Exploring España: Elche

Of all the places I was planning on seeing around Alicante, Elche with its UNESCO World Heritage Site of El Palmeral (the Palm Grove) was the one I was most excited about. And, unsurprisingly, it's the one I was most disappointed by.

I blame Apple. You see, I couldn't find the bus station in Alicante, and Apple's crappy map app is apparently years out-of-date and insisted on directing me to the long-closed old station. When I manually entered the address for the new one, it claimed not to be able to find it. Thanks a bunch, CRAPple! Through guesswork, I eventually located the bus station, where I bought a one-way ticket to Elche. Let the sightseeing commence.

Or not. My bus station woes were far from over. Once in Elche, the distinct lack of signage meant that I had no idea which direction would lead me into town and with temperatures hitting the 26°C (79°F) mark, I was reluctant to risk walking in the wrong direction! I paced up and down outside the station looking for clues. Or divine intervention. Twenty hot-and-bothered minutes later and I'd figured it out.

I soon came across Parque Municipal, home to some of the date palms. As much as I appreciated the shade, I was frustrated that the amazing views I'd seen on the internet of El Palmeral were still eluding me. Perhaps I was in the wrong place?

Finally, some palms

Shaded walkway

Lush, green palms

The dovecote

One of the more unusual trees

Having concluded that the palm grove must be elsewhere, I left the park and went for a wander around town. I didn't get far. It was just too damn hot to go exploring and everything, by which I mean the church, was closed.

 

Some kind of fortress thing

Dove having a bath in the fountain

Tired, hot and grumpy, I dived into the conveniently-located Lizarran and treated myself to a Coke and some tapas. Then, I dragged myself the two minutes back to the park and made the most of the shade.

Green and (mostly) shady

After a while, I decided to simply cut my losses and head to my next destination – Santa Pola. So I went back to the station and bought a one-way ticket. The bus turned right and headed down the street I'd been contemplating walking down. And there, a stone's throw from where I'd been, were the very palm groves I'd been looking for. FML.

Exploring Portugal: Porto #2

November 2014 and I had just started the DELTA. In anticipation of the success of my first LSA (you'd think I'd wait till it was a given, wouldn't you?!), I decided to treat myself to a weekend away. My only provisos were that it was cheap and stress-free, and thus I hit on the idea of Portugal.

I hadn't been back to Portugal since I finished my contract there in June 2011. As it was easy to get from Madrid to Porto I figured that then was as good a time as any to go back. Finding a flight for €41 rtn (£32.50/US$52.50) was the icing on the cake. Sure, it was with Europe's "favourite" airline (can't you hear the sarcasm?) and the return flight was at stupid o'clock in the morning, but cheap is cheap and so I booked it.

Four weeks later, and safe in the knowledge that I'd passed my LSA (yay!), I landed in Aeroporto do Porto (also known as Aeroporto Francisco Sá Carneiro). It was 09:40 and waaaaaay too early to check in at my hotel, so I got the metro into town. It was as easy as it had ever been, and just as cheap too!

I changed at Trindade for São Bento, from where it was a nice walk downhill towards the Ribeira. I wandered along the riverfront, drinking in the views and taking pictures, before grabbing a table at one of the cafés and treating myself to an Earl Grey tea and a tosta mista (ham and cheese toastie).


No place I'd rather be

Refreshed, I crossed the iconic Ponte Dom Luís I and focussed on getting some shots of the Ribeira. I could have stood there all day trying to capture what I was seeing...

The Ribeira in the sun



Boats on the Douro

The view from the bridge

I reluctantly pulled myself away from the view, crossed back over the bridge, walked uphill and headed for Avenida dos Aliados, which was where my hotel was. The Câmara Municipal (Town Hall) is still one of my favourite buildings. And it looked as gorgeous as ever against a backdrop of blue sky.

Still one of my favourite views

Having checked in and dumped my bag, which was growing increasingly heavy, I took one last look at the Town Hall, and then went to check out Torre dos Clérigos. But I got distracted by Casa Oriental, the most-photographed shop in Porto.


Trying to photograph the city's most-photographed shop

Close-up of the produce

Salt cod in bags

A stone's throw from Casa Oriental, sandwiched between Igreja dos Carmelitas and Igreja do Carmo is the narrowest house in Portugal. En-route, I caught sight of one of the trams, which was perfectly coordinated with the autumn leaves. I would later discover that this was one of the few trams not to have been defaced by modern-day advertising.

Old-fashioned tram and autumn colours

The narrowest house in Portugal between Igreja dos Carmelitas (left) and Igreja do Carmo

With the main sights checked off, I decided to head for Campanhã, the regional train station, and jump on a train to Braga, my old home. An hour later, I had arrived. I walked slowly through the streets, taking in the changes, smiling at the sameness. And then I swung a left and headed purposefully for my school...



Familiar platform at Porto Campanhã

I had almost reached the school when I realised I was walking alongside a former colleague. She turned and saw me at the exactly the same moment, screamed and hugged me, and then insisted on walking me into the school to 'show me off'. I spent a couple of hours catching up with my former colleagues. It was almost as though I'd never left. When they went to class, I headed home.

By the time I got back to Porto, darkness had fallen. Hungry now, I headed for the Ribeira, determined to have one riverside dinner. But I soon got distracted photographing the bridge and Vila Nova de Gaia, all lit up and casting light onto the river.

Mosteiro da Serra do Pilar all lit up



Lights reflected onto the Douro

Several hundred photos later, and I was ready for dinner. I chose one of the riverfront restaurants, ordered robalo grelhado (grilled rockbass, a former favourite) and ate overlooking the river.

Iconic view

The next day, the sun had been replaced by heavy rain. Despite this, the autumn colours shone through. And I realised that I haven't noticed autumn in Madrid. One day, the leaves are green, the next, they are brown. There's no change, and I miss that.


Autumn on Aliados



Cute shopfront

Having walked up to Rua Santa Catarina (one of the main shopping streets), I made my way back downhill, and then uphill to the cathedral. I mostly wanted to see the views, but once there, I couldn't resist going inside. And when I saw a sign for the cloisters, I handed over my €3 (£2.40/US$3.75) without hesitation. What can I say? I'm a sucker for cloisters!

View from the cathedral



The cathedral cloisters

Another view

Artistic arches

Keen to take a ride on one of the trams, just for old time's sake, I decided to go to Foz do Douro. By the time I reached the beach, the wind had risen and the skies had turned black. Nonetheless, I walked along the front taking in the stormy seas and the smelling the ocean air...

The lighthouse



Wild seas



Dark sands



Looking back towards the lighthouse

I walked along the seafront admiring the views. It was rainy and blustery, but I didn't want to go back, so I just kept on walking. Despite the greyness, the views were awesome. An hour or so later and I was done. I made my way back to the tram, stopping en-route to pet a friendly cat. Then it was back to the city for one last wander. Breaking with tradition, I walked down a street I'd never walked down before, and came across some scrappily but brightly-painted doors.


Doors to make you smile

Back in the centre and I decided to head out to the airport and find my hotel. It was too cold and wet to hang around, and I had an early flight the next morning. The weekend may have been brief, but I loved going back. Perhaps one day I'll go back permanently...

Exploring España: Sevilla #1

With a history dating back 2,200 years, Sevilla has long been one of the most important cities in Spain. It was originally inhabited by the Phoenicians, who called it Spal. The name was later Latinised as Hispalis by the Romans. Following the Muslim conquest in 712 AD, the city was renamed Ishbilyya, from which the word 'Sevilla' derives. In 1248, after centuries of Muslim Rule, Sevilla became part of the Christian Kingdom of Castile under Fernando II, King of Castile (r. 1217-1252) and later King of León (r. 1230-1252). Today it is the capital of both the province of the same name and the autonomous community of Andalucía.

Were the mix of Roman, Moorish and Christian history not enough, the city is home to no less than three UNESCO World Heritage Sites – La Catedral de Santa María de la Sede, El Real Alcázar de Sevilla, and El Archivo General de Indias. And of course, there are other tourist favourites such as La Plaza de España.

As with many places in Spain, I had long wanted to visit Sevilla, but every time I looked at flights or trains – six-hour bus journeys are NOT for me – they were ridiculously overpriced. So when I found a return flight for £49 (€60/US$83), I booked it without a moment's hesitation. Time to see what the hype was about...

View from my riverside walk

My flight landed ten minutes early. I got the bus into town, and too late realised that I should have gotten off before Plaza de Armas. Since it was such a beautiful day, I decided to re-trace the bus route and see the things that had caught my eye.

I walked along the banks of the River Guadalquivir, pausing to take a few photos of an interesting twelve-sided building. I later learned that this was La Torre de Oro (The Golden Tower), a military watchtower built around 1220 by Abu l-Ulà, the Almohad governor of Sevilla. Constructed of mortar, lime and pressed hay (!), the building gets its name from the golden shine it projected onto the river.


Torre del Oro

On reaching the Old Town, I made a beeline for the first of the big-hitters – La Catedral de Sevilla. In the years after the Reconquista of 1248, Sevilla grew to become a major trading centre. To demonstrate the city's new-found wealth, a cathedral was commissioned. In 1401, work commenced on the site of a former mosque. Over 100 years later in 1506, the cathedral was completed. But in 1511, the dome collapsed and work began again. In 1888, an earthquake caused the dome to collapse once more, and repairs went on into the 20th century.

With a length of 135 m (443 ft), a width of 100 m (330 ft) and a height of 42 m (138 ft), La Catedral de Sevilla is the largest cathedral in the world, and the third largest church building. However, its claim to fame lies not so much in its size but in the fact that it's the burial place of Cristoforo Colombo (c. 1451-1506), better known – to the English-speaking world at least – as Christopher Colombus.


The south façade (with queue to enter)



La Puerta del Príncipe

Keen to see inside this 600-year old church, I joined the long and winding queue and stumped up the €8 (£6.50/US$10.50) entrance fee. But once inside, the cathedral did not live up to expectations.

For such a large space, there seemed to be little room to move without finding yourself under the feet of a huge tour group, hell-bent on taking ALL the photos. Even those wanting simply to sit and reflect fell victim to rude tourists who thought nothing of barging through the rows of seats in order to get that perfect shot. After all, why let a few people sitting on said seats get in the way of your quest for a great photo?!


The deceptively spacious interior

Golden altarpiece



Looking down the aisle



Pretty much the only photo I got of Columbus' tomb

In a bid to escape the manner-less morons, I moved away from the big draws and tried to focus on other things – the high ceilings, the length of the aisles, the stained glass windows... But to no avail, because no matter where I went, I found myself standing beside some tw*t suffering from 'photo envy'. You know, the kind of person who sees you pointing your camera at something and panics that they might be missing out on a must-have photo. Cue getting unceremoniously elbowed out of your own freaking shot!

I was most annoyed to have shelled out a less-than-purse-friendly €8 (£6.50/US$10.50) for what amounted to little more than twenty minutes inside a veritable cattle market. But, beyond fed up of being pushed and shoved by no less than THREE bloody Japanese tour groups, all desperate to take ALL the photos of Colombus' tomb – as if they even knew who he was – I gave up and exited stage left leaving much of the cathedral unseen.


La Puerta de los Palos



La Giralda is all that remains of the former mosque

The former minaret from another angle

Back outside, safe in the knowledge that the world and its mother were in the cathedral, I joined the short-ish queue for the Alcázar. Then, on payment of €9.50 (£7.60/US$12.50) – just how freaking expensive are Sevilla's tourist attractions?! – I was free to explore.


A hint of what's to come



The archway leading to the complex

Patio de la Montería

Patio de las Doncellas (The Courtyard of the Maidens)

  

One of the things I love about Moorish constructions is the fine detailing. From the intricate stone carvings to the decorative ceilings to the colourful tiling, I was in an architectural heaven. And with the photo-hoggers still busy trampling each other in the cathedral, I was even able to get a few pictures.


Detail above one of the doors



Beautiful ceiling

Close-up of the tilework



Salón de Embajadores

The ceiling in El Salón de Embajadores



More tilework



Close-up of stone carvings

Having seen the buildings, I went to check out the gardens. But the steadily rising temperatures meant that I did little more than have a quick scoot round before heading off in search of food and shade.

Seating area under a canopy of vines

Green as far as the eye can see

It seems that even the Alcázar, Europe's oldest Royal Palace still in use today, could not change the quietly creeping feelings I had of Sevilla. This most beloved city is nothing but a lie, a big fat tourist trap thinly-disguised in centuries of history...

But since I was here, I figured I might as well continue hunting for whatever it is that people see in this city. And no trip to Sevilla would be complete with a visit to Plaza de España, a huge semi-circular plaza situated on the edge of El Parque de María Luisa.

Commissioned by Alfonso XIII, King of Spain (r. 1886-1931), the plaza was built in 1928 for the Ibero-American exhibition of the following year. Designed in the Art Deco and Neo-Mudéjar styles by the Spanish architect, Aníbal González Álvarez-Ossorio (1875-1929), it comprises a semi-circular building, a moat and four bridges, each one representing one of the ancient kingdoms of Spain. Running along the outer wall of the building is the tiled 'Alcove of Provinces', a big draw for tourists wanting to photograph themselves in their home/host province.

Having easily located the plaza, I stood in the centre surveying the scene. It should have blown me away, but instead I was left feeling a little 'meh'. Maybe I just don't get what makes other people tick, or maybe it was because of the seemingly endless stream of tourists, balancing on the edge of the fountain or posing for one stupid jumping shot after another – seriously, what is with that?! – but I just didn't love it.

The central building

Covered walkway

Close-up of the ceiling

  

Looking out towards one of the towers



View from upstairs

The next day, determined to give Plaza de España a second chance, I returned. Perhaps because it was quieter and there was a distinct lack of stupid jumping tourists (nope, still don't get it), the place grew on me a little more. But not so much that I fell in love with the city, which still felt like one big tourist trap.


One of the four bridges



Painted railings



Pretty in pink

One last look at the square

I have no doubt that I have just committed blogger suicide by speaking of this tourist favourite in less-than-glowing terms, but I honestly did not get why people rave about this city. Based on what I had thus far seen – a couple of overpriced and overcrowded attractions that generally weren't worthy of the hype – I wasn't all that impressed.

So there I was, in a city I had longed to see and I was feeling utterly cheated. Pretty much every other blogger positively gushes over Sevilla, so what was I missing? To find out, check out part two of my trip...