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Winter escape to Andalusia
Asked to write about a winter escape to Andalusia, southern Spain, has me wondering where on earth
to start. So much heritage and culture; of Romans and Moors, festivals and flamenco (we’ll pass on the
bullfighting). Such big landscapes; high sierras with karst peaks and holm oak forests, plains lined with olive
trees as far as the eye can see, white villages and golden beaches. So many bodegas (bars), so many tapas!
Perhaps I could start with the lunch I
enjoyed while hundreds of pink famingos
‘dined’ on the marshy fats in front of the
restaurant veranda at El Rocio, beside
Doñana National Park. This picturesque,
historic town with sandy roads and wild
west feel, would change dramatically at
Pentecost, when thousands of pilgrims
arrive by horse drawn wagons for the
annual El Rocio pilgrimage.
The adjacent, world heritage listed Doñana
sprawls across the massive Guadalquivir
River delta. It is one of Europe’s most
important wetlands and a stopover
sanctuary for millions of migratory birds
fying their own ‘winter escape’ from
Europe to Africa.
Another day I explored Doñana’s southern
dunes and endless beach, watched
fshermen dragging heavy dredges for tiny
shellfsh delicacy, coquina. We followed
the fshers back to estuary town Sanlucar
de Barrameda and washed down their
sweet, steamed catch with manzanilla, the
local sherry.
On the topic of sherry
I could start with visiting Jerez de la Frontera
and boutique winery Bodegas Tradición,
which produces some of the fnest vintages
of this famous sherry making region. The
delicious, syrupy Tradición Pedro Ximenez
was one example, though at 55 euro a
bottle it was a surprise when host Sabrina
suggested I pour it over ice cream. Sabrina
was into sherry education. “People treat
sherry as an aperitif but you can also take
it slightly chilled with food. We also cook a
lot with sherry; oxtail stew with Oloroso is a
regional classic.”
Bodega Tradición, built against the walls
of the old Arabic city Xerez, is all about
tradition. Grapes are hand-picked, wine
siphoned by mouth into casks for ageing
and bottled by hand. Not a machine in
sight. Even if you don’t like sherry it’s worth
a visit here to see the private art collection;
representing classic Spanish painters from
the fourteenth to the twentieth centuries.
Four Picasso-painted tiles decorate the
tasting room, and even this art philistine
recognised the names El Greco, Velázquez
and Goya.
Still in Jerez, I could start by describing
the elegant prancing and dancing of the
Spanish pure bred horses performing at
the Royal Andalusian School of Equestrian
Art. These horses have been learning their
drills for centuries; that deft front and back
kick with all legs off the ground at once
was actually a trained defensive move for
mounted warfare. Ouch! A guided tour of
the stables (immaculate), carriage museum
(historic) and Baroque palace also in the
beautiful grounds of this Spanish institution
equally impressed.
Or I could write frst of the Alpujarras region
of Sierra Nevada National Park, home to
mainland Spain’s highest peak Mulhacén
(3478m), where white villages tumble down
the hillsides overlooking terraced olive and
almond groves, linked by ancient mule tracks
and acequias (aqueducts), built by the Moors
and still feeding water from the snowfelds to
the small farms, fve hundred years later.
Into the high sierra
In fact this is where I did begin my recent
Andalusian adventure, forsaking the
crowded streets of Holy Week Seville for
the hiking trails of the sierra. With my
Spanish friend we explored the villages and
their plazas, bodegas and artisan galleries,
foraged wild almonds, climbed high into
tussock basins, admired waterfalls and
spring fowers, watched grazing chamois,
followed many acequias, one silk trading
route, and chatted with farmers in the
cortijos (small farms).
The Alpujarras mountains have been
cultivated and grazed for centuries. Flat
stone platforms resembling some kind of
ancient, alien craft landing pad were in fact
eras, or wheat threshing circles. We would
walk for hours, 2000 metres high through
late season snow and come across a cortijo,
with stone wall barns and yards and goats
or cows wearing the ubiquitous bells that
tinkle throughout the valleys of all the
European alps. And I used to think it was
just a Switzerland thing. We yarned with the
farmers about the current ‘hard times’, or
at least my friend did, my Spanish-speaking
skills still far from basic conversation.
Those Moors were a hardy lot. After
eight centuries of Islamic rule throughout
Andalusia the Christians took control.
Granada, with its magnifcent Alhambra
Palace, was the last to fall.
largest Gothic cathedral and a monument
to the days when gold and silver-laden
ships from the Americas sailed up the
Quadalquivir River, and Seville was the
powerful commercial centre of Spain. Built
over the remains of a mosque, the cathedra
encompasses 45 chapels and 80 stained
glass windows. Two thousand kilos of
gold leaf adorn the main alter and massive
bronzed soldier statues hold aloft the tomb
of Christopher Columbus. (Though whether
he really is there, is a matter of intrigue.) As
a gesture to the previous Islamic dynasty the
original Almohad minaret tower remains,
albeit topped with a Rennaisance bell tower.
There’s more. Beside the cathedra
stands the World Heritage listed Alcazar,
or royal palace, famous for its mix of
original Mudejar architecture with Gothic,
Renaissance and Baroque touches added
by subsequent monarchs. The palace, its
grand halls, ornate rooms, towers, patios,
gardens and water features sprawl over
eight hectares in the city centre.
There’s not much I recall from high
The Moors regrouped in the nearby
school history but I do remember
Alpujarras and built their whitewashed
captivation with the tales of
villages, some to very high altitudes such as
Columbus and Magellan in their
Trevelez, at 1500 metres the highest town
tiny, apparently doomed ships,
in Spain.
sailing away to tip off the edge
Which brings me to one thing I loved about
of the world. Thus standing in the
walking here; we were never far from a
very same room where they once
village – and thus a bodega – inevitably
stood reporting to Queen Isabella,
serving traditional tapas. Like migas, for
Columbus after discovering America
example, fried bread mixed with chorizo,
and Magellan safely returned from
jamon (cured ham), pork, peppers and
his circumnavigation of the world, did
anything else the chef cares to add, which
bring just a wee shiver.
originated as a shepherd’s breakfast to use
Back to the present, the Alcazar adjoins
left over bread. After hours of hiking and
Barrio de Santa Cruz, heart of the medieva
washed down with a cold cerveza (beer), it
Roman walled city, centre of Arabic Seville
made a mighty f n e lunch.
and still the beating heart of this Andalusian
Old Seville
capital. I roamed narrow, twisted alleys,
balconies all but touching those opposite,
From climbing the sierra to climbing
through Santa Cruz Square and the Gardens
La Giralda; back in beautiful old Seville
of Murillo, the famous Spanish painter.
there was city culture to explore. Over
Orange blossom scent and classic guitar
centuries Seville has been a melting pot of
tones from strumming buskers mingled in
civilisations, architecture, art and traditions;
the air. Locals and tourists mingled in the
of Romans, Moors, Iberians and Christians,
tapas bars. There’s a huge sense of living
not forgetting gypsies and their famboyant
history here, even tapas originated centuries
famenco.
The Easter crowds had left yet I was still
number 1013 of the day (at only midday)
to climb La Giralda, the tower of Seville
in white shirts, ties and waistcoats despite
the casual, social ambience poured beers
and wines (house wines from kegs), carved
jamon, spooned olives from massive pottery
jars, served tapas and chalked orders on
the bar, all in fast, f u i d motion. No fancy
computerised till needed here, to pay our bill
the chalk fgures were simply totalled then
wiped clear for the next customer.
with bread or jamon to keep out the fies
The tapas were traditional, and incredibly
affordable; after moreish spinach and bean,
risotto, bacalao con tomate (salted cod
with tomato), Ibérican pork, croquetas, the
standard complimentary olives and crusty
breads, plus a couple of beers, the bill for two
came to thirteen euro. A mere $20 at current
(tapa meaning cover)
rates. You should go there now!
past, the concept of covering an aperitif
saw no fies but savoured the traditions.
Cathedral and symbol of Seville. If you want
In El Rinconcillo, for example, Seville’s
to visit just a few of the world’s famous
oldest bodega that’s served tapas since
cathedrals, put this one on the list. It took
1670 and which, one Saturday 342 years
one hundred years to build, is the world’s
later, was still trading briskly. Barmen clad
Kathy Ombler’s Spanish travel was partly
sponsored by Singapore Airlines, who fy
one of the most direct routes to Spain, through
Barcelona.
Prospect August 2012
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