Barcelona the Beautiful: A Fitting End to Our 2010 Tour of Spain

We left Haro on July 23, heading east to Barcelona for the final five nights of our tour of Spain. Our drive took us through numerous wind farms, with turbines whirling as far as the eye could see. They reminded us of the storks we had to leave behind in Haro.

We made an unscheduled stop at Lleida, prompted by an article favorite daughter Belén had spotted in the day's edition of El País. Citing fire concerns, the city council had ordered a mosque (actually a garage converted into a prayer hall) closed. The city had earlier prohibited the wearing of full veils in public. Check out Belén's article on the controversy here.

Once in Barcelona, we were able to navigate fairly easily to the Eixample neighborhood, where we had rented a two-bedroom apartment full of Modernista architectural charm but also plagued by a few problems with the hot water heater. Fortunately, another apartment became available . . .

We fell in the love with the neighborhood. Incredible architecture (photos here) was all around us, thanks to Gaudi and his peers. We were reminded of Buenos Aires, but with a thorough steam cleaning and some expansion of sidewalks and streets. We were close to Gaudi's Sagrada Familia (photos here), whose trademark spires we could see from our window, and to the Barcelona city park, or, as it's called in Catalan, "parc de la ciutadella." (Park photos here.) This gem of a green space also houses the Catalan parliament (photos here).

Unlike the Basque language, Catalan is a romance language and similar enough to Spanish that we could understand at least the written version. Try your hand at deciphering this important billboard. Twenty extra points for naming the event it celebrates!

We walked and walked and walked and walked some more. A memorable excursion was our long walk down La Rambla (which quickly became NOT our favorite part of the city) to the port and then over to the Barceloneta neighborhood and the beach. Photos of the port here; photos of the beach here.

And, of course, we made plenty of excursions to restaurants. Our favorite was de Tapa Madre, where we spent one evening catching up with Kurt's niece Sofia and her boyfriend William, who happened to be enjoying their own memorable vacation in Spain before starting college. (Politico Buck Dean also stopped by the table, trying to round up a few votes, but this wasn't a "lock and load" crowd.) In addition to great dishes, de Tapa Madre serves Blanc Pescador, our favorite Spanish white wine and a product of Catalunya. Just a little fizzy, thanks to a short second fermentation. You gotta try it.

El Pais Vasco, or What Do Kurt and St. Ignatius Loyola Have in Common?

Halfway through our stay in Haro, favorite daughter Belén finally recovered from the nasty bug that tagged along with her from London, and all three of us made a day trip to the Basque Country, up higher in the hills and toward the coast, where the fog and cool temperatures set a different mood that complemented the Euskara (Basque) language on highway directions and street signs.

Our first stop was Azpeitia, an incredibly picturesque little burg that was the birthplace of Kurt's great-great-grandmother on his mother's mother's side. Doña Vicenta Azpiazu was the paternal grandmother of Belén Arocena (mother of Kurt's mom Jeanette and namesake of favorite daughter).

Upon our arrival in Azpeitia, we quickly realized that the town was perhaps better known as the birthplace of San Ignatius of Loyola, whose remains are interred in the small yet elegant cathedral built around his family home. Ignatius experienced his famous conversion here as well as he recovered from life-threatening battle wounds. He went on to  establish the Society of Jesus to serve as an army of God. Not surprisingly, Ignatius is the patron saint of soldiers.

The cathedral and its grounds (photos here) are like a mini-Vatican, a jurisdiction unto itself. Directions to the town (photos here) right across the street are provided just in case. There we had a great meal in Kirkuri, a restaurant with no menus: the waitress recites the litany of options, starting with the appetizer, then progressing to main course, and culminating with dessert. Self-serve wine also provided. Total cost: 12 euros per person.

Well provisioned, we headed off to Guernica, ancient capital of the Basques and the target of a devastating bombing attack by German aircraft at the behest of Francisco Franco during the Spanish Civil War. Following Franco's death many years later, the Basque Country regained some of its autonomy, including use of the Basque language. Many still call for complete autonomy, as demonstrated by this highway overpass sign. It's hard to argue with them. Photos of Guernica here.

La Rioja Part II: Holy Moley!

Haro is located on one of the major routes of the Camino de Santiago, which wends its way another 600 kilometers to the Basilica of St. James in Santiago de Compostela. Walking through and around Haro one finds all sorts of signage directing pilgrims along their way, most incorporating some variant on the seashell, a symbol of St. James/Santiago.

Nearby is the town of Santo Domingo de la Calzada, named for its favorite son, who in the 10th century built bridges, roadways, and a hospital to help travelers on the road to Santiago. The cathedral in Santo Domingo contains the remains of the saint, along with a coop full of live chickens, honoring Dominic's most famous miracle.

The story is that a young man was wrongfully hanged for a crime he did not commit. When his parents went to remove his body from the gallows, they found he was still alive. They rushed to the local authority, disrupting his lunch of roasted chicken. "Your son," he assured the parents, "is no more alive than this chicken," at which the bird rose up from the plate and began crowing. 

Santo Domingo - for all you engineers out there - is the patron saint of roads, bridges, and water projects. Just in case you need a little help. . . . 

Down the road from Santo Domingo de la Calzada is the village of San Millán de la Cogolla, home of the Suso ("upper") and Yuso ("lower") monasteries. The former was founded in the 6th century and the latter 10 centuries later. The monasteries have been designated a UN World Heritage Site; the first written evidence of the Spanish language comes from Suso, where monks annotated Latin texts with the vernacular. 

More photos of Santo Domingo de la Calzada here. Photos of San Millán here.

La Rioja Part I: Storks & Wine and More Argentines

Favorite daughter Belén never made it to Nerja; her interview with Rattansi & Ridley plus other business matters had kept her in London until our last day in southern Spain. So as we left Nerja on the morning of July 16, we drove first to the nearby city of Málaga, where we picked her up at the airport before turning north toward La Rioja, considered by many to be the premier wine country of Spain. (Tho for us Argentine wine is still the best!)

We arrived in Haro about 9 pm, about an hour before sundown. We were pleasantly surprised by a cool mountain breeze that required us to pull out our sweaters. A nice - albeit shortlived - change from the heat of the south. Through HomeExchange, we had arranged to trade our rental apartment in Buenos Aires for a comfortable loft in Haro, in a building owned and operated by a Spaniard and his Argentine wife, Sandra. Another small world moment.

Haro is a delightful town, very manageable in size and full of picture-perfect architecture and landscapes. And the food is quite tasty, especially at our favorite restaurant Terete, specializing since 1877 in cordero asado (roasted lamb). Who knew roast lamb was so good? We also recommend the roasted chicken and the bean and chorizo soup. Alas, we never got around to trying out the desserts. 


Haro bills itself as the wine capital of the wine province, a claim that certainly seems fairly justified by the numerous bodegas around the town as well as the many wine and tapas bars in the center.

The most impressive venue we visited was Bodega López de Heredia Viña Tondonia, the third oldest bodega in the province and a real gem of facility, with eye-popping facilities, hand-hewn storage caverns underneath the production area, its own barrel-making workshop, and a delightful tasting room. More photos from this and other bodegas in the area here.

Also impressive were the storks that seemed to have built their huge nests on just about every chimney and steeple in the town. From our living room we could see - and hear - 4 pairs of storks, some still with offspring that showed up regularly at dinner time. Rather than singing or chirping, storks clatter their long beaks while making gutteral noises. Kurt mastered a very good imitation of the interesting sound that is produced. Stork watching became a ritual, as evidenced by this small sample of many many stork photos we took. And for those similarly smitten with these huge gawky miracles of flight, here's a fact sheet on their habits.