NYC

10 days of España

Day 1. No sleep. In Barca at last. Big lunch. Long walk. La Sagrada Familia. Waffles. A bit of sleep. Tapas x 5. 4-0. Spain on fire. Hard rain and the way home.


Day 2. Late start and a big breakfast. Mosquito attack. Park Güell. Tapas. Flamenco together with a jealous woman – and she did mean it serious. Gourmet food. Discussion about Georgian food and wine. A few bottles later. Discussions about passion, differences in men and women. And finally, agreement reached in all topics (that's what true friends are for…to understand or maybe wine had its toll).

Day 3. On the way to pick up Lurja (car). Hola Marina(gps). Short stop at house of Miro. Broken car. Police station. Zaragoza. Dinner near the market place. Beautiful market and the cathedral, narrow streets, unbearable heat of the night.

Day 4. Windy roads. Sos del Rey Catolico. Ancient city center. Lunch on a veranda. Arrival at Pamplona. Sleepy city.

Day 5. Pamplona in preparation for San Fermin. Busy and welcoming. Old market … locals ’try our jamon, cheese...’. Enchanting narrow streets with thousand stories to tell. Road to San Sebastian. City packed with Americans and Australians. Tapas at the square in the old city.

Day 6. San Sebastian, Monaco of the North. Everyone has a place in this city the reach, young families and even the students. Very lively yet with a touch of aristocracy. The see food is worth a try. Night drive (of the brave) to Pamplona. San Fermin in preparation for the 8am spectacle - the run of the bulls(and the 'brave' people). The city is one big party place. No place to squeeze into. Social peeing, no gender discrimination! There is just no place to deposit so much beer. Poor Lurja became a causality of the bio wars. A ‘comfortable’ sleep under the Lurjas roof. 8 o’clock- the run of the cows. A bit disappointed to have driven 200km and witness no blood shed. Back to San Sebastian.

Day 7. The road to la Rioja. Arrive at your destination - Haro the capital of Rioja! Spain refuses to work on weekends, not to mention during siesta time. If you get hungry during siesta taught luck, no food or water between 3 - 7:30pm. Big disappointment, wineries closed due to siesta or wedding preparation. Next stop - Laguardia, medieval city of 300 plus caves (now wine cellars), built on a hill, in the middle of vineyards as everything else in Rioja.

Day8. Breakfast in Laguardia. And a long drive back to Barca.

Day9. Shopping frenzy. Jamon with some melon and with couple of survivors. Packing.

Day10. Early morning alarm. It is time to part … already!! Sneaking out without a sound (trying at least). See you all next time!!

My Thousand and One Nights in Andalucia

   Part 1 - Cadiz 

                         

At the crossing of Atlantic ocean and Mediterranean sea, southernmost part of Spain, lies beautiful, eternal, dreamy Cadiz, reportedly the oldest continuous settlement in Europe.

I arrived on Monday evening on a train from Jerez , full of expectations for my Andalucian adventure…

Cadiz turned out to be everything I expected it to be and more.

Squares, white and yellow streets….

Shore that reminded me of malecon in Havana…

Flower market with the curious street vendors…

Beautiful sandy beach surrounded by two castles..

Empty boats that the low tide leaves on the shore and the high tide rocks slowly…

Breathtaking view from the old tower..

Walking, walking, walking, up and down the narrow streets

cold cerveza and a tapas plate in a corner bar on a hot afternoon

The family where I lived and the beautiful 3 year old granddaughter with huge blue eyes and golden hair, who got angry with me every time I could not undertand her wibliwobli spanish..

I spent my mornings wondering in the old streets of Cadiz..

My afternoons on the beach, enjoying the lazy quietness of the day, lying on the golden sand and watching the tides slowly come up to my feet.

My evenings walking at the seaside, along the atlantic coast, empty gardens in the twighlight and the smell of azalias…

and danced away my nights at half dimmed salsa club on the mediterranian coast..

Part 2 - Sevilla

Upon arrival Sevilla felt like a burning hellhole. Too warm to breath at first, easier once you find a spot where you can sit under the water spray and don’t move..

Checked into a small hostel in the jewish quarter.

Loved the area, narrow , atmospheric streets with almost a surrealistic feel.

Came across the most famous flamenco place in town that was “fully booked” for tourists in front of me, but I managed to get a ticket after speaking my version of spanish with a cute andaluz at the entrance.

Unforgettable flamenco !

Half dimmed courtyard, where the dramatic cry of the flamenco singer broke the silence of the sticky, heavy air.

Ole!

Dinner on the street leading to the cathedral, full of tapas bars and bustling with the locals: students, artists and wonna-bes, chatting away the evening over a glass of wine..

Then the salsa bar, mojitos and and the crazy italian who spoke a mixture of spanish-italian with brazilian accent and a sprinkle of english as he was swining me to the night tunes.

Took the wrong turn on the way home and got lost, finally finding my way to the cathedral.

a couple kissing next to the cathedral, the rest of the people on the square quite drunk, or perhaps lost like me..

a stray cat that escorted me home..

Part 3 - Granada

Three and a half hour train ride later I arrive in Granada. When I first decided to move to Spain and was contemplating where to go, my basque friend said: “you have to go to Granada, that is your type of city”.  and he was so right!  well, where do I start? …

Walking up the cobblestoned streets of Albaicin, the arabic quarter of Granada, a kaleidoscope of white buildings, narrow streets, marrocan shops, carpets and rugs outside, teterias everywhere, offering tea, baklava and waterpipes with oriental flavors.. Lanterns hanging outside..

“come inside, taste some tea! “ - Shopkeepers stealing my smiles.

“green apple with melon please”…

it’s such an intoxicating feeling:

sitting in a teteria,

listening to arabic tunes,

taking in the flavor of the waterpipe,

slowly sinking into timelessness...

*

School, where the four of us were the only students (obviously, nobody else was crazy enough to go to granada to learn Spanish at the time of the year when you feel like a fish on a frying pan every time you step outside).   

Lunch together in the café across the street every day.

“When does the break finish? “

” It finishes when you come back. “

- in that case: “Un medio tostada con atun y café con leche por favour.”

                     

I think, still, what will haunt me most, is the site of  alhambra at night, seen from the side of albaicin. I walked up the narrow, dark and deserted streets of albaicin for half an hour. most people have already finished dinner, it’s late even by spanish standards.. from some homes I can hear the sound of someone washing dinner dishes..from others sound of a lonely guitar.. and then, after one more turn, I come up to the vista point and to my right, on the hilltop on the opposite side across the river, is alhambra! I remember my spanish teacher’s tales about the ghosts of alhambra and at this moment I have no doubt that it’s all true.

*

and of course, I can not leave without visiting sacromonte, el barrio gitano de Granada.

I follow one of the world’s most beautiful streets leading to gypsy caves, a street that looks more like a threater setting, with Alhambra topping the hilltop on the right side, plane trees and a promenade next to the river, tapas and wine bars on the other side.  there is always enough time to have a glass of wine at the bar with the locals.

Seeing a flamenco show in a gypsy cave was something out of ordinary. So much flair, passion and drama on one dance floor. 

*

Last day I search for a shelter from the scorching sun of Granada and indulge in the absolute delight of arabic baths.. smells, sounds, the touch of water keep me grounded into my very own andalucian dream.

Part 4 – to be continued…

უსათაუროდ

**

mTa momenatra, saRamos susxi, Txel kabaze mocmuli Salis Jaketi, fexebze amocmuli windebi. martoxela gzaze vinmesTan erTad gaseirneba, varskvlavebis yureba, balaxis suni, WriWinebi, Zveli Robidan aqa-iq amovardnili ficrebi. saxlSi cxeli rZe da wina dRiT gamomcvari orcxobila.

aqve sadRac axlomaxlos rkinigzis sadguria, liandagebi soflis gareT, patara, Zveli sadguri vardisferi kolonadebiT, liandagebs Soris dayrili mazuTiani xreSiT da am mazuTSi amosuli gvirilebiT.

sadRac axlos patara mdinarea. xandaxan am mdinareSi soflis qalebi qvabebs recxaven. mdinaris piras saxli dgas, Zveli xis saxlia, naxevrad farRalala, SigniT xis skivrebiT da fardagebiT, garedan wvimisgan ganacrisferebuli, arafriT gamorCeuli.

WriWinebis xmas drodadro mxolod liandagebis xma erTveba. gareT sarecxi kidia, ferad-feradi, Ramis Crdilisagan odnav gaxunebuli. saxlSi yviTeli Suqi anTia da me melodebian.

**

ratom melodebi ase didxans da ase mondomebiT, ar geSinia, rom ukan veRarasodes movagno? ase Cumi monatrebiT rom melodebi ratom ar damiZaxeb, gzas ratom ar momaswavli? amdeni mTa da amdeni gza martom rogor unda gamoviaro?

wvimiani saRamoa, ufro swored aRar wvims, magram foTlebidan CamowveTebuli wvimis xma sisvelis SegrZnebas miqmnis.

fiqrebi Cndebian, krTebian, erTmaneTs misdeven da mere qrebian. me martoxela, faragabneuli mwyemsi var.

**

arafers meubnebi, mec Cumad var, ar gsayvedurob amden xans rom malodine, arc Sen mkadreb sayvedurs. sakvamuridan sadRac kvamli amodis, nela, zantad, nisliviT. nisls ereva da ifanteba.

marto WriWinebis xma da Cemi da Seni guliscema ismis. Sen aseTi mSobliuri da aseTi Soreuli. axla vici, rom imas rac aqamde moxda an ar moxda ukve azri aRar aqvs.

arc imas aqvs mniSvneloba, rom amdeni xnis Zebnis Semdeg Zlivs gipove da Sen kidev Turme yovelTvis icodi, rom me sul Sens axlos viyavi da jiutad ar meubnebodi, elodebodi me sanam mivxvdebodi.

mTavaria rom gipove, Seni xeli mxars miTbobs, uxmod mivabijebT martoxela gzaze, susxia, nislia, nawvimari foTlebi krTebian, WriWinebi WriWineben, Soridan matareblis xma ismis – viRacas sadRac mieCqareba dilisTvis. me ki Sen gipove da soflis orRobeSi SenTan erTad saxlSi mivdivar. 

სიბერე (elderliness)