SPAIN again... Andalucia and beyond

April 16

Tonight we sit in an empty lot in the “White” hill town of Arcos de la Frontera, skipping Seville until 4 or 5 days from now as there is a fun April festival going on then which we would like to be part of. We drove from Tavira, our last stay in Portugal, to Huelva just to use the library to catch up on some email but we also enjoyed lunch watching people (mostly tourists) walk the beach promenade, stopping to try out all the sturdy yellow and red exercise equipment set out as art...but useful art. So of course when lunch was finished we had to try it out too. There were a couple of men that used them as their daily exercise routines. Our next destination was Sanlucar de Barrameda on the Atlantic coast. The city was rambling and uninteresting but the resort beach at the edge of the sea was quite lovely, the finest golden sand I have yet seen. Palm trees, a long walking promenade with benches to rest and stare from. But this is not “our bag” so we decided to move on to Cadiz but we just couldn't bring ourselves to enter another big city so we changed direction and here we are in Arcos de la Frontera.

April 17

What a lovely day this has been. Beautiful sunny skies at just the right temperature. Breezes. More of those skinny interesting streets. We left our car at the bottom of the hill and walked for about 15 minutes up and into the old city. The highlight for us was meeting a father ceramist/painter in one store and his daughter in another. Both really good artists. We did buy something in each store...but what we really wanted was a beautiful hand painted plate. What would we do with that before we come home? Probably break it! So we left it on the wall. And then, brunch out in the square. I needed eggs so they came scrambled with asparagus, garlic and shrimp along with some really good toast or roasted bread as they say. David had his favored cod again, but in a different form. This time on roasted bread with a pepper garlic sauce and the cod on top, the whole thing sliced into pieces about 1” by 3”. And coffee with milk. The old city is sitting on the edge of a very high cliff that is eroding... I mean it is straight down to the valley floor as some of the hill has fallen away. I would not sleep at night if my home were there. Arcos is classified as one of the White Towns in this region of mountains. When we left, we programmed the GPS for Algar and off we went....except the shortest way evidently was through the narrow streets of the old city and it was really scary! Once we had one inch on either side of the van...with people waiting behind us while we backed up, went forward and inched our way to safety, both David and I with our heads out the windows directing. Do not trust your GPS. It can get you into big trouble. Andalucia is sooooo luscious. The mountains are relatively low, only a few still holding snow. All the buildings in these towns and villages are painted white. It is quite spectacular to see them nestled among valleys or atop hills. The combination of pleasing round shaped deciduous trees parting for pasture for goats, sheep and cows...and mountains of rock in the foreground sometimes and in the background at others. It is a treat for the eyes and the heart to visit the towns and drive between them. Today, now being April 18, we have been from Arcos now, to Algar to El Bosque to Ubrique to Grazelema and lastly to Ronda. We run into interesting people along the way, have a little talk and we are gone from each other forever... when really you know that you could have remained good friends! Some from Belgium, others from the Netherlands and today, from Canada. As we travel this route, we see some poor farmers, shepherds and townspeople but how can one be poor with this terrain to look at every day. Fair or stormy. They have to be passionate about their part of the earth. It must feed their souls. We spent quite some time with the owner of the tourist stop today. We sat with our computer at a desk there in Grazalema. An Englishman who fell in love with Andalucia. This is a place of walking the hills and canoeing the rivers and rock climbing. He fell in love with all that as well as the satisfying offerings for his love of botany. (Have you ever seen cactus growing in the mountains? Oh yeh...near Green Valley.) We left Ronda a few hours ago. David had been there before and wanted to pull up some old memories he had with his friend Bob Frerck in 1972. This town is unique in that there is a steep gorge that divides the town. Very steep and rocky with a tall waterfall spilling just below the bridge. A long long way down. We walked down a path to get a good view. (David got far too close to the edge with his camera. I just can't take it when he does that!) We could see kids far below climbing around by the top of the falls. Youth! Nuts! But you gotta do it! We went to a lovely Moorish castle and another over-the-top church and finished with a coffee and a piece of apple cake on the edge of the gorge. Now we are perched for the night in an white town with a name we can't remember.

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> Somewhere in the last couple of days we saw a group of white flamingos feeding in quiet marshy waters.

> The people who live in these white towns seem happier than most, just my opinion. Vespas whisk noisily by, people hale each other in fond familiar greetings, the menial of jobs seems a great way to exist. There seems ongoing chatter and laughter.

> Often there are small white herons among the black cows.

> Where there are storks they are all nesting and they choose the top of electric poles. We counted thirteen poles in a row with a nest on top... and an adult stork sitting in it.

> There are daisy fields everywhere and birds, birds, birds... loudly singing. I can never find the bird. Today I decided that it must be the trees singing!

> We saw two mounds with smoke coming out of them... making charcoal we think.

> We often see cart and horse. Some we know are gypsy. I tried to take a photo of a couple of colorful families as we passed but they were insistent that we not take pictures of them.

> We tried out some local favorite pastry. Pastel de nata. Too much like pudding in a tart pastry. We don't think anyone can beat the French! We miss the baguettes...there is something here that looks like a baguette but it is not.

> Did I tell you about all the oranges laying around on the ground... when we are paying good money for them? David tried one out... bitter, he said. Ahhh. It turns out they are the oranges used in English marmalade.

> Another one of those calming things.... wind rippling longish grass like waves in the sea.

> One morning David said. “Let the good times roll.” Well that just about says it!

> It was so touching to see a man in a small village walking home on a Sunday afternoon with a few plants in his hands. It's spring. Did he get them from a friend's garden?

> Friends. I am so aware of friendships. Always I see friends talking earnestly. I do miss my friends.

> As I think about the boys climbing around in the gorge I have come to the conclusion that it just might be a right of passage for young men who live in the area. There seems to be a route, a very dangerous route. Part of it is climbing straight down a cliff. There seems to be a cable hanging down that they can hold on to... but still, it is a long way to the bottom if one should slip and lose hold. And thin thin dirt trails along the edge of some of the cliffs with places that are totally exposed with nothing to hang on to. I was quite fascinated.

April 23

From Ronda, we went to Gaucin and Casares, both mountain white towns and then...we changed our plans and went to Tarifa to catch the boat to Tangier (Tanger). Tarifa was a great place to hang out an evening. An old town, a fortress, an island with a castle, beautiful beaches...though it was cold and windy. We watched a surfer and many wind surfers out in the white topped waves. In the town plaza we sat outside for our daily beer watching young free men and women playing, dancing, wearing Morocco inspired clothing and generally hanging out in this make-believe world. Ahhh, those were the good old days! (These new days aren't bad either!) We bought a two day tour which was only a formal group tour for about four hours. Rush here, rush there, eat fast, visit rug dealers, etc. It was actually a good overview for us and some of it was hilarious! We were sent to the English speaking salesperson for organic health medicines. He would have made a great comedy series on American television. It was a scream and well worth the tour price. Lunch was at a restaurant filled with groups like ours. Local musicians dressed in the local garb. They were actually pretty good and the meal was okay. The rest of the group left and we were taken (walked) to our hotel by an “old city” guide that had been hanging out with the tour leader. The old city is called the medina and is teaming with folks walking in the very narrow “streets”. 4 to 7 feet wide...buildings rising 3 to 4 floors and growing closer together at the top. And there is no rhyme or reason....so, yes, a guide is helpful. Our hotel was the best! The floors, walls and ceilings filled with decoration...and furnished in more fabric decoration and decorated urns etc. Really a wonderful feast for the eyes. Our room was on the first floor...walk up stairs. Beautiful new tiled large bathroom and comfy beds. Hot water is only available certain hours in the morning and evening. TV with BBC available so we sort of got caught up. After a rest we decided to go out by ourselves before dinner at 7:30 in the hotel. (2 hours difference in time in Morocco 1:00...from Spain 3:00 across the channel) We started toward the narrow streets but before we got out of the hotel gate, we had a guide. There is a bar across from the gate where they all hang out. Mustapha was great and gave us an hour and a half tour to the small market, the big market, weavers of beautiful fabrics, sewers of caftans, a Jewish quarter museum, pottery, a gallery of local art run by a French couple...and waitied patiently while David and I took many many photos. The caftan fellow made David get into one of the robes....a little too short for him. We have a photo. And before I knew it I had a womens' costume on with hat and scarves and skirt which would not go all around me. That caused lots of laughter. We had a wonderful afternoon and arrived back at our hotel with plenty of time before dinner so we sat outside, overlooking the port and had a drink and also had a good conversation with a young Irishman, traveling with 4 couples all over Morocco with packs on their backs. They had arranged their own tour....buses, hotels, guides etc. Then at dinner which was in a beautifully appointed room inside, looking over the port, we talked with more folks...same at breakfast, outside with good conversation with an Australian couple. We walked into the newer city along a promenade across from the water. Because of lack of money, many port projects are happening very slowly. We found a nice restaurant and sat outside to watch the Moroccans go by on a Saturday. Beautiful families, men in the caftans and low-crotch pants (which were showed to us on the caftan maker!) and women in tight jeans with head scarves but also the beautiful long dresses and scarves. Very beautiful combinations of patterns. The women looked lovely. So we caught a late afternoon boat home. The boat is fast, about 35 minutes...but the showing of passports over and over again takes time. We picked up our van at an inside parking lot and began our trek to Granada, which is where we are today.

We drove into the outside city and parked in a free space on the street and got ready to investigate the city. Two women were taking a walk and coming toward us. “Do you speak any English?” Well, it turned out that one, Rosa, was an English teacher and the other was her sister, a radiologist. “Come with us! We are going in that direction and we will show you where everything is!” So we walked and talked the whole way into the center of town where after the two cheek kisses to say goodbye, we left them. It was Sunday, so everyone was out on the streets! The walk had been long so we sat to have our beer, and bread and cheese...then took off to walk the Moslem section of the old city. Up and up and up on more of those narrow streets, but these were clean, open to the sky and hidden gardens to peak at along the way. When we reached the top there was a square where everything was happening! A bazaar of jewelry, puppies for free, music playing, belly dancers...a mixture of young Romas/gypsies and hippies hanging out selling their wares and living the life. There was also a lovely garden beside the mosque where we heard a relatively quiet call to prayer. There is a delicate balance on what the Spanish will tolerate in their country at the moment. Today we have tickets into the Alhambra. More later.HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHIRLEY!

The Alhambra was well worth the day. A large area on top of a hill of course. It is the best and last Moorish palace as the Christians finally took it in 1492. It is truly spendid. I love patterns, and even more than that I love patterns upon patterns. Luscious! First, the Generalife Gardens take up much of the space. Gardens for the people, gardens for worship, gardens for beauty, gardens for vegetables...some finely kept hedging, maize like. Always a place to sit and rest. Always a surprise around the next corner. We also visited the Alcazaba, the military fort, empty but with stairs to towers and views. We did not go to the museum, Charles V palace as it was closed on Monday...it is the art museum now. But the most important place, and the loveliest , was the Moorish palace...Palacios Naxaries. A feast for the eyes and the imagination. There are many beautiful tile patterns but the palace in general seems white...as above the colored tiles the rest is white patterns of flowers, leaves etc. and...calligraphy in Arabic in words from the Quran. The inscriptions make patterns, next to each other, on top of each other. The ceilings are mostly white with patterns of light from being open to the air, such as stars shapes. Also, the size of rooms and courtyards does not overwhelm. It is a really liveable size. The work that went into all this. The artisans must have been so proud of what they did... the beauty, the perfection. It had to be a satisfying job, though maybe not a well paid job. We had done so much walking in this great city, along it's promenades and shopping streets that when we were done at the Alhambra we hired a cab to take us to our home (van). HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICKI!

We are running out of time to get to Italy to meet Gary and Donna so now we hurry! We choose Lorca as our next stop. East through foothills of Sierra Nevada mountains. It is a mixture of bare jagged rock and round-tree forests and always the huge snowy mountains in the background. The road narrows as we go through less inhabited places, but always there are villages along the way, and always Shepherds with their dogs herding the sheep to good green grass. Stains of the reddest earth I have ever seen (even in Prince Edward Island!). Houses begin to show up that are built into the earth or rock. In the Sierra de Baza a huge rock quarry dazzles in the distance...all white and in blocks while the rest of the low mountain stands as always clothed in its greenery. Probably it's turn will come. In Lorca we chase to the walled castle at the top of it's hill, but it is closed. Last year at this time, Lorca was the epicenter of a large earthquake. Thousands were injured, old buildings tumbled down in pieces. The whole city is being returned to it's former self. Buildings being braced and built again. Lorca was a famous Spanish poet. I thought that I had brought his poetry along to read but can find it nowhere so instead I read some of another famous poets, Antonio Machado. Wonderful stuff! Here is one for you.

Idling once in a dream,

the hand that sowed the stars

plucked a single string of the vast lyre.

The long-forgotten music came to life

and a humble ripple ended at our lips,

carrying some few brief words of truth.

This country of Espagne is really full of life and love and warmth and beauty. We love it.

From Lorca we drive to Caravaca through green hills and terraced rice fields and find our resting place by a park in the city. We have driven through the city and found about six blocks of red bleacher seats set up. For what? We make things up but finally talk to someone who says that there is a festival starting this weekend. The people will be watching horses race through the streets and up the hill to the castle among other celebrations. It is the festival of Christians and Muslims. Here they recognize the history of their area and celebrate it. The next morning we woke to drums and flutes marching down our street. I pulled back the curtain from my bed and waved. Got a big smile and a thumbs up from one of the marchers. Next our car goes into the VW dealer for an oil change and a general check. While we wait we walk up the street to a local restaurant and it is hopping! Mostly full of guys on their lunch break (of 2 hours here in Spain). But the thing that amazed us is that there were bottles of hard liquor at every table. Just ask for what you want and the waitress will bring it. The men pour it into their coffee or other unknown cups of liquid. We asked the waitress how she kept track of what they drink so they pay the correct amount. “Oh, we can tell by looking at the bottle and how full or empty it is.” She brought us a sample which name I have forgotten but means “from the grapes” and is made from the grape sludge left over from regular wine making. It is potent and delicious. There are different kinds. Ours was like a Bailey's Cream but with a totally different very delicious taste. We ordered some sandwiches but had to try some other foods on display even if we really did not know what they were. The octopus tentacles were really good, but the brains were too slippery for me!

Car work completed we headed east again toward Valencia. Incredibly beautiful country. Chose the slow road again and once more were rewarded. At first the terrain was much like the Bakersfield, California corridor. Fruit trees, vineyards, sweetly shaped olive trees. The hills are loaded with wind turbines which look like white forests from a distance, their branches waving in the wind. There are old vines without green growth yet. Maybe white grapes as we are in a high elevation. We stop for the night in Turis, just a few kilometers from Valencia. Lots of building of condos/apartments but some are empty and some stalled in the process because of the economy. We walk to the center of town which always offers a plaza with folks socializing. We wake to music again, but this time it seems to be on a truck close-by and then a voice breaks in with a speech. “Vote for me!”?? Since we don't know Spanish we will never know.

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

>On our way through all the beauty we came across two nuclear cooling towers. Shocking. It always is.

> We see the sign CANADA often with a cow. It is a certain type of road crossing the cows can not go over.

> So many castles on top of hills...and towns that developed below them.

> We talked to a young Spanish woman who told us that she and her boyfriend wanted to travel to the US very much. Money was so scarce at this time...she was coming from the tax office asking for more time. But she said, she also wanted to be a mom soon. She had told her boyfriend that they could travel later...and then she ran into us and saw that their dream really could come true later in life.

> The road signs that warn of curves ahead...they are all the same curve, unlike ours that tell you what kind of curve you can expect.

> We notice that the workers in the smaller town streets often stop to talk with locals. Things are a little more laid back here!

> I need to widen my vocabulary. Sorry about that. How many times can I describe something as “beautiful”?

Portugal

PORTUGAL Monday, April 9

Leaving Segovia we made a quick trip six miles south to La Granja Palace. It sounded like a must see, called the Little Versailles built by French born King Philip who was very homesick for his country. It is evidently restored to it's original splendor inside but as so often happens on Mondays it was closed. We did stroll the gardens but the area is up against the Sierra Guadarrama mountains so not much was happening, not even some pansies! It would be smashing in another month. However there were many statues in the gardens which is always interesting to us. And some good architectual details on the palace for David.

From this point we decided to hightail it to Portugal. We have less than a month to “do” Spain and Portugal. So we got on the autoways and traveled fast. I like to put small towns in the GPS so that we find some places of real interest. So after the Spanish/Portugal border we started along a rough narrow road. Oh my. This was so similar to the Transylvanian villages we know. Ladies wearing skirts and wooly sweaters, and scarves on their heads carrying buckets to or from the main water well in the center of town. The land around was so magic! Rolling hills of scrub brush, creamy colored Scotch broom, and some planted fields but it was all amongst stones...huge and gathered stone places that felt spiritual, like the native Indians would have gone to meditate...or spend days alone. And scattered stones everywhere. A glacier had to have come through here. A few scrub tree forests also. Fences are built of stones standing upright or walls stacked with stones. Most of the houses are sturdy because they are built with stone. Folks stared at us. “How on earth did they find us?”, they seemed to say. This was the highlight of the day for us. I get the good feeling that lives can be very rich when folks stay put. When they know their piece of countryside well. When their friends have been with them from birth...married and had children together. Buried parents together. Old old buildings, beaten trails to one anothers houses, traditional customs and history built on top of history. Churches built by hands of ancestors. Trees planted by a family member so far back that their names are long forgotten. When the presence of others who lived before you is evident all around you, there is an undeniable longing for the stories of their lives and personalities, unknown but dear. Sheep are on the road. A shepherd comes over the rise. A shepherd's staff in one hand. A jaunty hat, a cotton red scarf around his neck. The ruddy face of a shepherd who has always been. Shepherds that we think no longer exist. We bumped into the town that I had targeted on the map. Freixedas. Our GPS actually said, “Driving on an unpaved road”! We drove up to the old church. A man was walking toward us and decided to come and talk though again we had to use hand signals. He was eating an apple that had been carefully peeled and quartered and held in his big farm hands. Hmmm. Just where are these people from as he looked at our license plate. “Washington”, he said and nodded his head. He understood that we wanted to stay the night. We were pointed and escorted to a big grassy treed park and then our friend proceeded down the road to tell the neighbors that we were from the USA and we would be in the park all night. So I guess we are in good hands.

THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> Spanish is such a beautiful language. I did not realize it because it is usually spoken so fast and with such gusto. Spoken slowly the words are lovely to say.

> Forget those docile creamy blond French cows I told you about...we are now into black and even the lady cows have horns.

Wednesday, April 11

This evening we are in a big bay in Foz do Arelho. We have been to several other “fishing villages” today, Nazare and Sao Martinho, but none of them have much of a fishing community anymore. Today they seem to be resort towns. Golden sand beaches with hills overlooking them. Lots of places to park and wander the promenades or the beaches. Many restaurants and hotels. But we were really looking for a fishing village. Earlier we stopped in Batalha to visit a monastery topped with more outrageous Gothic decoration but David noted that the designs were more refined that what we had been seeing. Now tucked in our van, we just finished two games of Skipbo and David won both of them. And I am such a poor sport! With dinner we tried two wines famous in the Douro river valley , Galacia, green wine from the grapes of the more north region (white wine) and a Port wine from the southern Porto region. The green wine is really good. A bit tarte, a bit flowery...different grapes and a region we are not used to. The red port is sweet to be sipped before or maybe after dinner. Just like another local famous wine from the Basque area, Txaklita (or something like that). It was another wonderful white wine. So we have had our share of drink tonight...with rain on our roof and a candle for atmosphere.

Yesterday we drove down the Douro river. Grapes growing on high steep-sided hills coming out of the mountains. Terraces everywhere to make a place to grow grapes and a few orchards. Terraces from the top of the hills to almost the bottom where sheer cliffs began. The towns along the way, Lamego, Resende, Oliveria, Cinfaes all with red terracotta tile roofs sheltering white-walled homes. At Castelo de Palya we drove over the Douro to Porte. It was 4:00 pm (time zone change) and David had a toothache. The pain was bad enough that he asked for a dentist. Now Porto is huge. How do we get this taken care of? Well, we had the help of so many great people. There was absolutely no place to park in the city so David dropped me off at the Tourist office. Two women there got on it immediately until they had an appointment for David at 6:00 pm not too far away. We had maps and address but “DO NOT ENTER” signs kept getting in our way until we were totally confused. We found parking but we did not know where we were. An East Indian man came out of his shop and asked if we needed help. Did we! It was getting closer to six. He called us a cab, insisting that the building was not far but it would be so much easier to have someone take us who knew the city. Our van would be fine in front of his shop. So a nice young cab driver showed up and got us there and made sure we went into the right door. Well, it was the wrong clinic! A patient who was just leaving his own dental appointment volunteered to find David's dentist. And what a fine dentist. He had David's tooth removed in under one half hour. $50. David is doing really well. All along the way we have had help from so many good people.

As you can imagine we did not do much in Porto. We saw quite a bit of the important places and areas of interest from our van but finally settled on the wide Douro river at the bottom of the town hills with fishermen all around us. The city looked alive and well, an industrial working city with lots of amenities for its residence.

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

> Spring is much further along here. Red poppies, wisteria in bloom, ripe tangerines and lemons, potatoes (no flowers yet), California poppies, bridal veil spirea, lilacs, roses. It is lush here like our Pacific west coast (but more like California lush).

> Many women still wear aprons here. They wander outside and are too busy to think about it. Some aprons are so pretty and clean that I think they are part of their clothing.

> Grafiti is really good everywhere we have been. Some of it approaches art pieces. They are carefully thought out, executed and painted. I actually enjoy looking at them.

> A different combination...eucalyptus and pine trees growing equally in forested areas.

> The GPS finds us gas stations and grocery stores along the way.

> The receptionist in the dentist office is a big reader but she reads all her books on her “Notebook” as books are very expensive in Portugal. Most books have to be translated and that adds that expense. Also, Portugal publishers (or sellers of books there) do not believe that people should be reading, or would read, the shocking parts so authors have to agree to remove them for sales here. This is not a government decision but the publishers decision on what people want. The young receptionist thought it was a shame and not at all what most would choose.

> In Portugal, English is their second language and all learn it in school. Nice for us!

> Gary and Donna. I think you should paint your Manson home white and tile the roof with Spanish terracotta! And I think that you should start a trend there on the buildings amongst the vineyards. It would look so amazing in that beautiful wine country.

> We are just getting into seeing wonderful decorative tiles. Most of what we have seen so for are blue and white.

> The freeways here in Portugal have nice rest stops with toilets!

> Fields of cabbage grow tall and have gone to seed with yellow- green flowers.

APRIL 13

Oh dear. It is 10:30 pm and I have two days worth to tell...and lots happened. Obidos: Obidos is a medieval walled city that has gone through rebuilding several times. There are people living in it still. We do not have a guide book with us for Portugal so we don't know quite what to expect. This time it was tourists. Buses and buses. Kid's classes, lots of people from China, and everywhere else. I think the break of Holy Week continues this week as kids are everywhere on vacations. We went through the stone town gate and on to the narrow street which leads up to the castle. The streets were filled with shops. Some interesting, some not. When we reached the castle area there was a huge Disney-like pink castle in front of it...I think just for kids to play in. It was rather shocking. There was something different about this little town...it seemed in celebration. There were no rules about where you could and couldn't go. David and I even walked half-way round the rampart walls. Scary. One side was not protected and the drop was straight down. Some of the way was so skinny that I was hanging on to rock as I walked...you know that feeling that something is drawing you to the edge. We did find one serious gallery with some interesting work in it. Drawings of opera costumes and sets. Paintings of the old city incorporating people and daily life of medieval times. Quite stylized and fluid. So that done we were heading south to Sintra.

WOW! Sintra was the place the Moors occupied from 711 to 1492 when the Christians in Europe finally sent them packing back to Northern Africa. There are many traces of the culture in this area. When you drive into the city you cannot believe what you are seeing. The Moorish ruins sit so high up on a mountain (well a very very high promentory) with forest from it's base to the top. There is a Christian-built castle at the same level on another hunk of the mountain within walking distance. It is all remarkable and provides a place to bring Robinhood and his merry men back. Or King Arthur. There was a pond with a medieval tower in the middle. Yes, King Arthur's sword could be in there. Even the trees are fantasy-like. Tall trunks with umbrella shaped tops. David and I drove to a parking place, we did not walk from the bottom, but from there we chose to go to the military Moorish stronghold as the history there is so important to this region. We took a footpath which gave us a glimpse of the long wall and lookouts showing through the trees. I imagined the people walking up and up and up to get there as some of the 500 soldiers had their families there also. And those who would be servants...and what about horses on this sometimes very steep trail. It was a very long way from the bottom. I imagined their clothing, what they would carry. There are still water gathering wells along the road. I am not one to remember much about history but when I am faced with it the excitement is certainly there. We walked past a church and surrounding graveyard that is being excavated. Past that and into the walled area. And then up high stone stairs until I thought I'd die and did not want to think about going down them again. The top was a lookout even to the sea. It would be hard to surprise this group but it finally did happen with a siege of the Christian army surrounding them. The best way to see this place is to catch a bus from the town center...when you are finished just wait for a bus to take you back down...though we did notice some little cars smaller than Smart Cars for rent. It is a long winding drive and sometimes hard to find parking.

I wanted to tell you about the square we slept in in Sintra. Quite large triangle-shaped, all cobble-stoned and with plenty of trees. Sycamore trees that have been pruned to death with little sticks coming out of the nubs...trying to grow a few leaves. No real branches allowed! The commercial sections were in an L-shape. On one side an Indiana Cozinha and then someone's house, a bank and then an Italian Cozinha. On the other side of the L was a coffee/pastry shop, a veterinarian, a snack shop, a hardware store and something called Adventura. We counted how many ate dinner at the Indian and the how many at the Italian restaurants ....worked out about equal, but pretty slow business. People eat very late. A man, his wife, a spotted dog and some other guy lived in the house. The man took his dog out and spent quite some time chatting with another man with a little dog. The dogs had a great time....and so did their masters. Finally, a shake of the hand and the men parted. Much to the dogs' dismay! In the middle of the night some drunks came by...I thought they were going to knock on the car door. They had quite a discussion which of course I did not understand. Early in the morning a garbage truck, then some delivery trucks. The coffee/cake shop is very busy in the morning. Everybody meeting their pals. Children being walked across the square to school. Clutches of old guys (our age) standing on the sidewalk leaning against a store swapping stories. Hats are like the one our friend Bert wears, called a Driver's Hat. The colors of all the establishments are cream, white, apricot, yellow, green, lemon and butter...all soft and worn. Ladies rush  by...some in skirts, short skirts with tights and boots, scarves and often smoking cigarettes. Others have tight jeans on...lookin' good. And one with a track suit. One was wrapped in a green blanket making her way to coffee with two friends. Construction guys in their matching uniforms are waiting around for something or someone to show up. It is fun belonging to this community for awhile. butter...all soft and worn. Ladies rush by...some in skirts, short skirts with tights and boots, scarves and often smoking cigarettes. Others have tight jeans on...lookin' good. And one with a track suit. One was wrapped in a green blanket making her way to coffee with two friends. Construction guys in their matching uniforms are waiting around for something or someone to show up. It is fun belonging to this community for awhile.

We went along from here to Calares. The GPS was not being helpful to get us to the city center and we were just too tired to fight it out so we made lunch and decided to head to our next destination.

We did not even know where or what we were looking for! Ah but we saw it on the top of a hill. A beautiful church of different style. I can only think it was Moorish and would have offered beautiful art decoration. We probably made a big mistake in not turning back but we kept going only to be rewarded and hour or so later with some amazing megaliths. There were two sites, about a mile from each other. One was a single stone which we hiked to through lovely green fields dotted with trees and goats (with bells on, sounded like the movie Mannon and the Spring). We drove on through Cork trees! Something I have never seen before but David recognized them. Their trunks were stripped smooth dark brown and the branching was bumpy and spongy and a light greenish color. As we drove we went through sections that were numbered...7...8...3 etc. A tracking system no doubt. And then we came upon a huge stone circle! The biggest in the Iberia area. It was not a simple pattern like I have seen before...usually a single circle with a flat stone somewhere inside (for sacrifices?) There was one large flat stone but maybe about 50 large stones and many smaller ones placed in what seemed random to me but I am sure had some meaning to it. The circle was oblong and it is thought that it had been altered by subsequent users of the area. It is very exciting to be among. David said he would like to stay a day and see what might happen. It is the energy one feels, along with the mystery. Who were these people and what were they up to? Tonight we sit outside another huge walled city that is still a full functioning city. Tomorrow we will explore it.

SOME THOUGHTS and OBSERVATIONS:

> In two months we have spent 1,565.33 euros on gas.

> David is the tallest of men here. Easy to spot.

> Purple and yellow ice plant shows up at this point.

> I have a confession. My niece, Heather is posting my blog. I seem unable to make it work so I write it and send it to Heather. And for those of you who are thinking that I spend far too much time writing, I write at night when David has gone to bed. My office is the passenger seat with glove box open and my pillow on it for a desk. It works really well and is quite comfy!

> If you come traveling for a long time bring dark indigo jeans. They never seem to get dirty and because they are dark you can dress them up a bit.

> I brought my knitting with me...lots of yarn. Stuffed the small cupboards with it. What a dream. And I brought tons of art stuff for both David and I....also a dream. I have sketched once. Ah but I am taking such pictures with enough inspiration to last the rest of my life!

April 15

Well, exploring Evora didn't happen though we saw much of it two or three times by car. It rained most of the night which was nice to hear on the roof when you are all covered up with a down comforter, but when it comes time to spending a day under an umbrella, we couldn't make ourselves do it. So we went round and round in the van trying to find the temple of Diana and did get a photo. (I was thinking of you Lou Converse.) We moved on to Mourao on a still rainy windy day. At the top of the hill was a walled military fort with church. Small. We climbed around inside the walled ruins until the rain hit hard and sent us to our car...but on the way I stopped to take a picture of the explanation on the wall and excused myself to a family having a picnic right there. “Hey, we are having a Portugese picnic!” Tables and stools were out...and on the table was rice, rabbit and red wine. They were all tucked in a little corner of the stone wall with the car next to them. Away from most of the wind and rain. We answered all their questions, I took a photo of them and then said our goodbyes. No kidding! All the wonderful people in this world. David and I went for a walk though the old part of town and checked out the library. Beautiful and comfy in an old building, 3 stories up. With a final wave to our picnic friends as they were going for some hot coffee, we made our way to a new destination. Small roads were the order so we drove through lovely quiet country through Moura (without the “o”at the end) and found some great art decoration some of the homes. Murals and art pieces all over the walls. A nice surprise. That is what I love about the old and quiet roads. The surprises that are not written in any guide books.

Next stop: Serpa. Another enclosed walled town. Very quiet. We walked around and snooped in the squares and found ourselves a place for dinner. David had a big hankering for some salt cod, a dish that a Portugese friend had made for him years ago...that he could still almost taste! A lovely restaurant a couple of floors up, on the main square and we were seated at about 9:00 pm. Fashionable, don't you think?! David's food was great, mine not so good. I ordered local lamb but found the presentation boring...and not as tasty as I would have liked, but still, I don't mind taking a chance on something that is a local favorite. We slept just inside the city wall.

April 15

Tavira. We drove down to Tavira on the south coast of Portugal, not too far from the Spanish border. Now here is a town. It was spread out all over but we did not experience that part of it. We were in the old town again walled, but much smaller. We did lots of walking here, along the river of fresh and salt water mixed with the flow of tides. Lots of working fishing boats. Many moored next to the peer and smaller ones tied up so that they could move with the tide on and off the beach. A local market was going on in a covered pavilion. Not the regular markets that we had experienced. This seemed far more home-spun. Booths of sweet baking, of breads, jewelry, some wines (maybe home grown also) embroidery and lace. On a different route back to our car we climbed into the old city and had such surprises at the gardens we found, worked into the spaces between the walls. Botanical gardens with trees and flowers all labeled. Over the walls we could see into the back areas of residences that were backed up against the high stone walls. Some large round ponds belonging to the medieval spaces. Vegetable gardens, chickens, chairs and tables set to visit and eat outside. We walked around the church. Lately they seem to all be locked. I'm not sure if it is because of theft or that the churches are no longer kept up. Next on our list...laundry. So that is how we closed our day. This is a lovely spot. And still a fishing port.

Basque Country

March 31

We discovered a few days ago that we were out of propane (LP) and when we went to refill we found that the American coupling was a different size than the European one.... so we could not fill the tank. Now what. Stuff in the refrigerator, no coffee in the morning? We drove quite a ways to Bayonne, then were sent to another town and finally went another hour to Orthex and found someone who cared! This was certainly different that our pastoral experience of the last few days. Traffic, noise, getting lost, going the wrong direction. Very frustrating. Alain spent time calling to try to find this part. Finally we decided that he should install a European system with an extra part for two countries that don't use the same system! And when we get home we will have the American one put back in! How's that! But we have to wait until Tuesday afternoon to have it installed so here we are wasting time in the French Basque area again, darn!

Because we do not often have access to water, we have been using bottled water to clean up our sparse dirty dishes but we were stopped in a small town and David noticed there was a faucet available in the men's bathroom...close to where we could park. Well, guess what! The hose threads were not the same! European threads are bigger. So we duct taped the parts together and hung on to them tight and it worked!

And at another small town we noticed a butcher was open. What a happy guy. We had to play charades to get what we wanted. Our question was, “Can you eat this cold or does it have to be heated?” Finally I shivered to make him understand cold. Shaking his head he ran to get his cigarette lighter and flicked on the flame. So we got our answer. It needed to be heated.

And we got pulled over by the Gendarme again. This time all the officer needed was to hear our spoken English and he said, “Go.” Maybe having these American license plates is a really good thing. One man said to us, “This is the first time I see with my eyes a car with U.S. license plates.” And since most police cannot speak or read English, they really don't know what our papers say. It embarrasses them.

We drove by a paddle ball court and watched four men play. This is a variation on a national Basque game. Small wood paddles and a hard fast ball. Participants play against a wall with a line painted across it lower than a tennis net. I believe two and four can play. It is really fast. There are covered courts here with bleachers. But the real game is called Pelota and is played with a long hooked racket that sends a hard bouncy ball to 150 miles an hour.

Yesterday afternoon we decided to stop early and take a break. Our camp spot was down a dirt road to the river Oloron at Navarrenx. We were alone in paradise. Out came our chairs and table to the river's edge. I sketched while David got some hors d'oeuvres and wine out as we enjoyed the warm sun. We have had some pretty nice inexpensive wines. We watched a white heron spying from his high perch...then fly to a new one. Birdies stay up late here. Bedtime does not seem to be at sundown. They just keep chirping.

Tonight we are in another small town parking lot. There is an old church but everything else is newer....and some apartment buildings are new. Lots of apartments. The first grouping we have seen outside of large cities. I think it is a bedroom community for St. Jean de Luz. We attach our apartment on wheels to theirs and spend a night with them.

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

> Three cities/towns that we went to, St. Jean Pied de Port, Espelette (Red hot peppers and chocolate) and Ainhoa were recommended places for us to see. They are all rather touristy, even off season. We strolled around, had our afternoon beer at a sidewalk table, but it seems we prefer the real thing untouched unless the stores are really good. St. Jean Pied de Port is the meeting place for pilgrims walking the trail to Santiago and is quite famous. I can imagine it is amazing when this happens.

> David pointed out the wiggly lines of pee that the sheep leave as they cross paved roads. They don't stop, just keep going and it leaves a tell tale wiggly line. Oh, the sheep crossed here!

> Brown, white and black thrushes are often seen along the fence lines. I have never seen a robin. Pigeons and doves have the upper hand here.

> The outside workers in France have bright two color designer uniforms that look great on them. Different designs and colors for different jobs.

> The dogs who mind the sheep and other odd jobs are literally bright eyed and bushy tailed. There are no slackers!

> One morning David saw a man in a field digging with a pick ax. He had a belt around him with a sack. Any ideas what he was up to? I don't think one would be after truffles or mushrooms with a pick ax.

> I remarked to David that there is almost too much beauty.

April 1 (Happy birthday Sharon Wynne)

Today I got word that my dear friend Carol is in hospice care. She has been so bravely fighting cancer for over three years. We go back a long ways and share many great times and some hard times together and even some sisterly secrets. We learned to cross country ski together and kayak also. She is the most genuine human being I know. What you see is what you get. No games, no hidden agendas. She is leaving her family with a life time of photos and words in a family book. She is very smart. Spent most of her career working at the Oregonian newspaper as a computer programer at first and then on to head the department for many years. She is a hiker and climber of mountains, and the Columbia river gorge and takes beautiful close-up photos of wild flowers. She can knit any design...it is her math brain. She is short! She had a super duper bicycle made for herself. Four of us did a bike trip together up Vancouver Island and back down on the mainland side. She and her family (Husband Hal and two boys Chris (and Victoria) and Greg have traveled all over the world and I mean that literally. They have been gone 3 or 4 times a year as time would allow them. She leaves all her friends so sad and hurting. We needed more time together.

We have spent some lovely time today in St. Jean de Luz. This was such a pleasure on a sunny Sunday afternoon. (Free Parking!) It is a pretty city on the sea with two boat harbors...pleasure and fishing. Long gold beaches stretch in front of the town, with a promenade to enjoy them. We did that and then almost got the blanket and a snack and went to the beach...almost... because we got caught in watching children dancing Basque folk dances to drums and flutes. All in wonderful black, red and white costumes...with berets for the boys of course. (Speaking of Berets, I talked David into buying one and wearing it Basque style so that there is a bill shape in front. He looks extremely handsome!) We also walked the streets and dipped into some fabric shops. Had a sorbet cone. And inspected the church. St. Jean Baptist. Another beautiful alter and painted walls and ceiling. Again the stations of the Cross were done in ceramic and were really descriptive and captivating. I have been drawn to the faces of women statues...Mary and Liberty/Memorial types. The grief and strength of women. There was another really good statue, successfully getting across the sadness of Mary. So this is a good city to come to. High end so the shops are good. Lots of restaurants and street dining. Big square with entertainment. And the beach and harbor.

April 2

Dipping into Spain again we spent our day in San Sebastian. Both the French and Spanish Basque areas speak the same language. Euskara. There is no language related to it. Many signs are in their traditional folk-style type face. They also have a logo or symbol that shows up on everything Basque. Both the French and Spanish areas would like to have their independence. San Sebastian, named after their saint, 1,000 years ago. It is a large city (feeling a lot like California) with a mix of architecture, since the city burned and had to be rebuilt. There are wonderful people spaces...especially in the old town. Narrow streets filled with shops and a square here and there. There is a promenade along the walled waterfront...about 2 miles. Lots of fishing boats. We watched kayakers like baby ducks, following their teacher, all different colored boats. A calm blue blue sea. Marine climate which always makes the view a bit hazy. A swimmer was making his way across from one side to the other. A hill (mountain?) on each end of the big sandy crescent beach and a small island at the entrance to the bay. There is a huge statue of Christ on the north hill, protecting the bay. We climbed and climbed to the top. Then back down to inspect another church that was the biggest of all...it was almost like heaven inside! Such ornate decoration...and tall vaulted ribbed ceilings and some domed. The music was like angels singing. Whew! And beggars at the door. Just time enough to buy some gelatos before the time on the parking ran out.

Enough of the big fast exciting city. We needed to find a relaxing home for the night. How frustrating was that! Too much brand new construction and our GPS went crazy trying to find it's way out. We went over the same freeways, round-abouts and bridges and finally sat still for 10 minutes to try to figure a way out! We did. Came to a beautiful village, La Bastide-Clairence. Let's treat ourselves to dinner! So we found ourselves in a small restaurant, stone walls, teapot and plate collections and just a few quiet customers. David had shrimp. I had medallions of monk fish after a starter of excellent soup. And we had a local bottle of white wine that was perfect. Now we are ready to pull out the bed and jump in. Tomorrow we go back to the garage in Orthez and have the new propane coupling installed.

April 3

Today we took our time over hill and dale inspecting new villages and churches. I am getting to the point that I can't wait to see into one of these painted churches. But this morning was really hard. David and I were having a lot of trouble with the thought of losing Carol or that she might be in pain. I was saddened to the point of tears and really hurting inside for most of the day. Church visits were the perfect thing. David lit two candles for Carol. It helps to think we are doing something positive in some way. The stations of the cross are always good to see...like being in a gallery. Today we saw some spectacular oil paintings. The artist really captured the story and gave it back to us to feel. This church was in Bidache (in case any of you are traveling this way). In the afternoon we arrive at the garage only to find out the the part did not fit and that a new one was coming tomorrow. We needed to find another serene quiet spot to sooth us, close enough to get our car back for it's surgery tomorrow. Sauveterre-de-Bearn. Lots to see in this small place on a river. The medieval town still is here and being used. A great church with inside walls painting everywhere, quite freshly painted. Subtle colors. The walls are painted to look like stone block walls. Though somewhere under there it really is stone. Leaf and flower motifs decorate the pillar bases and tops. And the alter area is loaded. There are old city walls, crumbling towers and draw bridges. We looked over the high town wall and saw a space we wanted to camp. It took awhile, but we found a road that only locals know about and here we are alone again, by a river with medieval ruins surrounding us. David put on a new CD of a Basque mens' choir and we soaked it all in.

To close. We picked up our emails later in the day. From Hal, came the news that Carol was gone. So quickly fading. No pain.

April 4

Wednesday, and yes we finally got the part to our propane tank and we cooked dinner tonight...and there will be coffee in the morning! With a delay of 5 days in this area, we are actually happy we had this time to slowly tour the countryside. For awhile today we were up in the foothills again. In St. Blaise we found a dear little church...not quite Roman, not yet Gothic but a mix of things, some being Spanish decoration. There was a six pointed star stretching from end to end to end in the dome. A very unusual tower of three tiers. A little beauty. We have come almost to Balbao, where we intend to see Frank Gehry's extraordinary architecture for the art museum there. We are in Spain now and have made our way along the coast between San Sebastian and Balbao...Fishing ports, places people love to come to in the summer. I picked one randomly to put into the GPS and here we are in Ondarroa. I can't figure this place out. The town is built from the sea port and along up the fresh water/sea tide river. There are many, many apartment buildings facing the river and backed up against steep cliffs (the sea is on the other side of these cliffs). I don't really see any single houses. There are so many cars parked wherever they can find a spot...legal or not. I don't think parking laws are enforced. When we drove through the streets on arrival, at about 6:00 pm, they were teaming with people maybe going home from work to their apartments, but it seemed many were out strolling and that went on for hours. I have not experienced anything quite like this in any other place. I need to know the history/mystery. Tonight we are camped in a parking lot along with other campers and Rvs. On our side of the river there is a long promenade. We will walk it in the morning and see what we can find out.

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

> A most calming thing...raindrops in a flat slow river.

> Most of the cows in French Basque country are blond.

> My mother would have loved this BLOG.

> Carol made sure that Hal was set up to follow our European adventures when she was gone. (You live life as full as you are able until the very moment you die)

> I could not be enjoying myself on this journey if David were not here to do what he does best...mechanical stuff, cooking, driving, baguette stops, gas and propane fill-up, jokes and just generally taking care of me.

April 5 (Happy Birthday Billy McKee! Xoxoxo)

Well, as Pastor Andy would have said, “Silly, it's Holy Week! That is why the streets are full of folks.” And that is the reason. Celebrations of different kinds and people gone from home on vacations with family. We drove to Lekeitio, another great fishing port. Again apartments were built on the hillside...lots of fine views, but the whole town lived in apartments and they were all out celebrating. As we drove through, we noticed everyone walking one way, all with umbrellas in the rain. Old, young, kids, everyone! What is going on? It must be a religious pilgrimage. So we followed the walkers and the cars and came to a policeman (who spoke Basque). What's going on? He tried to tell us to no avail...but then he whinnied and made a thumpity thump sound. HORSES? Yes, he nodded with a big grin. We went on up the hill to find a parking place. HORSES RACING ON THE BEACH!! Just as we finished parking in a very illegal place the same policeman drove up...Nope...can't park here. Move on. So we did of course and found a place off the road in the ditch. But who cares?! We had to go and see. It was quite a walk to the long open beach but worth it. What fun the whole community was having. An oval course had been set up and it appeared to be local riders and horses running in heats. It was so fun to see those horses race by on the beach. At the turns it was hard because of the soft sand getting softer and softer. Finally, the last race was three ovals and the leader was a whole lap ahead. At one point he turned around to see no one behind him and made his horse run harder! It is a good thing the races were over because the open surf was taking over the sea side of the track! So back we trudged up the hill. David was getting the car onto the road and I was standing on the other side. Who should pull up but our friend the officer. Essentially, he said, “So how was it?” I answered enthusiastically and he grinned again, proud of his town. If you are in this area, the races happen Thursday, in Holy week (week before Easter).

On to the next town of Gernika. Early in WW ll, Franco teamed up with Hitler and offered up this town to receive a test the Germans had developed for strategic bombing. The Germans and Italians obliterated the town during a market day afternoon when many people came into Gernika, to sell or shop. The town rebuilt and made it it's mission to promote peace at all cost. We went to the Peace Museum and were able to feel a little bit of how the that day might have felt to it's occupants. We also saw a positive side of how they moved on and what they did with the tragedy. The city won the highest peace award. Picasso was so upset by this act that he painted a very famous painting that hangs in Madrid.

The other museum that was very interesting to us was the history of the Basque. The language was spoken on both sides of the Pyrenees since the time of cavemen. There are now seven “provinces” of Basque people, 4 in Spain and 3 in France. Their language comes out of all seven areas that were at one time combined as the language they now speak. Most speak Basque, Spanish and French, and many of them speak English. It feels like they are spirited and fun-loving.

And, for Maundy Thursday we went to mass at the beautiful central church. It is hard to find anything but a catholic church to attend. Everyone is catholic.

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

> There are calililies, sweat peas and onions, and weeping willow trees all showing in this climate along with cherry trees in bloom. And Eucalyptus trees.

> My clothes are a little damp in the morning. Coastal marine climate.

> This is a heavily forested pine tree area. We notice that countries that are smaller than the U.S. Or Canada take great care of their forests.

EASTER SUNDAY

We are in Segovia, Spain, about 50 miles north of Madrid. It is a walled city with many cathedrals, churches, castles turned museums, skinny streets with a mix of shops: tourist stuff and high end clothing, kitchen shops and home art pieces. The best part is that folks are parading up and down the streets. Really such fun people watching and trying not to bump into them. And of course it is now the Spanish language that sings through the air. Lots of families. Lots of couples old and young, lots of friends chatting loudly. Everybody is eating something. We ordered something that turned out to be fresh potato chips. Always a weakness of David's but I help him out. We stop in at the Cathedral which is another over-the-top structure. Gothic spires almost like a forest of trees perch on top all reaching for Heaven and flying buttresses supporting everything. The inside was huge and tall, also up into Heaven! The cathedral was finished during the Renaissance so there are a few domed ceilings. But this cathedral is missing the feminine art aspect that others have incorporated so beautifully except for a few good statues of Mary. I have become fascinated with the faces of women. I saw Christ's death over and over in the 18 side-chapels which is not something I usually am happy to see, but today is Easter and it did have an impact that felt right. After this we continued on the same street and walk on to the castle which is where a few Castilian monarchs chose to live. It is now a military/artillery museum along with a wing of the castle royal rooms... after 200 years of serving as a prison. We are high over everything and can view a forest and hills and mountains with snow on them. The most amazing structure here is the 9 mile Roman built aqueduct. Part of it stretches from hillside over to the walled city, 2,500 feet across. It is 2,000 years old built stone upon stone, without mortar. It was used continuously up until the 19^th century. We did not leave the walled area until we walked up to our hotel. What? A hotel?! Yes, well it was time for a good shower and a long session with wifi. McDonald's does not have wifi in Spain! It was quite a shock. But I must tell you about Bilbao and Burgos...

After leaving Gernika we made our was excited to see the Guggenheim museum. Frank Gehry's supposed masterpiece. We took our time trying to stay off the main freeways and finally sailed across the Nervion River bridge and literally gasped. No kidding. It is wild and wonderful. A truly great experience. It is the outside that is so amazing. I did not find the exhibition rooms to be anything but ordinary. And I so wanted to see some contemporary paintings but there was not much offered. However, there is a permanent exhibition of Richard Serra. We both appreciate his work...giant iron naturally textured pieces that you can walk through...in spirals with varying wide and narrow hallways. It was a nice surprise to find a few photographs by a group of men from Vancouver. We were going to stay longer in this city but it was a ZOO. Heavy Easter traffic in car and on foot, in the pouring rain about like Vancouver's weather can be. So we headed out for Burgos. Here we found a cathedral that was the most outrageous of them all. Gothic spires with prickles. Inside was decorated to the very max. Each chapel being built and supported by some rich person...and of course you want to outdo the other guy. There was lots of wonderful art but also some that was too ornate for my liking. I am still so interested in the art of churches, but for me it is the smaller churches where the congregations had to create the beauty in other ways, such as painting on the walls. Simpler structures but beautifully done. As valid an offering to God as the large cathedrals.

We are heading to Portugal's Rio Douro Valley to more vineyards and wine tasting.

THOUGHTS & OBSERVATIONS

> In a town called Portugalete we saw a train car being taken across the river by a moving carrier that was held to a very high bridge-like structure by cables. This way they did not need draw bridges as the river went deep inland as their port.

> This is what we experience: If you can't speak another's language, and you have said something once and it was not understood... just say it again much louder!

> Turning one's world upside down can offer immense creative inspiration. I had no idea how much.

> A painting can inspire. Anselm Kiefer. ”...showed the individual spirit's place within the cosmos.” My belief has always been that our soul “seeds” get used like tools over and over again wherever we are needed.

> We drove over the mountains to Segovia and experienced snow falling.

> The rest stops along the freeways have no bathrooms.

> Lots of storks here. White with some black. Huge nests on trees but mostly on top of church towers. There can be up to 6 on top of a tower. They are feeding their young. David says you can hear their clicking of beaks on top of our hotel roof...we are on the top floor with some skylights.

> I hit a wrong button and got the GPS back to feet and miles. We have grown used to the metric system now.

> Mid-size cities are the most enjoyable. More walkable, free parking and easy to find a spot to overnight. Less hectic traffic! Of course villages are a treat.

Bordeaux

March 22 We went to say hello to Eric and Virginia Hoyte's friend. Her name is Fox (Her maiden name that stuck). She is in her early 80's. She has more recall than I do, and I know that she retains most knowledge she has learned during her life. We went to say hello but stayed and hung out together for a few days. She was not only fun but she was kind and generous to two strangers, really treating us like we were very special guests. And of course we were not strangers when we parted, in fact we are all hoping to meet again and travel in Eastern Europe.

We got quite lost trying to find her and ended up at the family winery/vineyards, Chateau Brandeau, where her son Antony redirected us to the woods and her home. Oh my! There is nothing else to say except that it is magic...almost like driving up to a Brigadoon dwelling...a thin veil that you must walk through to open a quaint stick gate, and cross a stream on a skinny wooden bridge, walk by the mill ponds on your right and the old stone mill building on your left, which has been very carefully and minimally altered to become her's, and late husband Peter's, comfy home...still retaining the early stone built feel. Knock, knock on the door in the evening and welcoming us is a woman with long grey hair pulled up in a knot on the back of her head, of course with a few strands straying. She wears long French blue socks stuck into her favorite slip on shoes, a lovely woven dirndle skirt, blue V-neck sweater with white collar peaking out. She has a dark blue shawl thrown perfectly around her shoulders, and later puts a sweater-jacket on over it all. And she has a lovely smile. She gives us a tour outside and in. It is truly an exercise in making a place comfortable but keeping the country feel of an old working mill. Copper pots hang on shiny blue tiles. Gas stove for cooking and wood stove which goes constantly on these cold spring days. And sometimes for added warmth and ambiance, she lights the big kitchen fire place. This is where we spend most of our time, chatting about places to go, places she has been...and what she knows about their histories. Her love is the art of churches, paintings, icons, sculpture and architecture. We were kept busy writing and pin-pointing places on our maps. We had meals together which she insisted upon cooking. It was very hard to say goodbye to her this morning.

At Fox's encouragement we made our way to Saint-Emillion's pottery museum. (Eric, if you have not seen this you must come back!) The owner of the museum greeted us, probably his only customers that day. A man so passionate about his collections of pottery, over a thousand pieces spanning 20 centuries. His chosen site is a lit underground quarry dating from the 12^th and 13^th centuries which produced the stones to build the town center Chateau de Roy and the town ramparts. It seems impossible that he was able to collect so many examples. Also, the museum carries pottery from local artists, in the same setting. Most of these pieces relate to the collection in some way. It was truly magnificent to walk though. He warned us that if we got lost in the caverns that we should listen for the trickle of water that is part of a small pottery display and head toward it. It worked. One could get lost in this underground wonder. As we talked it was uncovered that he had made a success of a local Chateau vineyard/winery with the help of his father and his own family. He made a very good living and started to work on the museum when he was tired of letting the winery take over his life. (Alphonse, his personality reminded me very much of you.) David and I had just done some wine tasting where we had tried some red wine that had never been in barrels. We were surprised to hear that. This particular bottle of wine was not good. But we had tried some of Fox's son's wine who makes his red wine this way and found it to be quite good. Well, our pottery museum fellow got passionate about this subject. He said that most Bordeaux wines are made this way and that oak is not needed if you know what you are doing!? (What do you think about that Alphonse?)

March 23 We started driving toward the wine area of Medoc and decided that a change of scenery was in order so we switched directions and headed to the coast. And here we found ourselves driving through forests...but they were managed forests as far as we could see. Pine. All lined up in rows. There were stacks of logs all cut the same length (as usual in France), too short to use for building as we would. I have not found out why and what the wood is used for. As I said before, houses are not built of wood. We did find out that the pine forests are sick with that same little pest, the pine beetle and also that they have not had enough rain in the past two years to keep the trees healthy. A research company is working on developing a pine that is not susceptible to this insect. Well this scene of man-made perfect forests soon got tiresome, but we reached the coastal sand dunes that are like our Oregon dunes. While David hiked around the side of the dune to get photos, I had fun watching all the kids playing in it climbing to the top and coming down running or tumbling or diving. (No sand boards or plastic sleds like we saw in California.) The area is quite like California vegetation...and so are the towns more spread out and modern. It was a bit strange. This was a different France than we had been wandering through. A few more visits to more beaches and we headed inland and find ourselves parked on the city ramparts in a most private place with a park on the other side of us. There are cars speeding around on a Friday night just like home. A city that feels about as large as Spokane, Mont-de-Marsan,but again there are wonderful old parts of it. I guess we like the dreamy old medieval architecture that takes us away to a place we cannot find in America. This seems a lively place, very full of activity. It just feels good.

Oh, yes, but I forgot.....we were stopped again by a gendarme group, this time they wanted to see car registration, license etc. Well we had all our papers but the officer couldn't read them anyway. We ended up having a friendly talk. It seems that most police have never seen a US license plate in their country and have no idea what the rules might be for such a car, but we are prepared! David remarked to me that it is not at all scary to be stopped by the French police.... ah, but you should see him when he spots a cop in the States!

And we got our taxes taken care of today! (Thanks to Donna!)

March 24 This morning we walked to Saturday market. A good big one in a large square not far from here. Down a dirt road to the grass-sided river and up some stairs, through a few small streets and there we were. Large indoor section and more on the square. All food or plants/flowers. Fruits, vegetables, sheep and goat cheese, a whole cooked chicken, sausage, smoked herring, a baguette and a couple of treats for us to eat as we walked. David also found some tripe cooked with other ingredients and bought that for his lunch. Now we had so many bags that we had to go back home...our van, situated in the best neighborhood! When the groceries got put away we got the blanket out and snoozed on the grass in the sunshine. The park serves as our backyard.

There is a Sculpture Museum in the old stone buildings next to us. We have never come across that many pieces in one place. The permanent collection took up four floors up, new acquisitions...one floor down, and the rest outside in lovely settings. They were all representing the human figure in free standing or relief. Also, there were many life drawings and preparation pieces, done before the final work. The human being simplified and silent. And beautiful.

In the evening, back to the central square for a couple of beers and people watching.

Thoughts and observations:

> There were four elderly women sitting on a bench behind us in the park, dressed well, laughing a lot. David remarked, “There's the Joanna Chapter!”

> While lying on the blanket looking up at the sky, a sky-jumper parachute came down toward me. We were under a Linden tree and a spinning double seed pod came down from a high branch to the ground beside me. What a show! Really, isn't nature miraculous?

2:00 am March 27

Here I sit in the middle of the night with my headlamp on. Can't sleep. Too much good red Bordeaux wine with Antoinette this evening. She lives in the house above where are car is parked for the night in the foothills of the Pyrenees. Antoinette saw the Canadian flag on our car and came to ask if by chance we were Canadian. She is from Ontario but lives here as a resident for the past 20 years. I can see why. This place is truly amazing.

From Mont de Marsan we made our way to the city of Pau (po like so). Another really lovely city (where Henry the lV was born and laid in a tortoise shell...just for your information). It faces the Pyrenees which stretch for as far as we can see. Big craggy mountains with lots of snow still on them. We spent a pleasant summery day. As usual we walked the streets of the old section and found two most beautiful churches that were painted inside not only with murals but with all sorts of decoration. Yummy! We both love this stuff though David is always fascinated with the architecture also. Then we took in an exhibition of really good (1400) tapestries and illustrated inked manuscripts. Shopping is good in this city. High end clothing stores. The women here know just what to do with those clothes on their slim bodies along with their good haircuts.

We left Pau in the late afternoon with a plan to start heading toward the mountains. We always choose small towns, small roads and this one was a humdinger! One of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life. Steep hills of green pastures and animals and farms and small forested areas in between... and always the mountains. The view is all open without obstruction. Then you drive through a small village down it's skinny streets hoping a car isn't coming...and we arrive here at Antoinette's. A very Canadian personality, which she is but has lived here 20 years. She saw the Canadian flag on our car and invited us in for wine. She loves it in this mountain valley. The view is stunning...craggy snow topped mountains and the town of Arudy below. She is a dancer. Her passion is the Argentinian Tango which she does a couple of times a week. She showed us all her different dancing shoes...spiked heels and sexy. She also spent time with suggestions of where to go next, what to eat etc. We will soon be in the Basque country!

Now, maybe I can sleep! We'll see. The wind is raging outside!

MARCH 28

Morning market in Arudy so we stocked up on fruit and vegetables, a baguette and some Basque cheese. In front of the cheese stand there was a Basque costumed couple painted on a board...Yes, with two holes to put our heads in for photos. David and I were laughing so hard and when we turned to look the cheese lady was laughing with us. She offered to take pictures of us together. It was all very fun, she speaking French and us English...the laughter was the same language. We left for the Pyrenees...for a mountain pass (col) Vallee de l'Ouzom. First through farming villages and pastures and sheep and cows and goats. The the hills started turning into mountains. I am not sure that I can tell you the difference between our mountains in Washington and here. It is the openess I think. From the road you can see all over, there are no giant evergreen trees blocking your few. What there are, but fewer of are shorter pines and deciduous trees which are not yet in leaf. And there are no tourists in weather like summer. So we were pretty much awed most of the way. We reached a large basin at the summit...the beginnings of the Ouzom river starting with streams into streams into streams, building the river. There was still snow and a few climbers, sledders and cross country skiers. You can walk over the mountain grass and snow up into the the highest peak, Pic du Midi ( 8000 ft. +) or up a pass to ski down. (Hal and Carol you would love this!) So I put on my boots and wool sweater and we went for a hike. It was wonderful to be out there.

Time to be on our way and find a place to park the night. We crossed over into Spain and were surprised to find huge resorts, one after the other. Making a loop to go back through the Pyrenees on a different pass, we went through Jaca...a beautiful thriving city. So far, the economic trouble they are in is not evident. We found a quiet spot in a small town with some rocky snowless mountains above...topped by a large knob, circled in rock cliffs. A natural walled fortress. Anxious to see more mountain beauty, we started back to France toward Vallee d'Aspe. We could not read the Spanish and before we knew it we were in long straight tunnel through the mountains...about a 15 minute drive! We saw only trucks, no cars. We were sure that we would be charged a large amount when we reached the other end...and scolded for going through a truck tunnel, but no, it didn't happen. We were now in the high French mountains again and decided to take a some “white” roads. We came back down into the foothills and stopped at a butcher shop to buy some yummy sausages and pates and a jambon pastry then made our way mostly uphill on winding thin roads. Not much traffic, we did see a couple of cars. The view again was breathtaking and we were in high sheep country. The places people live! On the steep side of mountain hills covered in natural pasture for their sheep. Some of the buildings and huts were probably summer places for the shepherds. We saw mountain sheep dotting high places several times. All over the people were burning. There were low fires spreading everywhere. We are not sure about the reason. Maybe as our farmers burn their fields for stronger crops? (in this case grass?) Or there seemed to be a shrubby weed that burned easily. Perhaps they were trying to get rid of that. Anyway, it is a tradition here in the spring. We drove very far and came to a road barrier! Oh no. We don't want to go back! Maybe there are fires? A short distance back there were a couple of men burning and watching their fires so we went to ask them. Of course no English but it is getting so it does not matter. What we understood was...Oh go ahead, the road is good, you'll make it! So we did, but not easily. I get that “queazy” feeling that we are going over the edge. David is such a gauker! Once I had to get out while he made one of the corners! He is a good driver I have to say. He manages to see everything and stay on the road. Tonight we are in a mountain village but sit high above it by the old church and churchyard with all the old family marble graves. The names are strange to us, but it is a good feeling to see the care of these old family roots. The church clock strikes the time twice each hour and it is up to 10. And they are loud and real bells that clang. But I will go to bed and hope not to notice!

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

> We see fly fishermen in the many streams and rivers. David noticed one man studying the insects that were over the fishing hole to choose which fly from his box that he would tie on his line.

> David loves each and every city, town or village tourist office. Always the question, “Do we need anything at the tourist office?”

> Mireille, can you imagine all the French music CDs you gave us in these high mountain roads? It's the best!

> There are large birds soaring around us. One a white falcon, There is a very large bird with a split tail. Don't know what it is but Lonely Planet says there are golden eagles, griffon and bearded vultures, booted eagles and buzzards.

> There were numerous brown bears here at one time but are now very scarce.