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See the World!!!

On the Road with Fast Eddie

Fast Eddie


An American Living Abroad

Late in 1999 Fast Eddie wasn't so fast. In fact he was stuck! So he sold EVERYTHING he owned, and decided it was time to explore the world... live life on his terms! With his backpack and passport he left, as Thoreau says, "to suck the marrow out of life!" He is not sure where he is going, but we are invited to tag along. We'll be somewhat behind him, following the trail of breadcrumbs he leaves so we don't lose the way...


Hola from Spain...

April 19, 2001

I recently spent eight days in Spain and eight more in Morocco, traveling on buses, trains, boats and by car with my son Matt. First I'll focus on our time in Spain and in my next writing cover Morocco.

We really enjoyed the entire time. First of all, the weather was unbelievable: sunny and warm every single day... absolutely heavenly! This was especially important as, outside of this trip, I've not had one day here in Germany since February where it hasn't rained at least a little. Plus it's been cold, as well. I'm wondering when spring will finally arrive in Deutschland!

After flying into Madrid, I met up with Matt and we first spent two days in the capital city. Madrid is a majestic city with stately buildings, wide boulevards, and massive fountains everywhere. In addition, there're wonderful parks that are full of locals enjoying life. A huge one we went to more than once is the Parque del Retiro. In fact, enjoying life is a theme that Spaniards play out well, just as the French and Italians do. There's a liveliness and joie de vivre in all these countries I find much less often in northern Europe. And the parks are amazing - huge and lush with lots of trees, small lakes and statues. The British may be the best at gardens, but I think the Spanish have the premier parks in Europe.

Madrid (and seemingly all of Spain) is the hardest-partying place I've ever been. It's said that when the citizens of Madrid go to New York and Paris, they're bored! I don't know about that, but I can tell you that this country never seems to sleep, and when I was there I didn't do so well myself - but not by choice. Our first night we were apparently a bit too close to the action, and between the all-night revelry and those little two-cycle motorbikes that sound a lot like weed whackers zooming around constantly, the noise level until the wee hours of the morning was deafening!

When the sun finally, mercifully came up, I stumbled outside searching desperately for coffee and found a scene that vaguely resembled the aftermath of Woodstock. Trash was everywhere! But not for long, as soon the street cleaners came with their head-to-toe yellow rubber suits on… looking vaguely like huge penises in incandescent condoms. With massive huge hoses and brooms the city was soon restored to cleanliness and order.

We decided that we'd take advantage of at least some of Madrid's immense cultural offerings, so we headed for two of their museums knowing that on Sundays they're open free-of-charge. (God, I love freebies!) First was the Museo del Prado with over 3000 paintings of many artists, including Raphael, Botticelli, Van Dyck, Rubens, Velasquez and Goya. Neither Matt nor I are quite so fond of the really old stuff (how's that for a sophisticated description of art?), so we then moved on to Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, which features 20th-century art.

It was here that Picasso and Dali particularly enthralled us, since there's a substantial collection of both artists. My favorite by far was the famous Guernica, which Picasso created after the Nazis, helped out their buddy General Franco by bombing the same-named city during Spain's Civil War in the 30's. This enormous painting displays distorted figures in agony, denouncing the senseless bloodshed, and it left me breathless and speechless.

We then hopped on a bus for Granada and enjoyed the ride through some beautiful high desert with verdant valleys full of fields of crops, and one long, narrow, twisting canyon. Then, as we cruised more deeply into Andalusia we found ourselves embraced by the magnificent Sierra Nevadas... still snow-capped and glimmering in the sunlight.

Madrid is a bit too big for my taste, but Granada is just the right size and I loved it there. In this southern city the influence of the Moors, who arrived in 711 and remained there until brutally expelled in 1492, is strongly felt - especially in the architecture. I absolutely delighted in the blend of Arab and Spanish influence you see everywhere, especially in the Albaicin, which is known as the Arab Quarter. It was pure joy to walk the narrow, winding streets, with the alternation of red brick and white stone, the high walls, cool patios and ornate decor. There're Middle Eastern eateries, public markets and shops and a maze of houses that, combined, is Spain's best-preserved example of Arab culture.

Action central within the Albaicin is Plaza Nueva, where Matt and I sat in the cafes, on the benches, or by the fountain and people-watched for hours, catching up on what we'd both been doing since we last saw each other over a year ago. We drank coffee and talked. We drank beer and talked. We looked at women in short skirts and tank tops and talked. We discussed life, solved a few of the world's problems, basked in the sun, hugged and laughed a lot... just like old times.

Coming to Granada must include visiting the Alhambra: the sprawling palace-fortress that sits atop a hill overlooking the city. An inscription there proclaims, "There is nothing crueler in life than to be blind in Granada." How appropriate! If you ever go to see it, you'll understand why that statement has so much truth in it. I've never seen a man-made structure more impressive than the Alhambra and Matt and I were both blown away.

The Islamic art fills room after room: walls of mosaics, carved ceilings, superb columns. It's a sensual, sensory barrage that goes on and on as you explore it. As we walked into yet another magnificent room, Matt murmured to me in astonishment, "It just doesn't end!" And water is running everywhere inside and outside - fountains, tiny canals and water-jets. Plus, there's the lush greenery of the Generalife, the palace gardens where the sultans strolled, as well a spectacular view over the valley and the silvery mountains beyond. It's magnificent!

Two summers ago, while traveling throughout Europe for five months, Matt spent nearly two of those months living in Granada. While there, he took up residence for some time in caves that lie on a hill facing the Alhambra. These caves have existed for untold centuries and are a haven for squatters, some of whom have lived there for years. Naturally I had to see them so we made the trek out of town and up the hill and I witnessed how creative people can be when necessity demands it... and when given the opportunity to do so. Give credit to the local government that it leaves them alone to do just that. If this were in the U.S., bulldozers would have flattened the place long ago, sending its residents to sleep on the streets or in the parks.

While in Granada I recommend you stop at the Alhambra Palace Hotel and sit on their patio for a drink. It's a five-star resort, but anyone can afford at least one drink there, and the view, especially at sunset, is breathtaking. Don't miss it!

At this point I'd like to discuss the Spanish cuisine, which I feel qualified to comment on after visiting several cities on this trip, as well as spending time in the north of Spain last summer. Frankly, I think it sucks. Especially if you're not heavily into beef and pork and enjoy fresh produce on your plate. Matt had a hell of a time trying to follow his vegetarian diet, especially when restaurant owners and waiters kept telling him, "Oh no, there's no meat in that dish." only to find out later that there certainly was. I found the food to be heavy, greasy, and monotonous. You don't suppose the fact that both Matt and I got food poisoning while there has influenced my feelings about the food any? After twenty-four hours we were back on our feet again, feeling almost as good as new and ready to head for Africa.

After our sojourn in Morocco, we returned across the Mediterranean again and arriving late, spent a night in the port city of Algeciras - which should tell you enough as to why it was quite a forgettable place to stay. Then on to Seville, despite the fact that we'd been repeatedly warned that finding a place to sleep there would be completely impossible. Why? It seems that Semana Santa was going on. That's Holy Week for Catholics, which is what Spain mostly is, and Seville becomes the destination for tens of thousands of visitors eager to partake in all the festivities.

The entire week is packed full of parades and processions that are supposed to have something to do with what happened to Jesus around 2000 years ago, but which I had a hard time associating with anything other than an excuse to party. Brightly adorned altars are carried through the streets and there're lots and lots of people dressed up in robes and pointed hats with hoods that other than being colored black, look identical to Klu Klux Klan outfits. If not terribly spiritual, it all seemed to be in good fun and another opportunity for us to people-watch.

As far as finding a place to sleep, it took us only about ten minutes to do just that. We splurged a little in Seville and spent about $40 for a double, which was about five times what we normally spent for a pension (called hostals in Spain - no not hostels). But it was worth it: we had an immaculately clean, full bathroom (which was a blessing after squat toilets in Morocco), quaint wicker furniture, a balcony - even a statue of Mother Mary hanging on the wall. What could be better?

Seville is a cross between Granada and Madrid, without the Moorish influence or grittiness of the first and some of the grandeur of the latter. It's a very pretty city and easy to get around in. At its center is a cathedral that took over a century to build and which has the largest Gothic edifice in the world. We ended up getting into there free too. It was late in the day and we were glad we went in, as it is truly impressive.

Nearby is the Alcazar, which was originally a 9th-century Moorish palace conveniently adopted by Ferdando and Isabel in the early 1500s when they were expelling and brutalizing Muslims and Jews, as well as raping and pillaging the New World. Needless to say, there was enough gold stolen from the Aztecs and Incas to expand the palace and its surrounding gardens into quite an amazing spectacle. It's well worth visiting.

I look forward to spending more time in Spain. Among other areas to see I'll surely get to Barcelona, and despite some misgivings and trepidation about it, I must experience a bullfight at some point. Fes... Marrakech... camping at the base of a 100 meter waterfall in the High Atlas MountainsMorocco looms ahead.

Hasta luego

-------------Eduardo Rapido

To read Fast Eddie's adventures from the beginning, go here

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