ harbor with a fleet of more than 700 ships, partly financed by the Abbott of Fecamp, to claim the Crown of England, which he had inherited, but this was being contested by Harold, a pretender to the throne.  The issue was settled at the Battle of Hastings when the former became King William the Conqueror. It was also reassuring to learn that the Fecamp monks transitioned away from being international arms merchants, and segued into a more appropriate occupation –  running a distillery in the 16th century, that produced a 27-herb flavored liqueur that would become popular in the mid-1800s and sold as Le Grand Bénédictine.

Eight hundred seventy-eight years after William set sail, on June 6, 1944, during WWII German fortifications along the Côte d’Albâtre failed against an allied amphibious invasion fleet of over 7000 ships and landing craft. It was the beginning of the end of WWII. Scrambling to the top of an abandoned bunker provided us with the perfect vantage point for photos of the coast.

By the time we arrived in Yport the clouds had thickened and were threatening to rain. To our dismay, it poured just as we were parking by the beach promenade. Fortunately, it was an intense but brief shower that cleared into a cloudless sky and revealed a quaint picturesque hamlet and shining white cliffs towering above the sea.

The cliffs along the seafront have been eroding for eons, creating in certain spots deep, long ravines that funneled torrents of water, laden with sand and stone through the cliff face to the ocean, which created beaches in certain places over the ages. These narrow valleys are called valleuses, and the small coastal fishing village of Yport started in one during the Neolithic era.

Without a harbor, fishermen pushed their small boats across a pebbled beach and rowed out through the waves to pursue their livelihood. They repaired their boats and mended their nets on the beach at the foot of the town. This way of life supported the villagers for centuries. Only the invention of the small outboard motor in the early 1900s eased their physical effort, until the 1960s when tourism and a small casino replaced fishing as the town’s driving economic force.

In 1838, the tightly knit community decided to build a church. Men, women, and children gathered tons of smooth stones from the beach, carted them 500m inland, and proudly worked together to mix cement and build the center piece of their town. Horizontally striped with alternating layers of colored beach stones, the façade of the church is beautiful, and unique in Normandy. It is a true testament to the power of community spirit.

By the mid-1800s Parisians seeking a more relaxing retreat than Etretat were frequenting the quiet fishing village. The French painters Monet, Renoir, Schuffenecker, and Vernier visited and painted there, while the 19th century French writer Guy de Maupassant set his novel, ‘Une Vie,’ in Yport. Paths from the center of the town and from behind the casino lead to the cliff tops and join the popular GR21 trail that can be followed north to Fecamp or south to Etretat.

Regardless of how beautiful photos of the Falaise d’Aval are, they don’t rival the physical reality of the calling gulls, wind-swept hair, the whistling wind and the relentless sound of the surf crashing against the stoney beach.

Arriving late on a Saturday afternoon in mid-October, we were surprised Étretat was jammed with tourists. Parking is extremely limited here and finding a space is almost a competitive sport that ultimately just required us to sit in a row and wait for someone to return to their car. It sorted itself quickly enough and luckily, we were only a short walk from one of Étretat’s first lodgings, the Hotel Le Rayon Vert, which to our delight was directly across from the beach and Étretat’s promenade. After checking in, we headed to the top of the towering 300ft high cliffs for sunset, the first of many walks along this beautiful stretch of coast and the perfect way to work up an appetite.

If you have been following this blog, you’ll know my superpower is the ability to find a great pâtisserie, pastelería or pastry shop. It’s a great talent when the hotel wants 16€ per person for breakfast. In Etretat, the boulangerie patisserie “Le Petit Accent” exceeded all expectations!

Set high above the town, it was a steep uphill walk to the Jardins d’Etretat. This whimsical topiary garden, with playful faces as “Drops of Rain,” by the Spanish artist Samuel Salcedo, more so than the Falaise d’Aval, was the catalyst for visiting this seaside resort.

This magical spot has its roots over 100 hundred years ago when a villa and garden were built here by Madame Thébault, a Parisian actress, and friend of the impressionist painter, Claude Monet. Madame Thébault cultivated a circle of creative folks as friends, and Monet along with other painters and writers were her frequent guests. It was from a patio in this garden that Monet found repeated inspiration to capture the essence Les Falaises à Étretat.  His love of the area is evident in the nearly 90 canvases he painted depicting various scenes along the Normandy coast. But the Jardins d’Etretat today are a relatively new botanical masterpiece reopening in 2017 after an expansive reinterpretation led by the landscape architect, Alexander Grivko.

Across from the entrance to the garden, a tall soaring monument pointing skyward, elegant in its simplicity, commands a view out over the cliffs and the ocean beyond. This tribute commemorates the last sighting from French soil of the pilots Charles Nungesser and François Coli on May 8th, 1927. They were flying their biplane L’Oiseau Blanc, The White Bird, from Paris to New York in an attempt to be the first non-stop flight across the Atlantic Ocean and win the Orteig Prize of $25,000. But they disappeared somewhere along their route. It’s believed they made it across the Atlantic, but crashed into the dense wilderness forest of Nova Scotia or Maine. Wreckage of L’Oiseau Blanc has never been found and their disappearance remains an unsolved aviation mystery, that rivals Amelia Earhart’s story.  If Nungesser and Coli had succeeded, they would have beaten Charles Lindbergh in the Spirit of St. Louis by twelve days.

The Notre Dame de la Garde stands alone on the slope below the Monument “L’Oiseau Blanc,” isolated on the cliffs like a small boat surrounded by a vast ocean, its spire like a lighthouse’s guiding beacon, visible far out at sea. It offers a welcome sign for the fishermen and sailors returning home. Unfortunately, it was undergoing renovation when we visited in mid-October.

Walking back through the village we found the Normandy architecture in Etretat intriguing. It encompasses many different styles and runs the gamut from ancient half-timbered buildings embellished with ornate wood carvings, to 18th and19th century designs utilizing the local hard flintstone and incorporating steep pitched slate roofs and turrets into their designs. All fascinating.    

Etretat has been a popular destination since rail service began between the port city of Le Havre and Paris in 1847. Swimming or a day at the beach later became common place with the latest fashion, the full body bathing suits. While society folks were sunbathing on the stoney beach, there was a cottage industry of locals, called pebblers. They collected the beach stones for their high silicone content, which were then pulverized and used for various industrial purposes. It’s now illegal to remove any pebbles from the beach as they are vital natural protection against storm surges and marine submersion of the promenade built across the top of the beach, which is much easier walk on than trekking across the pebbly beach, where each footstep sinks into the loose stones and is exhausting to cross.

The classic 19th seaside resort continues to draw visitors, with the success of the French Netflix series Lupin, based on the writer Maurice Leblanc’s character, Arsène Lupin, the gentleman burglar. Leblanc’s former summer home, where he wrote some of his books, is now the Le Clos Arsène Lupin Museum. Some scenes were filmed locally, motivating a whole new generation to discover the white cliffs. The other French writers and composers who enjoyed their time in the quaint village include Victor Hugo, Guy de Maupassant, and Jacques Offenbach, all of whom are remembered with streets named in their honor.

We also enjoyed our time along the Côte d’Albâtre, but just seemed to scratch the surface of this beautiful part of Normandy.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Tenerife Part 4: Pico del Teide, La Orotava, Puerto de la Cruz & Beyond

| 2suitcasesfor2years

The silhouette of the ancient volcano mesmerized us. Even in the dark blues and blacks of the night the volcano’s majestic silhouette loomed large above Icod de Vinos. Later the moon rose and contributed a magical otherworldliness to our vista. During the winter when its 12,000 ft summit is snow covered and there is a full moon, it’s said to shine like the beacon of a lighthouse that can be seen from the coast of Morocco. The aboriginal Guanches believed Pico del Teide held up the sky and placed offerings on the volcano’s slopes to appease Guayota, an evil deity they believed responsible for its volcanic eruptions. We made our own photographic pilgrimage to Teide as we drove to the Hotel Alhambra in La Orotava, our base for the remainder of our vacation. Though not the most direct route from Icod de los Vino to La Orotava via Pico del Teide it was, I can assure you, the most interesting.

Teide is still considered an active volcano and while its cone hasn’t erupted in the last 850 years, side vents on its slopes have spewed destructive massive lava flows across its slopes in 1492, which Columbus noted in his logbook as he sailed on his maiden voyage of discovery, 1704,1705, 1706, 1798 and 1909. Our route on TF-5 cut across the lava field left from the 1909 El Chinyero vent eruption. Now over one-hundred years later new growth pines are just beginning to emerge from this carnage. Their verdant green needles, a refreshing sign of life in an otherwise barren landscape. Crossing the ridge of the mountains we descended into Santiago del Teide. The main road was lined with several inviting spots to stop for café! (We didn’t realize at the time, but this was also our last chance for lunch, as many places normally open in high season are closed or only open on the weekends in the shoulder seasons.)

After coffee we visited the town’s church, Parroquia de San Fernando Rey. It’s a small, whitewashed structure constructed in the late 1600s and has an interesting collection of religious art. Across the street stands a life-size statue called “the brave Guanche,” dedicated to Alonso Diaz, a goatherd, who in 1509 stood up for his rights and successfully petitioned Spain’s King Fernando the Catholic for justice, after 200 goats were stolen from him by a Spanish conquistador. By royal decree the goats were returned.

Venturing into the foothills, our drive continued along TF-38 and traversed an ever-changing, diverse bio-system as we left the arid shrub-covered lowlands behind and climbed into hillsides covered with pine forests. It was a well paved but narrow serpentine road, without any shoulder, that required constant vigilance. The mouths of ancient lava tunnels were visible from the road, but there was no room to pull over and stop for photos until we reached the Mirador de los Poleos. Here the raw beauty in these charcoal-colored landscapes flourished beneath the Chinyero Volcano, and we had a chance to walk across the lunar-like terrain, part of the immense lava field from its 1909 eruption. Dotted with huge boulders, it was difficult to comprehend the ferocious forces required to expel these massive rocks from their subterranean origin.

Continuing on, we had encountered what we thought was fog until, to our surprise, we emerged above the clouds at Mirador de Samara.

This area is also very popular for hiking, with many very obvious trails crisscrossing through a young forest emerging from the volcanic soil left from Pico Viejo’s last, 92 days long, eruption in 1798.

Approaching noon, we turned toward Vilaflor, the highest village, at 4600ft, on Pico del Teide’s southern slope and surrounded by vineyards. The surrounding wineries produce some of Tenerife’s best wines from Listán Negro, Malvasia, Negramoll, and Listán Blanco grapes. And are embodied with a distinctive terroir from the warm climate and fertile volcanic soil. The weather had suddenly turned gray and dreary. More frustrating though, the wineries we had planned to visit were closed mid-week during the shoulder season. Fortunately, we happened upon Mar de Nubes, a craft store and café run by a friendly young married couple from Tenerife and the States. The shop features only handicrafts made by Canarians and local wines and artisanal beers. Of course, we shopped.

Beautiful, inhospitable, Death Valley-esque, lunar or Martian, however you choose to describe the varied topography that surrounds Pico del Teide’s, it’s enthralling and fascinating. So much so that filmmakers have used the location for scenes in several block buster films: One Million Years B.C. – 1966, Planet of the Apes – 1968, Clash of the Titans – 2010 and its 2012 sequel Wrath of the Titans, and in 2023 the Last Triala, a Star Wars fan film.  TV episodes of Doctor Who, The Dark Along the Ways and season 2 of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power have incorporated Tiede’s environs into their productions.

Driving back up the mountain we continued on to view the large sculptural outcroppings at the Mirador de La Ruleta and the desert-like dunes of the Siete Cañadas hiking area, before following the long downward grade of the road to La Orotava. We speculated that if you dropped a soccer ball at the top of the slope, it would bounce downhill continually until it splashed into the ocean at Puerto de la Cruz, roughly 23 miles away. Our route along TF-21 cut through forests ravaged by the wildfires of 2023. The blackened trees were the only scars in the otherwise pristine wilderness of the Tiede’s northern slope in Parque Natural Corona Forestal.

Late in the day we coasted into our parking space in front of Hotel Alhambra. Parking on the streets in La Orotava is free, but it’s a competitive sport. We chose to stay at this hotel for its distinctive architecture and location in the historic center. While the exterior of the 500-year-old dwelling is quietly classical, the interior walls of its Canarian-style courtyard were beautifully transformed in 1925 with intricate floral and geometric Nasrid art designs, created with gebs plasterwork and enclosed under a high glass roof. An eclectic decorating theme is highlighted with frescos by Maestro Antonio Otazzo, a local self-described painter, sculptor, musician, philosopher, and poet. As if being followed by a friendly giant, Pico del Teide was in our line of sight when we opened the shutters on our room’s window.

La Orotava was rather easy to walk around if we were walking across the slope, but after several days our hamstrings and calves were sore, though our butts were firmer. “Walk a little then café,” as we say was the perfect approach to exploring this wonderful town.

Along with San Cristóbal de La Laguna, it’s considered to be one of the prettiest towns on Tenerife.

Getting to the higher points in town we asked the hotel to call for a cab, for a quick ride to the Jardines del Marquesado de la Quinta Roja. Once part of an estate, it’s named after the noble interred in the park’s marble mausoleum; as a member of the Masonic Temple his family was not allowed to bury him in the town’s catholic cemetery. Constructed in 1883, the garden is a beautiful French-style, terraced, formal garden with a view over the town and the distant sea. A smaller but older (1788) sister park next to it, the Hijuela del Botánico, features a towering dragon tree and other plantings of specimen trees collected from Spain’s former colonies.  And if you are in awe of dragon trees, as we are, the Villa de La Orotava Dragon Tree Tour might be for you.

From the gardens we wandered downhill along cobbled lanes, past wonderful examples of colorful Canarian architecture, into the historic old town, which is centered around the Nuestra Señora de la Concepción. Started in 1516, it is the town’s oldest and largest church, with its colorful dome giving the town its iconic skyline.

But La Orotava’s history starts early in 1496 with the final defeat of Tenerife’s aboriginal Guanches at the battle of Aguere, after which their leader committed suicide by jumping off a cliff in nearby Tigaiga. “To the victor go the spoils,” and the fertile lands of the Guanche kingdom of Taoro were awarded to the nobles, conquistadors and financiers who participated in the Spanish victory.

The rich soil of the hillside was perfect for the cultivation of sugarcane and the steep streams from the mountain were soon harnessed to run sugar and lumber mills. Prosperity followed. Ice from Mt. Tiede chilled the drinks of the town’s wealthy.

Landowners and merchants built large family mansions in a style which would become known as Canarian, which feature interior courtyards and distinctive facades with decorative wooden balconies and the family’s Coat of Arms prominently facing the street. Convents housed the daughters from families that didn’t want to diminish their wealth by paying the dowry for the girls’ wedding, as was the custom of the time. 

Vines and wine replaced sugar cane and ruled the town’s economy in the 17th century. In the mid-1800s, the textile mills of Europe were searching for different dyes, and mealybugs or cochineal were bred in cactus around La Orotava and harvested to obtain a crimson dye, produced from an acid that the bug makes to fight off predators. Since the late 1800s, vast banana plantations thriving on Tenerife’s mineral-rich volcanic soil continue to bring prosperity to the island and La Orotava, enabling the community to restore its historic buildings.

Not wanting to miss anything on Tenerife, we planned day trips from La Orotava around visiting coastal miradors and following any whims along the way. The Mirador Punta Del Hidalgo was not our favorite photographic destination, but we did enjoy stopping at the crescent shaped, black sand beach at Playa del Arenal in Bajamar, and a farmer’s market, Mercadillo del Agricultor in Tacoronte. Here we purchased some pastries for a snack and some Tuno Indio juice made from the purple fruit of the Canarian Red Prickly Pear. The cactus was brought to the Canary Islands from the Americas centuries ago and has been used in Canarian folk medicine to lower blood sugar and treat other ailments. It also has antiviral, anti-inflammatory, antioxidant, and anti-ulcerogenic properties. It tastes pretty good.

Afterwards we headed to the Mirador La Garañona in El Sauzal. Set dramatically atop a 1000ft sheer cliff, there’s a tremendous view of the coast below. And the park’s shaded paths led to a delightful small café perched at the cliff edge. We lingered and soaked in the view.

On the way to the mirador, we whizzed passed a small neighborhood restaurant set by itself on a corner, and decided to try it on our return trip. But first we had one last stop to make on the way at the Iglesia de Santa Catalina. It’s a classic, white-washed church from the early 1500s and picture perfect with its magnificent dragon tree in front.

Lunch at Restaurante el Calvario was delightful, with excellent house wine and menu featuring traditional Canarian dishes. A young friendly staff, tolerant of our poor Spanish, contributed to a very enjoyable afternoon.

Puerto de la Cruz, just down the hill from La Orotava, was the destination for our last day trip. Originally a small fishing village, the town grew in importance after the main harbor on the north coast of Tenerife in Garachico was filled with lava from a 1706 volcanic eruption. Close to La Orotava, it also benefited from that town’s thriving economy, with the export of sugar, wine and bananas from its port. It has been a popular vacation spot since the Victorian era. Now it attracts visitors and expats from across Europe, drawn to its cosmopolitan vibe, wide beaches, quaint historic center, numerous parks, and vast array of restaurants.

Giant three-hundred-year-old fig trees, planted when the park first opened in the 18th century, are king here. Shaded pathways thread through a cornucopia of verdant jungle, flowers, and water garden. We enviously wished that we could grow everything in our garden at home.

In the historic center we had coffee across from the majestic Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Peña de Francia and afterwards were able to catch a glimpse of a bride and groom taking their vows. Their antique wedding car waiting under gently swaying palm trees on the plaza in front of the church.

The waterfront in Puerto de la Cruz is beautiful and there are numerous beaches and tidal pools along the coast where you can swim. We strolled along the promenade above the black sand beaches at Playa Maria Jiménez, and Playa Chica to El Castillo San Felipe, a small block fortress built in the 1600s to prevent pirates or the British from landing on the beach here. We lunched along the boardwalk under umbrellas just yards from the surf.

Stopping at the Mirador Roger Piedra Gorda and Mirador Roque Grande rounded out the afternoon. Though parking was a challenge at both spots, we think the effort was worth it for the dramatic seacapes we viewed.

That evening we drove up into the hills above La Orotava and enjoyed a great meal at Bodegón Casa Matías. It’s a rustic establishment, decorated with wine barrels and antique farming tools to acknowledge the history of the region. The chefs and owners, a vivacious husband and wife team, are part of Tenerife’s farm to table movement, sourcing only local meats, including rabbit and goat, fish, cheeses, and seasonal vegetables for their traditional Canarian recipes.

For our last full day on Tenerife, we headed to El Médano to be nearer the airport for a flight the following morning. Arriving late in the afternoon to Playa del Médano we entertained ourselves watching wind and kite surfers speed across the whitecaps. The more experienced kiters crested the waves and performed aerobatics before splashing back into the sea.

Closer to town, families favored the gentler waves, wider beach, and a view of Montaña Roja volcano on the horizon. Tables at eateries along the boardwalk were quickly filling as the golden hour approached.

A crescent beach, gentle waves, good wine and delicious seafood – is there a better way to end the day? We’ll miss Tenerife.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Tenerife Part 3: Garachico & Buenavista del Norte – A Wonderful Coastal Drive

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Our drive along the coast started in the small harbor of Icod de los Vinos. From the start the sea vistas were beautiful, with crisp clarity and saturated blues and brilliant white breakers crashing against the rocky coast. The lighthouse on the remote headland Punta de Teno was our destination. Though only sixteen miles away, it took a good part of the morning with all the frequent photo stops we were making as we proceeded. The spectacular scenery along this short drive rivals the Pacific Coast Highway in California and Chapman’s Peak Drive outside Cape Town, South Africa or the Amalfi Coast of Italy. Just epic!

A few minutes from Icod de los Vinos along TF-42, we stopped at Mirador El Guincho which overlooks the coastal homes, banana plantations, and the new Port of Garachico. Constructed in 2012 behind a large breakwater, it is the only harbor on the north side of Tenerife. Beyond the harbor the extinct volcano Montaña de Taco highlights the horizon, its crater now used as a reservoir.

Enthused by what we glimpsed as we passed through Garachico, we decided to keep with our original plan to go to our farthest destination first and then return later to linger in the quaint town.

“Drive a little, then café.” We were ready to stop by the time we reached Buenavista del Norte and easily found parking around the Plaza de los Remedios. Sitting in the shade, we ordered coffees from the café under the park’s gazebo. It’s a classic Canarian town with colorful two and three story homes. What’s unusual though is the town sits on flat land! Something that is in short supply on this mountainous island. It’s only access to the sea was from the small rocky landing at Playa de las Barqueras, where for centuries supplies were rowed ashore from passing merchant ships. Nearby set along the dramatic coastline is the Buenavista Golf Course, designed by the famous Spanish golfer, Seve Ballesteros.

The Church of Nuestra Señora de los Remedios stands across from the plaza and has played a significant role in the town’s history since its cornerstone was laid in 1516, most importantly when the townspeople filled the church in 1659 and prayed to the statue of La Virgen de los Remedios to stop a plague of locust which was ravaging their crops. According to history the plague stopped. Sadly in 1996, that historic statue and many other centuries-old religious treasures were lost in a fire that destroyed the church.

It’s very easy to speed by and miss, but on the outskirts of town on Cruz de Toledo at its intersection with TF-445 there is a statue of a locust atop a tall column with the anagram of the Virgen de los Remedios, and the dates 1659-2015 which commemorate that event. Every fifth year a procession from the church carries the virgin’s statue out to the locust monument. 

We continued towards Punta de Teno only to be stopped by a manned roadblock across the pavement, just shy of Mirador Punta del Fraile. Only buses and taxis were allowed to travel the road farther; we weren’t told why. Even Google map drivers have been prohibited from making the journey. There was a small dirt parking area next to the gatehouse and we could see a few folks walking the long incline to the mirador. We followed. It was about a thirty minute, moderately strenuous walk, and the views were awesome. It was well worth our effort. Gale force winds whipped through a cut in the rock which the road followed down to the lighthouse at Punta de Teno, three miles away. Behind us a large cliff face blocked most of the view of the Teno headland. It’s a barren peninsular without tourist amenities, just a lonely lighthouse and modern wind turbine farm, the blades of which must turn furiously 24hrs a day, if it’s as blustery there as it was at Mirador Punta del Fraile. Hold your hats!

The views returning to Garachico were equally as impressive as the morning sights, and we stopped several times before entering the old town.

As prosperous as the Canary Islands are today, we were reminded by the statue at the Mirador del Emigrante that life here was not always easy. This poetic description by Fernando García Ramos, the sculptor, explains for the viewer the meaning behind his statue of a walking man – with a hole in his chest, as if in his heart – holding a suitcase. “The figure is scanning the horizon, in a daring position, as if pretending to jump over the sea, with a suitcase in hand, and many more suitcases in a series as a chain behind him; these suitcases behind him surely mean the memories, the sadnesses, the nostalgia, the girlfriend, the mother, the sisters, the families that are left behind by an emigrant who takes a new life, who jumps over the infinite sea, in search of a new life in strange and distant lands.”

Occasionally we spotted colorful red rock crabs scurrying about as walked along the waterfront to the Castillo de San Miguel, a square block fortress built from quarried lava rock in 1575 to protect Garachico’s port from French, Dutch and Arab pirate attacks, along with the threat of British invasion.

For two hundred years Garachico’s harbor was the most important commercial port in the Canary Islands. Its citizenry accumulated wealth through prosperous imports and exports from Spain’s New World colonies and Europe. It was a prestigious town with many warehouses and shops, fine homes, convents, and churches.

This ended on May 5th, 1706, when Volcan Arenas Negras, a vent volcano on Mt. Tiede’s lower slope, erupted and spewed lava down a ravine that led directly into the town and harbor. Amazingly, no lives were lost, but a great number of the town’s historic buildings as well as four convents were destroyed, buried under lava that flowed into the town for nine days. Buildings close to the lava flow caught fire and burned to the ground. The fortress narrowly escaped, but it lost its relevance when the harbor was filled with lava and ships could no longer anchor there. With the loss of the harbor, merchant ships shifted to Puerto de la Cruz, folks left and Garachico evolved into a fishing village until the tourist economy on Tenerife took off in the 1960’s, embracing tourism so enthusiastically that the town recently constructed an ocean front municipal pool open to all along the promenade.

Walking into the center of town, we admired several noteworthy historic buildings:, Convento de San Francisco (1524,) and its church the Iglesia de Santa Cruz de Tenerife; Casa Palacio de Los Condes de La Gomera (1666.) They still stand around a beautiful, shaded gazebo in the Plaza de la Libertad.

Walk a little then café.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Tenerife Part 2: Icod de los Vinos or Colonial Charm, Dragon Trees, and Miradors

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Departing Santa Crux de Tenerife, we drove along the TF-5 towards Icod de los Vinos, our base for the next several days as we explored the lower part of the north side of the island. A compass orientation doesn’t accurately describe how Tenerife is split into north and south regions, but Pico del Teide and its rugged highlands roughly divide the island into the dryer South, which faces Africa and catches the westerly blowing Sharqī, a hot wind from the Sahara, while the North of the island is shielded by Pico del Teide from the hot winds blowing west from Morocco, is wetter from Atlantic Ocean storms.

We are not really resort and beach people; there’s that getting sandy issue that deters us. We do enjoy a close proximity to the ocean and beautiful seascapes, both of which were easily attainable on the north side of Tenerife. We figured that the best way to do this was to chase miradors. And there wasn’t any shortage of them on the island. We figured enroute to them we’d pass other wonderful discoveries that would spur us to detour and investigate, rounding out what we saw of the island.

Set on a steep hill, the restaurant La Barada, just a short distance off the highway, was our first stop. Though technically it’s not a mirador, it is a popular place due to its glass pier that is cantilevered dramatically out over the countryside from the restaurant. It offers an amazing bird’s eye view of the coast with Pico del Teide in the distance. The food was also very good and the terrace was alive with boisterous activity the afternoon we stopped. 

We arrived late in the afternoon to our lodging at Hotel Emblemático San Marcos in iIcod de los Vinos. Located on a steep narrow street, it was a challenge to park close to the buildings on the driver’s side and still have enough room to get out of the car, but the parking was free and right in front of our hotel. Built in the early 1700s as a private mansion, it exemplified typical Canarian architecture of the period with its courtyard and meticulously crafted interior, rich with polished wood. The view from our room over the red tiled roofs of Icod extended to the sea.

Still early in the evening, we headed uphill to explore the historic center of the town and to our delight happened across an outdoor concert in the festively decorated plaza next to the Iglesia Mayor de San Marcos. The performances were part of the town’s September’s month-long Christ of Calvary celebrations. Legend says that when the conquistadors first landed on the beach here in the late 1400s they discovered a statue of San Marcos awaiting them. A fortuitous omen that promptly required a church be built. A century later the church was beautifully expanded to what it is today.

As the evening was darkening, we caught our first glimpse of El Drago Milenario. Believed to be 1000-years-old, it is the largest dragon tree on Tenerife. With over 300 branches, and a circumference of 66 feet, it’s a lofty 70 feet tall.

Beloved by the folks of Icod de los Vinos, the tree’s image is included on the town’s coat-of-arms along with Mount Tiede which also towers over municipality.

In centuries past trees harvested from the mountain’s slopes were sledded down the steep ancient roads of the old town, all the way to the harbor, where prosperous shipbuilders used them in the construction of naval vessels that participated in the ill-fated Spanish Armada of 1588. This unique sledding tradition is still kept alive every November with the La Fiesta de las Tablas, when younger folks speed down Plano Street on tablas, polished planks of wood, that often become airborne with their riders when they hit bumps in the road. Unfortunately, we did not witness this fiesta, but the video clips on YouTube are amazing. The cleared slopes around the town now host orchards, vineyards and banana plantations.

That evening we watched the climax of the festival – a spectacular fireworks display – from the balcony of our room. Throughout the night church bells continued to ring out loudly at odd times with seemingly random numbers of chimes. A curious oddity at the end of a wonderful day.

The weather was brilliant and the next morning we set out to visit the Mariposario del Drago, a large glassed enclosed tropical greenhouse that has a butterfly breeding program. Being gardens we find butterflies very entertaining. The experience here was delightful, and elicited smiles from everyone when a butterfly landed on them.

Across the street from the Mariposario, the El Drago Milenario stands behind a high walled and gated fence. The small admission fee to the park is well worth it to support the town’s effort in keeping this goliath of a tree alive. But, if you’d rather skip the expense and put it towards coffee or lunch, there’s an enticing café named Casa del Drago, with a good view, right next door. Farther uphill along Calle San Antonio there is Drago junior, a magnificent younger dragon tree that, according to legend, the town seized from its owner when he tried to cut it down in a fit of rage.

Fortunately, this part of the historic town center is relatively flat and the walking was easy as we headed back to admire the plaza around the Iglesia Mayor de San Marcos in the daylight and the church’s 16th, 17th, and 18th  century religious art.

Afterwards we strolled along the town’s old lanes until we reached city hall and the Iglesia de San Agustin, both of which are dramatically set on a small plaza at the top of a set of ancient stairs. The church dates from the late 1500s and was originally part of the first convent built in the town by the order of Los Augustinos.

The road to Playa de San Marcos in the harbor of Icod is spectacular with views of the coast. It was here, in this sheltered bay, one the few natural harbors on Tenerife’s north coast, that the Saint’s venerated statue was discovered in a cave along the cove.

We found it best to just find a place to park and then walk to the vantage point that interested us. During the September shoulder season when we visited, tourists were scarce and finding parking was relatively easy.

Early the next morning we headed towards Puerto de Santiago on a route that took us to the mountain ridge above Icod. The final destination of the day would be the isolated village of Masca. A serpentine drive from Icod led to a hairpin turn that fed us into Vieja a la Vega, a very narrow steep lane, but really more like an alley lined with homes. This was one of the steepest roads we’ve ever encountered, requiring us to downshift to second gear for the long and seemingly endless ascent to the main road at the top. Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any cars coming downhill, as there was literally no room to pass. At the top we intersected the TF-5 and followed it through an old growth forest covered with stately pine trees. Continuing on, the road traversed a Martian like landscape. A huge lava field that was the result of Volcano Chinyero‘s last eruption in 1909. The terrain became noticeable drier as we crossed the mountain and descended into Santiago del Teide.

The roads to Pico del Tiede, Masca, and Puerto de Santiago converge here, making it the perfect spot for a café break before continuing down to the Mirador Archipenque to view Los Gigantes, a stretch of tall cliff face that dramatically rises straight up from the sea.

From here you can also see two of the other Canary Islands, La Gomera, and La Palma on the horizon.  For centuries Santiago was a quaint fishing village, but it has embraced tourism and now draws folks enchanted by its natural beauty and striking location along the coast. Its harbor from November to February is also a popular hub for whale watching excursions to depart from.

Backtracking through Santiago del Teide we turned into the mountains and followed a long stretch of twisting and turning road to the Mirador de Cherfe. Sitting atop a mountain pass, it has expansive views to the sea. It was also one of the busiest miradors, with vendors selling lava trinkets, and many tourists stopping on the way to or from Masca, like us. Oh, the thrills of driving in the mountains of Tenerife were just beginning!

The isolated hamlet of Masca seems to be a mecca for folks wanting to get into the more remote parts of Tenerife. With limited parking options, we had to wait for a space to become available only to realize after we walked into the hamlet that all the restaurants were closed on Monday. Yikes!

With growling stomachs, we continued on. Starvation was thwarted in El Palmar at the Restaurante El Rincón La Abu, a wonderful establishment where we were the only customers late in the afternoon. The house wine and our meals, pork cheeks in sauce and chicken breast stuffed with serrano ham and spinach, were excellent. We appreciated that we never felt rushed to finish, but we did notice when we were getting into our car that they were locking up for the afternoon. When home our routine finds us having lunch late in the afternoon, but this wasn’t always possible on Tenerife where many of the restaurants close at 2 or 3pm and then reopen later.

It took us awhile to adjust to this earlier lunch schedule. Continuing on we stopped to observe the Montaña Zahorra, an ancient lava dome from which its fertile soil was quarried in the 1960s, 70s and 80s. The distinctive pie shapes of the excavations represented the individual owners’ mineral rights.  

Exuberant like rally drivers, we felt victorious from a day well spent and headed back to Icod de los Vinos to enjoy a glass of local wine on the balcony of our room and watch the moon rise over the foothills above the town.

Till next time, 

Craig & Donna

Madrid: An Ambience That Ages Well

| 2suitcasesfor2years

First Impression: Madrid is monumental! The minute we exited the Puerta de Atocha train station onto the sidewalk, we were struck by the beauty of the wide boulevards lined with stately trees and grand architecture, and the top of buildings graced with colossal sculptures of mythic gods.

If the Paseo del Prado, the route to our hotel, could speak, it would surely boast of its famous destinations along its length: Madrid’s Museum Triangle, which includes the Reina Sofia Museum where Picasso’s Guernica hangs; the Prado Museum, which highlights the works of Diego Velázquez and Goya; as well as the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, which displays 13th-20th-century European masterpieces. But its bragging rights continue with the Real Jardín Botánico, the Museo Naval with its fascinating exhibits devoted to Spanish maritime history, The Glory and Pegasus sculptures atop the Ministry of Agriculture, and the famous fountain depicting the goddess Cybele’s chariot being pulled by two lions. This relatively short distance is packed with so many highlights it should be called Madrid’s marvelous mile.

Our hotel the Apart-Hotel Serrano Recoletos was just a few blocks from the iconic Cibeles Fountain, which is centered in a traffic circle you usually have to observe from a distance, but overnight the Paseo del Prado was transformed into the festive final leg of the Movistar Half Marathon, with the finish line down the street from our hotel.

With the majestic boulevard closed to traffic, folks were free to wander up to the fountain for a close view, an accessibility that rarely happens. Yesterday we hadn’t realized the median strip that runs the length of Paseo del Prado was lavishly planted with gardens and as luck would have it, the tulips and flowering trees were in bloom. Heading towards the historic center of Madrid, we observed a large group of healthcare professionals marching peacefully down the Gran Via protesting government policies. It was a busy Spring Sunday in Madrid.

Plaza Mayor, ground zero for the historic center of Madrid, was our destination. Once the ancient city’s market area, the area was transformed by architect Juan Gómez de Mora during Philip III’s reign in 1617, and of course the King is dutifully recognized, gallantly astride an equestrian statue in the plaza’s center.

The vision of three successive architects contributed to the plaza as seen today, the result of three devasting fires in 1631, 1670 and 1790. Over the centuries it has hosted bullfights, executions during the Inquisition, Royal wedding celebrations, soccer games and Christmas markets. As an exclusive address in Madrid, many of the apartments are passed down within the same families from generation to generation.

Plaza Mayor gets hectic, but tucked away under the arcaded sidewalk, there are some hidden gems worth finding. Our favorite was La Torre del Oro. It’s an old atmospheric bar dedicated to celebrating Spain’s bullfighting traditions.

There are so many interesting destinations centered around this plaza that we often started our days here as a way to get oriented in old Madrid’s labyrinth of alleys. Treating the nine ancient gateways into the plaza as compass points, we would follow their direction into the surrounding barrios.

Our wanderings to soak up the ambience of this ancient quarter were frequently determined by a list of restaurants and cafes, along with historic sites and churches, we hoped to find. The choices were overwhelming. Since this was our first time in Madrid, we hit many of the tried-and-true spots, like Chocolatería San Ginés, famous for serving Madrileños the best hot chocolate with churros for over 125 years. There was a fast-moving queue when we arrived before 11, which suddenly evaporated and freed sidewalk tables, but it was much more interesting before the lull in activity. And El Riojano, a renowned 19th-century Pastelería with a tantalizing spinning tower of sweet temptations in its storefront window, is sure to break the will of any dieter. When you first enter, it looks like there are not any tables to sit at, but next to one of their display cases there is an opening into a large, popular back room for café. We are after all tourists.

One late afternoon by the El Oso y el Madroño sculpture, a band of buskers filled the Puerta del Sol with music. The Bear and the Strawberry Tree is a medieval heraldic emblem that has been associated with Madrid since 1222, when King Alfonso VIII used the image on a stamp to seal a royal decree.

We continued past the Plaza Mayor towards the Plaza de la Armería, where the Catedral de la Almudena, (1883), and the Royal Palace of Madrid (1738), face each other. Turning onto Calle del Factor, we walked a short distance uphill to the Jardín de Larra and joined a small group of folks waiting to enjoy the sunset.

Afterwards at the bottom of the street we entered the Iglesia Catedral de las Fuerzas Armadas. It’s a small 17th century church dedicated to the Spanish armed forces. The church’s simple façade conceals a lavish marble interior with several interesting altars depicting paternalistic colonial themes.

The streets of Madrid seem even busier at night with folks bustling about after work. On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at the Mercado de San Miguel, one of Madrid’s old, covered food markets, which dates from 1916. Today it’s a gentrified, popular gastronomic destination, with tapas, tapas, and more tapas to satisfy everyone’s tastes.

Madrid’s iconic Tio Pepe neon sign blazed brightly above the Puerta del Sol, and shops along the plaza brilliantly displayed their merchandise in dramatically lighted storefront windows. While Madrid exudes ambience during the day, the city becomes magical in the evenings.

Dinner was at La Casa del Abuelo CRUZ, a traditional tapas bar that has been run by the same family since 1906. Their specialty, gambas al ajillo (sizzling garlic prawns), while very delicous, was a terrible value for the portion size. Their vino de casa, an excellent strong red wine, was memorable and eased the pain of the excessive bill.

Spain’s empire building and wealth followed Columbus’ discovery of the Americas in 1492. A daring nautical leap of faith at the time, it set in motion an era of exploration by sea, that would expand the Spanish Empire around the globe. With that in mind, and an interest in boats, we headed to the Museo Naval on Paseo del Prado, near the Prado Museum. It’s a wonderful museum with exhibits in chronological order, which highlight exquisite ship models, nautical instruments, maps, weaponry, and paintings depicting important naval battles. The exhibits include models of the Niña, Pinta, and Santa Maria which composed Columbus’ small fleet on his epic first voyage.

Afterwards we headed into the centro historico for lunch at Casa Toni, an intimate, no-frills bar, that serves tasty seafood and offal tapas. A short line had formed for tables by the time we arrived, but it moved quickly, especially if you opted for a table upstairs, though downstairs is where all the action is with other folks, jammed into a small space, standing at the bar, and seated at some very tiny tables. It’s a friendly boisterous spot. Pig ears and fried lamb lungs might not be for everyone, but they were surprisingly very tasty. 

Gold and silver from the Americas fueled church building across Spain in the 16th – 18th centuries.While it’s possible to enjoy Madrid without visiting any churches, we’ve developed a policy of going inside if the door was open. It nicely slowed down our day and transported us back to a time when amazing buildings were constructed only using hand tools to carve stone and shape wood. And the religious paintings and iconography, while they might not be of interest to everyone, display a level of craftsmanship and imagination that’s worthy of appreciation. Unfortunately, the churches were also vast repositories of riches, donated by the wealthy and poor alike, to secure a place in heaven.

Near the San Miguel market, down from the Plaza de la Villa, on Calle de Puñonrostro, we happened upon the inconspicuous entrance to the small chapel at the Monastery of Corpus Christi las Carboneras, that dates from the early 1600s. It’s a tall, narrow, petite sanctuary. When we were turning to leave, I noticed on the second level the privacy screen across the prayer area for the sequestered nuns. It didn’t actually offer much privacy since a I spotted a seated nun watching the tourists in the chapel. I waved gently, she smiled and waved discreetly back.

A door further along the calle leading to the convent’s dulces turno was just being locked; I could hear the click, a few minutes shy of their posted hours. The dulce turnos are a centuries-old tradition that has remarkably survived in convents across modern Spain, as a means for nuns to support themselves. The turno is essentially a lazy-susan style cabinet with doors on both sides of the wall that lets the customers purchase cookies and other baked cooked from the sequestered nuns while still maintaining the nuns’ privacy. Cookie orders are spoken through the wall. If your Spanish is insufficient, it’s handy to write out what you’d like. There is usually a list of what’s available taped to the door of the cabinets. You place your money on the shelf, the wheel turns, and cookies appear as if by magic. It’s delightful! At the bottom of the street, in front of a public library, stands a bronze statue of a man. It’s named El Lector, the reader, a tribute to Carlos Cambronero, a writer devoted to Madrid’s history. Across the street the unusual convex, baroque facade of the Basílica Pontificia de San Miguel (1739) intrigued us, and we explored more inside.

The calles go every which way in La Latina, one of Madrid’s oldest areas, where the narrow streets and plazas follow the original 9th century footprint of the Arab citadel that originally stood there. Though its buildings might be old, the area now attracts a vibrant young crowd that enjoys an immense collection of tapas bars and restaurants along Cava Baja and Cava Alta. The two nearly parallel streets have been popular since medieval times, when traveling merchants stayed at inns and taverns along the calles, and used tunnels or access holes dug at the end of the streets to enter the walled city at night when the gates were closed.

At the end of Cava Baja and Cava Alta, the colorful Mercado de la Cebada, with its distinctive wavy roof, is a modern architectural dichotomy in its surroundings. The shopping in this mercado is an authentic Madrileño experience that is not touristy at all.

From the entrance to the market, we noticed the tall silhouette of the Royal Basilica of Saint Francis the Great’s large dome, several blocks away, dominating the neighborhood, and decided to check it out.

This is a mammoth, mid-18th century cathedral designed in the Neoclassic style, the size of which we did not fully realize until we were standing under its 108-foot-wide and 190-foot-high dome. Legend believes that St. Francis chose this site himself when he visited Madrid in 1214 during his pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. The dome is the largest in Spain and the fourth largest in Europe. It was breathtaking in scale and equally fascinating with celestial frescos by Casto Plasencia Mayor decorating the cupola, and paintings behind the altar by Manuel Dominquez and Alejandero Ferrant, illuminating biblical stories.

Six smaller but equally opulent chapels in several different architectural styles, from Baroque to Byzantine, and Renaissance to Rococo, ring the main altar, each mini museum displaying a wealth of religious art created by the Spanish masters Francisco José de Goya, Alonso Cano, Francisco Zurbarán, Antonio González Velazquez, José Moreno Carbonero, and others. This church is one of the most beautiful we’ve visited in Spain and should be on everyone’s “must do in Madrid,” lists.

Afterwards, on Carrera de San Francisco, 14, as we started our return leg to our hotel, we happened upon two very good gastronomic discoveries. The artisanal bakery, Obrador San Francisco, was full of the wonderful aroma from fresh baked bread that was just being put out for purchase. And of course, to go along with good bread, you need good cheese. This was accomplished easily enough, right next door, at Quesería Cultivo, a cheese shop, with an amazing array of Iberian cheeses. It’s worth stopping here just for the earthy aroma that greets you when you enter the store, an experience that will have you picturing idyllic Spanish mountain pastures, full of grass-grazing and milk-producing livestock.

Being the cheese aficionados that we are, we had one more stop in mind, at Casa González.  They have been selling cheese in Madrid since 1931 and have slowly expanded to become a petite gourmet shop and small bar with a handful of tables, where they are happy to advise you on which wines to pair with each cheese.  

On our last full day in Madrid, we wandered the exhibition galleries at the Prado, viewing the museum’s vast collection of classical European art, which spans from the sixth century BC until the late 19th century. We especially enjoyed the works of Goya, Velázquez, and El Greco. Goya created over 700 paintings during his lifetime and embraced many different themes from royal portraiture, to Romanticism, to religious art, and later his dark paintings, toward the end of his life.

Around the corner from the museum, we lunched at Plenti, which served delicious and inexpensive food. We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring Real Jardín Botánico, where many of its plantings were just beginning to flower.

In El Retiro Park we did the classic tourist stuff, visiting the Palacio de Cristal, originally built as an exposition greenhouse, but now hosting art exhibits, and the Monument to Alfonso XII on the El Retiro boating pond. Interestingly, the park was originally created in 1630 as an exclusive sanctuary for Spanish Kings and members of the royal court, and famous naval battles were re-enacted on the boating pond for the monarchy’s entertainment.

The large 350-acre treed park, with manicured gardens, fountains and monuments was perfect for royal courtships and discreet liaisons. It was gifted by the monarchy to Madrid and permanently opened to the public in 1868, a much-needed addition to the city’s greenspace at the time.

The sun was warm for late March and folks were out and about, enjoying life. It was a perfect day.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Barcelona: An ancient yet modern metropolis

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Usually, we shy away from large cities. I am not sure exactly why, though it’s probably anxiety about how hectic a new city might be and imaginary stress of navigating public transit, or predatory taxi drivers. But we’ve only ever heard how wonderful Barcelona was from our friends and decided to take the plunge ourselves. Boy were our pre-conceived notions way off! Starting with a trouble-free taxi ride (it’s as if the Barcelona City Council told the taxi union to treat the tourists well or we’ll allow Uber and Lyft to operate in the city) from the airport to our hotel, One Shot Aragó 257 in Barcelona’s Eixample district.

The district dates from the city’s expansion in 1855 when the Spanish Crown finally relented and permitted the demolition of the ancient defensive walls around the historic core of Barcelona. This allowed the city to expand beyond its ancient footprint to accommodate a growing population, that was literally bursting the city’s walls. A visionary plan by Ildefons Cerdà to urbanize the farmlands surrounding the old walled city was chosen.

An enlightened architect and civil engineer, he envisioned Eixample to be a model of urban living, where every citizen had enough sunlight, clean air, water and green space for a healthy lifestyle. Cerdà designed the Eixample district with short blocks to encourage “walking, mixing, and vibrant street life,” and oriented the streets to run northwest to southeast to receive maximum sunlight. The buildings on each block were no higher than seven floors and built around a central treed courtyard.

Comprised of six neighborhoods, Dreta de l’Eixample, Antiga Esquerra, Sagrada Familia, Fort Pienc, Sant Antoni, and Nova Esquerra, we can attest that Cerdà’s Eixample district and his vision for Barcelona’s future has withstood the test of time and the city continues to be a wonderful, people-friendly place to explore by foot. Today Barcelona is a sprawling city of millions; still, with most of its 19th century buildings only 7 stories tall, it never felt congested and always felt as if we were strolling through intimate neighborhoods. Of course, there were exceptions on La Rambla and the promenade along the Platja de la Barceloneta oceanfront, which were busy even in off-season March.

Today, continuing improvements to the city’s urban landscape, fostered by the concerns of climate change, are being implemented to the city’s 19th century footprint with the pioneering of Superblocks. These are 3 square block areas that will become pedestrian only with trees planted where the roadway was removed in order to expand the city’s green spaces and enhance urban living.

Just exploring the blocks immediately surrounding our hotel was rewarding with discoveries of cafés, tapas bars and interesting shops. Our favorite for morning coffee was the Catalan pastry shop, Casa Vives, located too easily, on the corner down the street from our hotel. The contemporary tapas at Vinitus couldn’t be beaten, and a formidable line awaited if we didn’t arrive early enough.

Contemporary interior design has always intrigued us, and fine examples can be found all across the city. But in our neighborhood the bookstore Llibreria Finestres and Lucciano’s Barcelona, an ice cream shop, stood out, along with Bolibar Bronzes with its vast array of fascinating architectural door hardware. We can’t imagine how much our suitcases would have weighed if we had indulged ourselves by shopping there.

Eixample also claims several buildings designed by the innovative modernista architect Antoni Gaudi. Near our hotel, on Passeig de Graçia, was the Casa Batlló, a private residence that Gaudi redesigned in 1904 with his signature use of flowing organic forms, whimsical decorative elements, and texture. Also, on Passeig de Graçia is Gaudi’s La Pedrera-Casa Milà, 1906, a private residence for his client on the lower floor and apartments above. The building is known for the undulating lines of its facade and sculptural chimneys. Sadly, we sufficed with just viewing the exteriors of these landmarks, as we felt the entrance fees were exorbitant at €30 per person at each site.

We put these savings towards the tickets for the Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família, or simply the Sagrada Familia, Antoni Gaudi’s masterpiece. Like the Eiffel Tower in Paris, Big Ben in London, and Rome’s Coliseum, Gaudi’s soaring towers at the Sagrada Familia serve as Barcelona’s iconic landmark.

The cornerstone of the Sagrada Familia was laid in 1882, but Gaudi was not the first architect. He replaced a colleague who designed a more traditional church with a gothic façade, flying buttresses and a pointed bell tower. Gaudi transformed it into the enlightened, visionary structure that now graces Barcelona with eighteen spires.

Twelve of the spires are dedicated to the Apostles, while the remaining six are dedicated to the four Evangelists, the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ. Realizing the project would outlive him, Gaudi left detailed plans and models that are still being followed, nearly 100 years after his untimely death in 1926 (he was struck by a tram and died from his injuries a few days later.) Construction of the cathedral relies on ticket sales and private donations, consequently during the pandemic, work nearly came to a stop. Currently the church’s final completion date is set for 2026, one-hundred-forty-four years after that cornerstone was laid and 100 years after its architect’s death. Talk about a lasting vision!

The Cathedral is an awe-inspiring temple that is visually uplifting and celebrates life, with its unique use of organic forms and stunning play of light from its stained-glass windows. We highly recommend purchasing your tickets and scheduling a time to visit online, well ahead of your visit to avoid the queue at this celebrated monument.

Walking between landmarks is one of the best ways to experience Barcelona and with that in mind we headed to Mercat de l’Abaceria, a traditional neighborhood mercado with multiple vendors on Pg. de St. Joan. Though much smaller than the famed Mercado de La Boqueria on La Rambla, which has sadly become gentrified and overly touristy, this mercado is a genuine neighborhood experience, where we enjoyed lunch and purchased olives, cheese, and sausages for snacking later.

Any first visit to Barcelona can’t be complete without a stroll down La Rambla, taking its name from the Arab word “ramla,” for sandy riverbed, which is how the path from the old walled city to the Mediterranean Sea started eons ago. La Rambla became a street leading to one of city’s ancient gates in the 1400s when a riverbed was filled in and folks trekked to an open-air market in an area known as Pla de la Boquería. It eventually became the main thoroughfare to the port and was lined with several convents.

The market wasn’t officially recognized as La Boqueria until the 1840s and didn’t exist in a covered structure until 1914 and now famously hosts 200 food stalls and millions of visitors every year. Flowers have always been a tradition along La Rambla and it started with La Boqueria’s market stall owners, centuries ago, giving flowers to their customers as a token of appreciation for their shopping. In 1702, 280 trees were planted along La Rambla. Streetlamps were installed along its length in 1860 and its newspaper stands remained open all night. Since then, it has been Barcelona’s most historic boulevard, the place to stroll, to be seen, to people watch.

Now three quarters of a mile long, the tree lined boulevard runs from the Columbus Monument at the harbor past the historic Gothic Quarter to Plaça de Catalunya, Barcelona’s central plaza where the old medieval city ends and the newer Eixample district begins.

Wandering through the historic old town section, we visited the Cathedral of Barcelona, a massive Gothic structure that dates from 1298, when it was built upon the ruins of an old Roman temple.

It was the city’s most important church for 600 years until the construction of the Sagrada Familia was started. The difference between the two is night and day. The cathedral is somber, while the Sagrada Familia lifts your spirit.

Afterwards on our way to the Palau de la Música Catalana, we stumbled upon Raima, a fantastic stationery and art supply store that is so out of place in the medieval old town, it’s wonderful. If you enjoy artful things, Raima has four floors full of visually stimulating displays and a hidden gem, a quiet rooftop café.

The walk through the narrow alleys of Barcelona’s ancient city center is filled with interesting architectural details fronting centuries-old buildings. Each successive generation decorated their city with sculptures and monuments, small visually intriguing vignettes, but which sadly have lost their historical significance over time. Now in many of the city’s plazas, modern art stands wonderfully juxtaposed against the ancient buildings.

The Palau de la Música Catalana is Barcelona’s most beautiful concert hall and is often referred to as the city’s, “magical music box.” It was constructed in 1905 by a contemporary of Gaudi’s, modernist architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner, in a style that is referred to as Catalan Art Nouveau, which incorporates the decorative arts of stained glass, ironwork, mosaic, painting, and sculpture together in a project. It’s a captivating space that highlights the great craftsmanship of the era. 

The Barcelona beaches were not tempting us, but someone during our travels suggested that we must go to the seaside district of Barceloneta and find Bar Electricitat. “Because, they have the best bombas in Barcelona.” Try saying that tongue twister three times fast! We haven’t done a lot of comparative taste testing regarding this, however the bombas, fried mashed potato balls stuffed with sauteed ground pork and beef, were delicious. And the bar itself is a friendly, delightful no-frills place with a gregarious waiter, who seemed to know everyone, and a good house wine. We cut our walk along the beach short when the wind started to kick up sand.

Unfortunately, by the time we reached Parc de la Ciutadella, our cloudless morning was becoming overcast, though that did not deter folks from relaxing on the parks expansive lawns and enjoying a warm Spring Day in mid-March. Designed in the late 19th century for the Universal Exposition of 1888, the park has an assortment of monuments dedicated to Spain’s glories, a boating lake, and life-size concrete sculpture of a woolly mammoth named Júlia. She’s been popular with generations of Barcelonian families since she was installed in the park over 100 years ago.

The next morning, we took a cab to Park Guell, another Antoni Gaudí creation set in the hills above Barcelona. In 1900, Eusebi Güell, a wealthy industrialist, envisioned the wooded hillside as an exclusive gated community with sixty homes and common areas designed by Gaudí.

By 1907, the whimsical entrance pavilions, viaducts, hypostyle market area, and the grand esplanade with its stairway were completed.

But the project failed to attract buyers and the hillside became Güell’s private retreat. Upon his death his heirs offered to sell the park to the city. Barcelona agreed and opened the park to the public in 1926. The park has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1984 and annually attracts nine million visitors. Get your tickets online ahead of time and arrive at the park as early as possible. Even by 11AM, in March, there was a hefty crowd of folks visiting the park.

Something old, something new, there are plenty of interesting things to do and see in this dynamic, ancient yet modern metropolis. We had a great 5 days exploring Barcelona. And one of the surprising things we discovered about ourselves during our years of travel is that after having purposedly avoided living and working in cities in the United States, we actually enjoy European city life!

“Just close your eyes and let’s pretend we’re dancing in the street in Barcelona”- Ed Sheeran

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Road Tripping Through Andalucia: The Pueblos Blancos of Ubrique, Villaluenga del Rosario and Arcos de la Frontera

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Just below the northern horizon, a white brushstroke highlighted the verdant canvas before us as we savored the view from the top of the castillo in Castellar de Frontera one last time. That swath of white slowly changed into Jimena de la Frontera as we drove closer. One of Andalucia’s famed Pueblos Blancos, the village is set on the hillside below the ruins of its ancient castle which once protected it.

In ancient times the homes in villages featured roughhewn stone masonry. Lime paint was a luxury, until its use was greatly expanded during the mid-1300’s when a bubonic plague pandemic swept through the Mediterranean countries. Residents of villages were required yearly to cover the outside and the interiors of their homes and churches with a limewash, known for its natural anti-bacterial and insecticidal properties, in an effort to reduce the spread of disease. Community inspections were done, and folks were fined for noncompliance. This mandated conformity was eventually appreciated as an aesthetically pleasing look and a symbol of meticulous tidiness. Fortunately, the custom stayed and has become an iconic signature of southern Andalusia.

Villaluenga del Rosario was our ultimate destination for the day, but before that we would be driving through the expansive forests of Parque Natural Sierra de Grazalema and stopping along the way in Ubrique, and Benaocaz. All pueblos blancos, though all different in size, setting and atmosphere. According to our maps app the trip would take 2 hours. But it was a glorious 58-mile sinuous route through the mountains, and with several stops it took us most of the day.

The vast 130,000-acre Parque Natural Sierra de Grazalema, with peaks reaching 5400 feet, is one of the wettest areas in Spain, receiving almost 80 inches of rain a year. This is surprising, considering that many areas in Andalucia are often used to replicate the American southwest for European filmmakers. These wet conditions over many millennia have created a dramatic karstic landscape of shear mountains, lush valleys and caves, especially Pileta Cave with its 30,000 year old prehistoric paintings. The park’s lower elevations feature forests of cork oak, carob, hawthorn, and mastic. Higher slopes transition to a landscape of gall oaks and Spanish fir, a tree species that survived the last Ice Age. This ecosystem supports a diverse fauna that contains 136 species of birds, most notably a large population of griffon vultures, and 42 mammal species, that include foxes, badgers, roe deer, otters, and Spanish ibex. And in ancient times it was the refuge of wild, now extinct, aurochs, the ancestor of the famous Spanish Fighting Bulls, toro bravo. The park has been a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve since 1977.

Farmers still harvest cork and olives amidst the rocky terrain and graze cattle, sheep, and goats within the park. This practice made for an interesting encounter when we rounded a curve and faced a VERY LARGE BULL standing in the middle of the road, adjacent to some pasture. We stopped, looked around for his farmer, but there was no one in sight. It was obvious he was the king of this domain, with no intention of moving aside until he felt like it. Slowly we inched forward and watched him eye us until he decided to saunter across the road and let us pass.

Ubrique is a large thriving town with 17,000 inhabitants set in a valley surrounded by tall peaks and steep scree slopes, its homes built above and around boulders too large to move. The town’s prosperity comes from its fine leather workshops, which account for 60% of the townspeople being employed directly or indirectly in the creation of leather products. It started simply enough with leather cases and pouches to carry tobacco and the Precise, a heavy-duty strap that allowed workers to safely carry silex stones and iron bricks.

By the mid-1700s their fine leather products and artisanal craftsmanship was recognized across Europe which fueled an export industry. The good fortunes of the town continued to grow until the mid-2000 when clients seeking higher profit margins moved their leather goods production to China and other Asian countries. Fortunately, their exodus did not last long, and they returned to Ubrique when they realized that the excellent craftsmanship in this small Andalucian town could not be rivaled by cheap labor. Today Ubrique is considered the “artisanal leather capital, “ for high-end fashion brands like Chloe, Gucci, Hermes and Louis Vuitton. “So many stores, so little time.” Of course, we shopped! The decision-making process was painful, but Donna managed to select one single beautiful purse to take home.

In March the twisting roads, higher into the mountains, were nearly void of traffic. Occasionally a campervan passed. Reaching Benaocaz, we parked and strolled through a nearly empty town square in search of coffee. It was a quiet weekend afternoon in the shoulder season, and few people were about, but luckily, we happened to come across Restaurante Nazari, a rustic restaurant with outside tables that had a view of the valley below the town.

Villaluenga del Rosario was only a little farther, and higher into the mountains. The village is dramatically set along one side of a narrow green valley at the base of a sheer mountain massif. The lane to our inn, the Tugasa La Posada, looked too narrow to drive down, and I was concerned about getting to a point that required backing up. A difficult task in an alley barely wider than our rental car, and there was plenty of parking above the village.  La Posada wonderfully reflects the typical inn of centuries past, with a large tavern, featuring regional recipes, on the ground level and a handful of rooms above.

Several things are unique to this pueblo: Snowy winters are common in the Sierra de Grazalema Natural Park’s highest village, situated at an elevation of 2800ft. It is also the smallest village in the Province of Cadiz, with only 438 residents. And the village has a unique octagon shaped bullring, built around a natural rock formation, that is the oldest in Cadiz Province, dating from the mid-1700s. The exact year of construction for the bullring isn’t known, as the town’s archives were lost in a 1936 fire. Located on an important cattle trading route through the mountains, the bullring was also used as a corral during livestock festivals.

But before domestic cattle were raised in the area, prehistoric people used to pursue auroch, a wild bull that lived in the Sierra de Grazalema until it was hunted to extinction in the Middle Ages. Nearby in Cueva de la Pileta, primitive cave paintings of bulls have been dated to the Paleolithic era 27,000 years ago. The famous fighting bulls of Spain, Toro Bravo, descend from this primal auroch lineage that once roamed wild. Ancient pagan festivals often conducted a running of the wild bulls, tethered to a group of men by a long rope, through their villages before a ritual sacrifice.  “Toro de Cuerda'”(Bull on Rope) festivals, are thought to be the foundation of the modern Spanish Bull Fight, and are still held in Villaluenga del Rosario, Grazalema, and Benamahoma. With the advent of Christianity some of these pagan elements were incorporated into church celebrations of a pueblo’s patron Saint. In Grazalema the early church Christianized the practice and includes the Feast of the Bull in celebrations to the Virgen del Carmen every July. Benamahoma’s “Toro de Cuerda” is held in August during their festival to honor the town’s patron saint, Anthony of Padua.

This tranquil village has gone through some turbulent times in its past. Villaluenga del Rosario, known for its woolen textiles in the 17th century, did not escape Napoleon’s destruction as his troops retreated across the mountains after they abandoned their siege of Cadiz in 1812. French troops sacked the village and torched the old Church of El Salvador. Now only the walls and roof arches remain, open to the sky. The sanctuary is now used as a cemetery.  The economy declined throughout the region in the 1800s and early 1900s, and the mountains were beset with bandits. Notoriously, José María El Tempranillo and Pasos Largos, the most infamous of the Sierra’s outlaws, would frequent the village and hideout in the surrounding caves. They are celebrated as Robin Hood bandoleros, robbing the wealthy and redistributing their stolen goods to help the poverty-stricken locals – Andalucia’s mountain justice. These same caves in the 1930s would shelter Republican resistance fighters escaping Fascist troops during the Spanish Civil War. A hiking trail, Los Llanos del Republicano, from the village to caves is named after them.

The rural population continued to emigrate, contributing to further economic deterioration until the villages’ employment prospects improved with the opening of a cheese factory, Queso Payoyo, in 1997. The Payoyo goat is an ancient breed from the Sierra de Grazalema and considered endangered. Since Queso Payoyo opened 25 years ago, its goat and sheep cheeses have received 175 national and international awards. Thirty-five farms now supply Payoyo goat and Merina grazalemeña sheep milk to the cheesemaker. Their shop just across the road from the village seems to be a Mecca for cheese aficionados. Open seven days a week, we were surprised to find it packed with customers early on a Sunday morning, when we stopped to buy some cheese before we headed to Benamahoma.

It was a beautiful crisp spring day, and we enjoyed a slow walk uphill into the village. Next to the Plaza de las Huertas the façade of the Ermita/mezquita de San Antonio, a church/mosque, visually represents Benamahoma’s complex cultural identity, with Moorish horseshoe-shaped arches and three golden spheres topped by with a gold crescent, typically seen on minarets, atop its tower.

This region in Spain has a very complicated history, beginning with Alfonso X’s Reconquista which started in the mid-1200s, paused, then continued for the next 400 years with his successors. Benamahoma was the last Moorish village in the mountains to have its inhabitants expelled from the region in 1609, eighteen years after Grazalema’s Muslim villagers were forced out, though the hamlets are only nine miles apart. Their reprieve was caused by the fact that although Alfonso X and later Kings achieved military victories, they did not have enough troops to garrison each village, nor sufficient numbers of willing Christian settlers from Northern Spain to repopulate the conquered towns. Consequently, to keep the economy of the area going and subjects to collect taxes from, Moors were allowed to stay as long as their local Princes swore allegiance to a Christian King and declared themselves loyal vassals.  This did not always go smoothly and there were rebellions. Most famously the Mudéjar Revolt in 1264, when the towns of Jerez, Lebrija, Arcos, and Medina-Sidonia were recaptured and occupied by Moors for several years before Christian armies secured the towns once again. 

Benamahoma’s historic, pragmatic tolerance is celebrated the first weekend every August with a Moros y Cristianos Festival. Carrying swords, shields and blunderbusses, historical reenactors dressed in period clothing parade through the village to the bullring, where they then engage in mock hand-to-hand combat. The battles are won with the capture of an image of San Antonio de Padua by the Moors on Saturday and then won by Christians on Sunday with the rescue of his image. Many of the positions in the opposing armies are hereditary, the tradition being passed down from father to son, through the generations. Benamahoma is the only village in western Andalucia which celebrates this festival.

This village’s remoteness in the Sierra de Grazalema did not protect it from the atrocities committed during the Spanish Civil War. Near the bullring, in the Parque de Memoria Historica, silhouettes stand where villagers once stood against a wall before they were massacred by Fascists. Sadly, this memorial is also near the village’s second church, the Iglesia de San Antonio de Padua.

Backtracking as we headed to Arcos de la Frontera, we stopped at a radio station above El Bosque. A trail behind its tall antenna offered the perfect vantage point to capture a photo of the village below. We did not stop in El Bosque, but after catching glimpses of the village as we drove through, in hindsight we wished we had.  But there was a time constraint, we wanted to spend the afternoon exploring Arcos de la Frontera, before flying on to Barcelona the next morning. 

The A-372 between El Bosque and Arcos de la Frontera has to be one of the prettiest stretches of highway anywhere. With the reflection of the Sierra de Grazalema in our rearview mirrors, we wished we could have lingered longer.

I’ve always loved maps for researching routes, finding obscure sites, and figuring out the best vantage point to capture a landscape from. This brought us to our first two stops at the Molino de Angorrill, an old mill, and the Mirador Los Cabezuelos, before we entered the hilltop citadel. Both places along Guadalete River had wonderful views of the ancient city.

After this our map app failed us when it suggested we head the wrong way down a one-way calle into the village. We eventually found an underground parking garage at Parque El Paseo and towed our suitcases uphill to the Parador de Arcos de la Frontera.

It was LONG walk, but of course we stopped frequently to take photos. Located next to the 500-foot-high Mirador Plaza del Cabildo and adjacent to the Basílica de Santa María de la Asunción and the Castillo de los Duques de Arcos, the hotel was a perfect base for a one-night stay. Formerly the Casa del Corregidov was an Andulcian palace before it was acquired by the government and renovated to be a parador in 1966.

Arcos has always been a favored spot, appreciated for its access to abundant water sources and its easily defensible position atop a cliff face. It has hosted settlements since the Neolithic period, Bronze Age, Tartessians, Phoenicians and Romans periods.

The village continued to grow under the Moors and while the facades and interior of buildings in this ancient town have changed over the centuries the original Arab footprint of the village, with its exceedingly narrow lanes has remained the same.

The view from the mirador and the hotel’s patio were phenomenal during the golden hour. As the sun was setting, a large flock of storks appeared over the bell tower of the Basilica and circled for about fifteen minutes before flying away. It was a magical experience that nicely capped our short time in Arcos.

The next morning, we watched the sun rise over the Sierra de Grazalema and the village’s church steeples from our hotel room, before wandering through the village’s ancient lanes one last time.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna