When in Spain
Writer.
My social media profile declares to the world that I am - among other things wishfully thought - a writer. In my mind, I am at least an occasional writer. I have self-published a book, although it is a dictionary (shameless plug here) that is not exactly Harry Potter. In other words, I will not retire to live off the proceeds any time soon.
And yet, I have not written a thing in months, years even.
Write.
Stephen King said that to be a writer, you need to read a lot and write a lot. For the longest time, I have done neither. So today, I write.
Spain
For almost the entire month of April 2023, our food-friendly family visited Spain. From crowded and bustling Madrid to medieval Santiago de Compostela and the windy northern coasts, including an evocative Game of Thrones location (sadly, no dragons) to sophisticated and stately San Sebastian to the southern, flower-potted Cordoba and Sevilla with stops along the way. Our mode of transportation was a new Skoda SUV, the rental car option being in our opinion the way to see a place since it provides maximum freedom and complete flexibility. Coffee? No problem, pull over. Bathroom break? No problem. Try to outrun the Bugatti? Good luck.
Spain is familiar yet exotic and three things made an impression on me, to the point of wanting to write about them:
the (insert overused, gushing cliché adjective here) food everywhere
the crush of human beings everywhere
the smallness of things
One could write about the food for weeks but suffice to say that along with the fabadas and cured ham, I became enamored of the 10cl glass of beer and the small plate of anchovy-infused green olives. On every street and street corner, a café magically appears where you are presented with the opportunity to enjoy a front-row seat to the activities around you. It seems very civilized and uncomplicated that you can simply order:
“Una cerveza por favor”
“Caña?”
“Si”
El Corte Inglés
There is no listing of a beer menu with exotic names like Slap in the Face Saltspring Island Lager and Nantucket Pecker Puckering Porter. You order a beer and you get your beer. The only option is the size. The olives come out either as a courtesy or a separate order. Then you sit back and watch everyone around you go about their day.
The amount of humanity you see around you really brings home the idea of how difficult it must have been to keep all these people locked up during the COVID pandemic. What the hell did all these people do for a year or two without going out? There are thousands upon thousands of humans milling about through the streets and in the stores and in the restaurants. And not just in the big cities; everywhere.
If you want a bird’s-eye-view look at this, have a drink in Ronaldo’s rooftop bar/restaurant in his Pestana Hotel on the Gran Via in Madrid. Look over the edge and just watch the tides of humans coming and going. It is amazing.
Then there is the smallness factor. From the slim Airbnb shower to the terrifying underground parking to the fragile toy garbage cans in the bathrooms, everything is diminutive for those of us more accustomed to the spaciousness of North American standards.
I remember taking a shower in one space-challenged Airbnb bathroom and actually turning off the water with my beer-and-olive—extended belly! It was a challenge to move my soapiness into a position where I could turn the water back on and at the right temperature without either scalding or freezing myself. It was also a warning shot across my ample bow to stop eating so much.
In another tiny Airbnb bathroom there was the obligatory miniature garbage can that inevitably needs to be one of those where you step on the tab to make the lid pop up, except that this one is no more than 30 cm. high and the little tab you step on is the size of your big toe. It is fun trying to align your foot with said tab; this then results in the entire mini-garbage can flipping over which kind of defeats the purpose since now you have to bend over and pick up all the stuff that has spilled out over the floor, being careful not to knock your head on the sink as you come up.
Accessing toilet paper from a (presumably) seated position in these bathroom scenarios also requires some serious yoga-like stretching which is either funny or painful depending on your flexibility. As a registered Teuton and stiff as a board, my experience was the latter.
Finally, there is the underground parking. In a land where space is limited and since street parking has been banned in most city centers, many hotels and Airbnb’s offer underground parking. The creative placement of ramps and posts and beams makes the coveted underground spot an almost overwhelmingly challenging undertaking, especially if you are driving an SUV. I recommend, if you are considering renting a vehicle and parking it, that you choose a modest, tiny model which will help enormously in keeping your parking anxiety at a manageable level.
To paraphrase U.S. president Joe Biden, “bottom line” or “at the end of the day” Spain is a must-visit for anyone who wants a good smack of great food, amazing scenery, and some serious history with an emphasis on catholicism. And small spaces.