On The Town . . .

The Costa Blanca area of Spain is renowned for its beaches and warm weather on Mediterranean Sea, so it has become a popular tourist destination for Europeans from the Northern climes. When we looked for an area of Spain to come for a month, we were trying to find a mix of the “tourist” destinations where the reasonable accommodations are available to us “Foolish Foreigners” willing to rent someone else's “Summer” house when they do not want to use it, and hopefully find some interesting Historical Spain.

We actually did pretty well. El Campello is not really very historically significant, but this apartment is in an older part of town and is surrounded by typical narrow streets and quite a few older style Spanish houses and buildings. It has a feel of more of a seaside town than a tourist resort. If you walk down the beach you quickly get into a much more modern area built up with large high-rises and modern style tourist homes & condos. Walking the other way, up into the town itself, you find some of the original old houses and buildings, surrounding the old town church and the original town square. The nice thing about El Campello is that the tram system allows you to visit other towns and communities in the area very easily. We rented a car to get to Grenada and Valencia, but were able to use the tram to visit most places.

All of the towns and cities in the area have modern shopping areas and huge apartment complexes, and the communities on the coast all suffer from the “Tourist” areas, but a bit of walking will usually allow you to find the old towns within the cities and villages in the area.

The first thing to look for in any town is the biggest and oldest looking church. The churches were usually the central part of a town and the community grew around the church. In Grenada, our hotel was on the same square as the big cathedral and this allowed us to easily explore the historical part of the city. We could easily walk through old alleys and side streets that obviously were never designed for modern traffic. They were used by cars, but when you heard a vehicle on the street, you had to walk single file, and watch out that the car's mirrors did not clip you. One evening in Grenada we tried to find a “recommended” tavern, and started climbing up the streets towards the Alhambra. Many of these were footpaths with steep steps and cobble-stone paving twisting up the hills. The deep-set doors and windows all showed how old this area of the town was, and we finally came out onto another square with another old church and three or four tavernas, but could not find the one we wanted.

Alicante has a similar area when you walk up to the old fort instead of taking the road up the back side. You almost feel that you are walking through someone's yard or using their private drive. The old houses are built right into the hill, and the tiny walkways up the hill are only wide enough for foot traffic or a scooter. Obviously a sign of urban planning prior to the invention of the car. As you made your way up, it was so steep, you would climb in front of a house, and then find yourself looking over the same house from behind and over it.

We took the tram to Altea, a town up the coast from El Campello, and discovered the same design there. Altea has a beautiful seacoast and the promenade along the water is wonderful, with beautiful views and places to sit and relax or bars and restaurants to take a break, but this area is definitely a tourist area, and we heard almost more English than Spanish. A quick look around however when you exit the tram and you can see the beautiful blue dome of the church up on the hill. I'm not sure why churches always seem to build on the “high-ground”; perhaps it is to give you a head start towards heaven, or building a bit further from hell. We had heard about the beautiful old town of Altea and the walk up the hill was certainly worth the effort. Again, you climb through narrow stone paved streets switch-backing up the steep hill. Often the streets became footpaths with steps to help you climb, another indicator of the pre-car age of them. On the way up there are lovely little shops selling beautiful local jewellery and artwork, and interspersed with interesting tavernas and restaurants. When you reach the top, it is again the church on the top of the hill, with the original town square surrounding it. Most of the buildings around are now shops and tavernas catering to the thirsty traveller who just climbed all those steps, but you can imagine the original necessary town businesses here in the past, the bakery, the butcher, the blacksmith or the pharmacy.

We have been able to find this old part of the original “Town” in most of the communities we have visited during our travels. It is always worth the climb.

Saving Time . .

Saving some time in Altea . . .

Ok, I already wrote about “Living on Spanish Time”, but I realized yesterday exactly how well I had adjusted to the relaxed pace of life here is El Campello.

The owner of the apartment kindly offered to let us use their Post Box to get a package that was left in Grenada by accident, and since she was in El Campello yesterday, she offered to deliver the package to us. We had plans to go by tram to visit Altea, another pleasant little seaside town along the coast, so we said we would wait for her to come and then leave. So long as we arrived in Altea before they took “Siesta” we would be Ok. We had been warned by a Scottish couple we met that everything closed in Altea at 2:00. They highly recommended visiting the town, but were very disappointed with the number of shops that were closed when they got there. No problem, our schedule was flexible and we could go any time. We went out for a walk before breakfast so we would be here when she arrived with the package. However she was very early and rang the bell just as we were starting breakfast. We were happy to get the package and discussed plans to visit their village on Thursday with them.

We had the times all planned out to get to the train station in time to catch one train that would get us to the first stop with only a short wait for the second train, but when we arrived at the station, purchased tickets and sat on the platform to wait, we discovered that the time on the station clock was 10:50 not 9:50.

What was going on . . . . . .?

Did the time change here . . . . . . .?

When . . . . .?

How long had we been operating on the wrong time . . . . . .?

I changed my watch, and we caught the train, and made all the connections, arriving in Altea with no problem. As we usually do, we stopped in the local Tourist information booth to get a map of the town and to ask for advice of what to see. I noticed a local English newspaper that was free, so I picked it up. There on the front page was a notice - “Don't forget to set your clocks ahead on Sunday Morning!”

It was Tuesday; we had gone two days without noticing that the time had changed. Now it did answer the question of why the waiter seemed to be hurrying us out of the restaurant on Sunday evening. We had gone for dinner at 9:00 not 8:00 and he was ready to close up by 11:00. That also sheds some light on why the workers downstairs were working so late on Sunday night. Now on Monday, when we took the tram to Alicante, we never even noticed it. I didn't wear my watch, and we weren't even thinking of the time. We got up, ate, and took the tram to Alicante when we were ready, returning on the same flexible schedule. Nothing gave us any indication that we were operating one whole hour out of sync with the rest of the world.

I do not know if it is a good or bad thing when you are so much into Vacation/Retired time that you do not notice a time change for two days, but we seem to have survived it. I do not know how I am going to deal with the hectic schedule when we get home . . . . . . . .

On Spanish Time

On one of my first days here in El Campello I found a nice little bakery with fresh bread and lovely pastries. We were going for a walk and decided to stop in on the way back to pick something up. Unfortunately we never found it on the way back . . . .  or the next day . . . . or the next day The little bakery just disappeared.. I thought I knew approximately  where it was, but it was not there.

I then found another bakery down on the waterfront, and this time I noted where it was – and I bought my bread even though I had to carry it on my walk. On my way back I was able to find the bakery, but it was now shuttered and closed in the middle of the day?

I  found one of the many grocery stores in the town (I don't know how a quaint little town like this manages to support five grocery stores, and saw some sheep cheese behind the butcher counter. I waited patiently leaning up against the counter thinking someone would come and wait on me. No such luck, staff walked by ignoring me until I finally flagged someone down who wagged her finger at me pointing out the sign with hours on it. It seemed that the grocery store was open, but the butcher was closed for three hours  and would open up again at 5:00.

It seems that many shops and services here run on a very different schedule than I was used to. They open at about 9:00 or 10:00, and close in the middle of the afternoon for a “siesta”. They then open again late in the afternoon, and stay open into the evening. Even paces that stay open, sort of go into ”siesta mode” during the afternoon. One afternoon I was across the street at the bar checking my e-mail and working on this blog, when suddenly all the staff stopped working, pushed tables together and had lunch in the middle of the bar. All the staff were involved in this meal, and a couple sitting at the bar were as confused as I was. They finished their drinks and looked around for a waiter to reorder. Finally after it became obvious they wanted something, the waiter got up from his lunch, went over, waited on them, and went back to his lunch

There is construction going on below the apartment, and although it it not terribly noisy, we know they are there, and have become accustomed to their hours. They start work at about 10:00, work until about 3:00, stop for a siesta, and then start again, sometimes working into the evening.

It is difficult to adjust to the Spanish time routine, but since I am trying to actually “Live” here, I have taken to working this three hour “siesta” break into my busy day. It is hard, but it is important to adapt to the local customs – life is hard . . . . . Oh, I did finally find that little bakery; it was right where I thought it was, the shutters were just closed up tightly . I now try to get there in the morning.

Sorry that this blog entry is a bit shorter than normal . . . . . . it's time for siesta . . .