Tickets The Finale

Let me first start off by saying anyone can enjoy a dining experience at Tickets. It's not pretentious, formal or expensive.  Its expensive if you order high end wine, champagne and everything offered on the menu.
There are only a few things keeping you from having this amazing experience. Geography, a 90 day waiting list and complete loss of your food inhibitions.  Obviously you need to be in Barcelona. You must stalk the Tickets website daily to get a reservation. My strategy was all around time zone. I figured since Spain is 6 hours ahead of us, I would start pecking around the reservation page around 6:30 pm knowing their book had turned for the day and prayed I got lucky. Reservation secured August 9th for a November 9th date and I thought I was going to cry.  And finally, you must let the expert servers show you the way around the menu, open your mouth, just go with it and don't ask what it is till you're done. 
Tickets is the spinoff brainchild of one of the best restaurants in the world, El Bulli in Roses Spain, just north of Barcelona. I won't bore you with the details but they were infamous for being gastronomy pioneers taking crazy risks and probably the birth parent of 'foam'.  Affectionately known as 'air' nowadays. Google and/or watch the Anthony Bourdain trip to Spain for more details.
El Bulli was on my 'to do' list. I researched hotels, how the hell to find this joint in the middle of nowhere sheep farmville and most importantly, how and when to break the news to Jud around my ultimate plan to dine at this culinary institution.  Cause, I was going. 
One day, I was reading a food article and was struck by complete horror.  El Bulli is closing in July 2011.  What?? This must be a nasty rumor by some disgruntled chef.  Don't they know I'm coming!!  This can not possibly be - I'm so close!  Turns out the rumors were true. The restaurant was closing and turning itself into a cooking school for up and coming chefs to learn the art. Then go out into the world and recreate.  BUT alas, the birth of Tickets in Barcelona, a more casual version of El Bulli - right in my backyard of where we will be staying and many of the chef staff was coming along. I was on a mission and obsessed with getting a reservation. And even if I didn't, I planned to show up and beg for a table.

Tickets is located in a neighborhood not too far from the waterfront. Opening a whole new opportunity for more exploring but there was no time for that since our reservation was on our last night - maybe next time.
The cabbie drops us off right out front of a black awning lined with bright stage bulbs lights, 'Tickets' blaring in red lights and a young man with a pompadour hair doo standing on the red carpet behind the red velvet ropes guarding the door with a check-in list. You're not on the list - you're not getting in. I healed my breath as I blurted out Spangler 2. And had the printed reservation confirmation as back up just in case. We were hustled in and scored the best seats in the house from my perspective.  The bar lined seats right in front of the open chefs kitchen where we can see it all!  The inside is set up much like an old fashioned movie theater. Servers are dressed in all black with gold pinstripes across the front of their jackets - similar to theater ushers.  Hence - Tickets.  And then, the show began....

We are siting directly in front of the open kitchen where there is so much going on, it took me a while to figure out the whole complex routine. It was like a beautiful dance being executed with precision and intense passion over and over again, never missing a single beat. And contrary to the general spanish restaurant routine, these people are working their asses off - there is constant hustle and motion.

Directly in front of me is the 'oyster' girl. She shucks, opens, intensely eyeballing the creature, smells every oyster with her nose almost touching the meat, sometimes smelling twice, removes the meat, dips the shell in some kind of liquid, dips the meat in another liquid, puts the meat back in the shell and plates - repeat. Eventually, she is rotated out to do other fish things cause her 'nose' will stop working. Fascinating, flawless execution and tossing anything that did not pass inspection. 
Before anything is served, it is passed to a chef who is standing guard to inspect every dish.  And he's often not happy, sending things back the kitchen and giving lectures. The routine goes like this:
Dish is presented to Chef for inspection, he stares at it, picks up a squirt bottle filled with clear liquid, wipes the plate, more staring, maybe even rearrange whats on the dish by just a fraction (because he can), more cleaning, finish with a sauce, more staring and if it passes - the dish is handed to the server for presentation. Not just any server or a runner but THE server for the table for that particular dish. Which means, every server must pay close attention to what is coming out of the kitchen at all times. If the server is not there when Chef decides the dish is ready, he delivers it to the table himself.  Not ignoring the fact the server was not there to pick up the dish, he had to leave his post and provides an imminent lecture.  Repeat.  If the dish does not pass inspection, Chef finds the kitchen chef who put out the dish and explains what the issue is. And believe me, this guy commands perfection and precision - he frowns a lot, hands flying up in the air, Spanish babble, shaking his head and heavy sighs.  Most of us would never notice or even know what the defect is.  But he does, and if it's not right to his standards - it goes back with specific instructions. We actually witnessed a trashing of a dish two....including breadsticks.  And I have to confess, there was something so incredibly sexy about the whole routine and Inspector 12 was totally smoking hot to boot - it was difficult not to stare. 

The menu is broken down into 9 categories. Snacks, El Picoteo, Iberians (the hams) The Oysters, Xuxis (a bite to eat individually), Tapas from the sea, Tapas from the land, Desserts and Sweets.  Beer, wine, cava, champagne - no cocktails.  And you must order and eat in this sequence - no backs and moving to and from categories. Why?  The snacks are to stimulate the palate then move into the heaver more complex dishes.  The ones you swallow and ask questions later.  There are lots of intimidating foreign utensils, spoons, funky forks, something resembling giant tweezers, plates, napkins and wine glasses of course.  Clearly, there is something going on I don't know about, but am about to find out.
We completely relied on our server who guided us through the entire experience in broken English.  Lots of hand gestures and showing us which utensil to use in the displayed metal multitude and 'how' to consume each dish - almost like playing charades.
We order some snacks - the Tickets olives, peachs impregnated with sangria and mini airbags stuffed with manchego cheese.  The olives are not regular olives or anything you are prepared for.  'One bite' says our server as she pretends to hold the spoon and throws her head back.  Its a thin skin with liquid olive inside which bursts open in your mouth.  WOW!


Liquid Olives



Tuna Belly


El Picoteo - paper thin slices of tuna belly painted with Iberian cured ham fat with bread sticks.  For this dish we use the tweezer thingie.  Oysters raw with liquid pearls.  Our server cups her hand, throws her head back and says 'please' - motioning to slide the oyster directly from the shell into your mouth.  Tapas from the sea - razor clams with ginger sauce cayenne pepper and lemon air, Spanish grilled lobster.  Tapas from the land - confit potatoes in olive oil with pork rib sauce and Iberian boiled ham, cooked mushrooms. Desserts - almond cake with red peach sorbet. Sweets - Catalan cream roll. We are then presented with this purple after dinner stuff which is suppose to be good for digestion. Our server rubs her belly and motions to take the shot.
Whew - what a show!  It's now midnight and we are debating to whether to just stay up since we have a 4 am wake up call.
Absolutely a perfect ending to a perfect vacation! 
 

Oysters with Pearl



Peaches with Sangria



Manchego Cheese Puffs

 

Razor Clams

 

Potatoes with Iberian ham

  

 

Spanish Lobster



Mushrooms



Almond cake w/red peach ice cream



Catalan Cream



There's No Place Like Home.

Our last night in Spain was incredibly memorable. After siesta we began the harrowing task of packing. Tearing everything out of the suitcase and trying to figure out how to get it all back in. Laying out the next days comfy travel clothes since we have at least 14 hours of travel time in total.  Checking drawers and closets twice, do we have all the cords for the electronics and don't forget the euro socket hoogie.  That the moment reality, nerves and depression sets in.  The anxiety and excitement of getting ready for a trip turns into angst and sadness.
We shower up for our finale dinner at Tickets, get our stuff in order and Jud hails a taxi for the last time in Barcelona.
Our experience at Tickets was amazing and will write a separate piece on our evening. It truly deserves it's own separate attention...
4 am wake up call comes early after only 3 hours of sleep. Its tempting to turn the alarm off and snuggle back into the darkness and the 6 feather pillows, down comforter and those Egyption zillion count cotton sheets. I'm now on a mission to recreate this heaven cave at home. Thank goodness for MAC caffeinated eye cream.  A little dab will do ya and wahlah - eyes look somewhat normal.
Taxi arrives promptly at 5 am. Chatty fellow....and I'm seriously in no mood.  He proceeds to go on and on about the high unemployment rate, cost of living, their government is crap blah blah blah.   Jud does his best to be polite and I pretend to be sleeping.
Leg #1. Iberia from Barcelona to Madrid. Commuter flight is packed to the gills with business people, laptops, travel bags, cell phones, news papers, pushing, shoving and being crammed into a tin can like sardines.  An instant jolt of reality. I remember this life!  Juds knees are up to his nose and he's cranky about it. But there's not a whole lot you can do about it at this juncture except suck it up - it's a 1 hour flight so it's not too terribly bad.
We land in Madrid with plenty of time to spare for out next flight to Philly. Grab the bags off the belt, find the bus to change terminals and do the hokie pokie flight check in security exam thing again.
I remember the last time I flew home from Spain the USAir security person really grilled me about where I'd been, why was I in the country, why did I go to Morocco, did I meet anyone (instinctively I want to say of course I did dummy, but that would be a bad idea), do I have any firearms etc.  This time our security checker inner was Juan. A little man with a heavy accent and big bulging fish eyes.  He introduces himself by saying: Hello. My name is Juan and I work for US Airways security.  Have your bags been in your (he comes to a complete stop) I really had a hard time understanding him.  And he really got sideways when he discovered the names on my passport don't match my ticket hence his sudden halt in speaking.   My passport says Eva Warwick Kehr Spangler. My ticket says Eva Warwick Alexander Kehr Spangler.  Houston, evidently we have a problem. Juan begins to scurry off but suddenly like hitting the replay button he stops in his tracks and starts his schpeal all over agin. Hello. My name is Juan and I work for USAirways security.... I wanted to laugh but figured that would also not be a good idea. After multiple questions around my ZaZa Gabor names, they finally check us in and took our bags.
The flight home was going to be about 8 hours although since we cashed in our FF miles, we we were up front in Envoy class both ways and that was pretty sweet!  Multiple glasses of champagne before take off, hot towels, slippers, Bose noise elimination head phones, what would you like to drink after takeoff Mrs Spangler, can I get you something more to drink, how about another pillow and blanket. We were in these personal pod things - almost cocoon like with your own TV, electronic sockets, tray table and a seat that completely reclines flat. Flying horizontal in the dark is so cool. I made sure Mr S was completely aware of my spoiling happiness and my future need to make transcontinental flights up front from now on... : ).
Big greeting from Buddy, Lola and the crew. Buddy could not believe his little eyes at first and I thought he was going to have a heart attack!  Needless to say neither dog left our sides all night.
Woke up at 3 am while my body and brain believes I've actually slept in and it's 9 am. I didn't know weather or not to go back to sleep or get up for eggs and sangria.  
For almost 3 weeks we've consumed food made and created by someone - a person - a face.  Not processed or prepackaged. No preservatives, almost nothing green, little butter, mostly olive oil and a lot of red wine. I had a piece of roast beef lunchmeat and white loaf bread today and thought, ewwww....this stuff is gross!  We've drank some amazing wine, met some interesting people and finally had a real honeymoon after 10 years of marriage. I honestly can't imagine being newly married, living with someone for the very first time and getting thrown into small spaces, being together 24/7 with no alone time and all of the bathroom issues one encounters - especially when the diet dramatically changes and the windows don't open in the room.... It's clear to me why the Europeans have bidets. Frankly, there should be 2 toilets and 2 bidets in the bathrooms cause there were occasions where 1 potty at that particular moment was not enough!
Time to start planning our next European adventure. Maybe Greece!  


Sent from my iPad

Trains Planes and Automobiles.

After a 6 hour train ride from San Sebastian, we hit the ground running in Barcelona. We wandered around a while after the cabbie dropped us off in yet another car-less plaza.  But we finally found the street we were looking for in the maze of high walled stone buildings.  Dropped our stuff off at the Hotel Neri and headed to the waterfront, over to the La Ramblas and then to the tapas bars in the gothic neighborhood.
The waterfront is remarkable.  Filled with sailboats and huge yachts from around the world. The kind you see on the travel channel and can't fathom their reality.  Let me tell you - they are real and they are spectacular!  There was a boat show going on as well. 70, 80 150+ foot yachts for sale. I have mine all picked out for when I win the lotto!  
We also started scooping out the various seafood restaurants and their menus. They are lined up right along side the marina - outdoor dining in November along the water with fresh seafood from the Mediterranean Sea. It doesn't get any fresher then that.
La Ramblas is a long street about 1 mile long filled with shops, outdoor street vendors selling everything you can imagine including a huge farmers market. There are all kinds of fresh flower vendors, outdoor restaurants, trinkets n trash, street performers and at the very end where the waterfront begins -A huge statue of Christopher Columbus on a giant pedestal stands tall pointing out to the sea.
From there we wandered into the gothic neighborhood where the cool tapas bars are. There is one in particular I'm looking for but I don't know the name of it. I know it's across the street from the post office, near a church plaza, on the corner and it has giant barrels that shoot out hard cider from spouts.  We find the post office and the church plaza.  And there it is.....Sagardi. Immediately my head begins to throb from the flashbacks. Amanda and I bumped into this place where we had 3 bottles of evil wine called chocolie.  It's poured out of the bottle high up in the air from the glass from a special spout aerating the wine.  For those of you who have been to my house, you know which bottle I'm taking about....the green one with the special spout....(ok so I lifted one back then..). Anyway, the next day Amanda said to me 'mom, how did you find our way back to the hotel?'. Me: 'I have no idea....'.  We both had a headache for days and could not find this place again for the remainder of our trip. But by hook or by crook, Jud and I were going to find it - and we did. The tapas is on the honor system. They give you a plate and count your tooth pics up when you're ready to check out. Imagine that in the US. No one would ever have any tooth pics!  After a few beers, RED wine and tapas we decided to call it a night.
Tuesday was a ground covering day and we were up and out early. A little espresso, some pastry and it was time to hit some sites.  Sagrada Familia, Parc Gurell, more La Ramblas strolling, Jud continues to drop coin to any street person with a dog, and a gondola ride high over the beach all before dark.  A little siesta and then back to the waterfront for dinner. Same rules apply - nothing (good) opens till 8 pm.  Our earlier scoping totally paid off and since it's last night where we can have a hangover the next day, we decide to go all out. A bottle of Veuve ( toasting our 10 year anniversary for the zillionth time) mussels, dorado baked in sea salt and lobster. All caught fresh that morning. We dined outside, the service was spectacular and the view of the marina was amazing.  The sound of sail boat masts clanging, the roll of the water against the bulkhead and the smell of the sea is so calming.  Port for Jud. Limencello for me.  Nice walk back the hotel and zzzzzzzzzzzz.....
Today is Wednesday. Hard to believe we've been traveling for 2 weeks and I'm not ready to go home yet. Perhaps I could become an english speaking tour guide and Jud could drive a rickshaw......
We headed down to the central market in La Ramblas. It a huge market filled with fresh fish, meat, meat, more meat, produce, olive oils, cheeses - everything you can possibly imagine and weird stuff too  Funky looking clams, barnacles, rabbit, whole pigs and all their parts, lambs - I just cant look at that stuff. Note:  there are fruits, vegetables and butter in Barcelona!  
After what is called an english breakfast of eggs over ez, bacon and toast, (and chorizo sausage from Montserrat on the house)  we decided to venture out on a boat cruise on the Mediterranean Sea. An hour and a half up and down along the beaches.  It was so beautiful and a perfect day to be out on the water and it's so clear, you can see down for several feet.
Tonight is our last night in Barcelona and we have dinner reservations at Tickets at 9:30 pm. I have no idea what to expect but I do know this,  I had to make these reservations 90 days in advance - stalking the website every night after 7 pm EST so when their book turned for the day, I would hopefully get a spot. More to come on that later.
It's time to go print the boarding passes for tomorrow's flights. We have a 730 am flight from Barcelona to Madrid. Then 1230 from Madrid to Phila. Going to be a long day.....



Sent from my iPad

Barcelona Bound

San Sebastian is mostly a summer resort town where people flock to the wide long white beaches to swim in the Bay of Biscay and savor some of the best food in Spain and perhaps the world. It borders France and the Pyrenees mountains within 15 miles.  A small fishing village contains rows of hole in the wall restaurants where you can taste the fresh catch of the day and seaman who have not shaved or bathed in decades. High rise ornate buildings (perhaps condos) which appear to have been built in the late 19th century overlook the beaches. Old stone cabanas have been turned into little swanky eateries. The town immediately strikes a resemblance to Monaco sans the celebrity snobbery and pretension. A statue of Jesus sits high upon a mountain top facing the horseshoe shaped beach town as if to keep watch. On Sunday, the cathedral church bells rang all day. Sometimes for 5 minutes at a time. It's quite a remarkable place.  
One of the downsides of staying in a hostel or pension rather then a hotel is that there's no room service. No one to bring you breakfast or coffee to nurse the hangover or the exhaustion from being out till the wee hours. Make sure there is Advil handy at all times along with bottles of water and chips. Pray you remembered to take your cholesterol pill, take a quick bird bath, grab your boot straps and drag yourself out for recovery. And that's exactly what we did Sunday morning.
It's been raining for 2 days straight - Sunday close to biblical rain. Blowing, broken umbrellas in trash cans, and people wearing full length plastic suits. Should have brought my Harley rain gear for this weather. We've been on the move so much we decided to just get some food and chill in the room. AKA nap and nurse so we can get our act together for a nice sit down dinner for our last night in San Sebastian.  Although Jud talked me into Disco Burger #3 in the afternoon in between naps.
Restaurants don't open till 8 pm and many are closed on Sunday and Monday. We were on the hunt for a quite place where we could sit down, have a bottle of wine, some local beef and the infamous regional tomato salad. We came upon a place called Atari Gastromix which offered all that and more.   The menu was not in English it was in Basque - and it was not a large menu. Maybe 4 or 5 items under each category of cheese, starters, beef, fish and dessert. The photo drawing of a giant cow caught my eye which also helped us choose this place. Our server did an amazing job of explaining each dish as best she could almost using pictionary style explanations.  We ordered a nice bottle of Rioja, tomato salad with spring onions and olive oil and a chuleta steak to share. Have no idea what cut of meat a chulata is - looked to be the strip side of the bone. We were blown away. One of THE best meals so far on this trip.
It stopped raining long enough for us to take a stroll along the promenade.  The wind picked up, my umbrella officially turned completely inside out and in the trash it went.
It's now Monday and we are on a train to Barcelona which is the final leg of our journey. The sun is shining, Jud is attempting to find some food on this moving bullet, no more hostels or pensions - blew the budget and booked a suite at the Neri Hotel (down in the dark Barrie Gothic section) for our last 3 nights.
Sent from my iPad

Soaking Saturday.

San Sebastian is a place tucked away 15 miles from France and borders the Pyrenees mountains in the Bay of Biscay. Giant homes and condos on the beaches. Old stone cabanas which are now restaurants. A giant statue of Jesus from a mountaintop over looks the town.  A tiny fishing port with hole in the wall places where you can grab a taste of the fresh local catch and old seamen who have not bathed or shaved in decades. And a language all their own - Euskara. Completely unintelligible but nothing a good 'point' can't get you through.
It's been raining for 2 days straight. But that does not keep anyone from hitting the shops or tapas bars.  San Sebastian has 3, 5 star Michelin restaurants and some of the best gastronomy creations and tapas bars in the world.  The food is beautiful, tastes like heaven and generally inexpensive. But you have to be adventurous. This place is not for the squishy fuss bucket what is this I'm eating kind of diner. At the tapas bars, you are given a plate to peruse up and down the long display of items piled high on platters and you just reach in and take what you want. If something needs to be heated, the bartender will hustle it back to the kitchen to be warmed up. And you just keep perusing, eating and drinking.  Not to worry - the bartender is keeping his eye on you and track of what you are choosing. The bars are generally packed with people so you need to make your way into the food, or you don't eat. You have to see it and experience it to believe it and understand it.  Tapas in the US is crap.
After we returned the car (more drama I will skip) we walked around in the rain for a while to the sea, fishing village and hit some shops in the Old Town. We are staying smack dab in the old town where there are no cars. Just narrow streets. I introduced Jud to Disco Burger. A little hamburger joint that looks like something from home and out of the 50's.  Double burger, queso, fried onions, bacon and fried gooey egg on a bun. We went back twice and I'm sure based on the hangover today, we will be heading there shortly.
After siesta, we got our act together and hot the town again umbrellas in tow. Most restaurants don't open till 8 pm and the popular ones fill up quickly. I can't tell you how many we hit but there were a few memorable ones. Jud started a chat with a man who was traveling alone from Sweden. Then we bumped into a couple from Naples FL and began chatting with them. They began chatting with a couple from South Africa.  Next thing you know, there are 6 of us rolling to another bar, bottles of cava all around and THE most amazing tapas so far. Nothing is displayed on the bar. There is a chalk board on the wall, it all comes from the kitchen and is hot food. Veal cheeks, giant scallop, duck magret, foie gras, chocolate gnash and orange - each plated on a different sauce. The couple from FL insisted they pay for everything. Life is too short and paying it forward. Making me wonder what was really going on there.... The South African couple (who now live in London) hung around with us for a while. Jud and his new found friend Byron finished some bottle of evil Basque spirit. I literally had to cut them off and announce it was time to go home before someone passed out. Fortunately, we were only steps from the hotel.
It's Sunday morning and the church bells are ringing constantly over and over again.  There is Spanish music playing from someone's home in the back courtyard we can hear. The windows are open and the rain is still falling. Regardless, it's another beautiful day in Donostia - the basque word for San Sebastian.
Meeting people from all over the world has been a huge part of this trip. I can't wait to get out there and do it again today.

Sent from my iPad

From Bilbao to San Sebastian

Bilbao is an old little town nestled within the mountains. Mountains mountains mountains and then plop - Bilbao in the middle. The main attraction is the Guggenheim museum and I purposely chose the hotel directly across the street for convenience. Certainly not expecting the WOW factor we experienced. Our room faced the museum and had an open shower and a Phillip Stark free standing tub which was all encased in glass so you could shower/tub and have a fantastic view of the museum at night with a bottle of wine. The entire hotel was uber modern and artsy fartsy to the max. But at the same time was wam, cozy and inviting. We immediately hit the streets for some wine/cervesa and some tapas. The food and the language begins to change when you enter Basque territory. Spanish phrases like 'hola' become buenos dais or even hello is acceptable. Spelling is different and many street signs and billboards show spanish AND basque.  I can wing my way through spanish but basque has no resemblance of recognizable english words. Stellar pointing skills are a must!  Tapas everywhere and it's not like what you see in America. What we call tapas pales in comparison and frankly is an insult to the fine art and taste of these little masterpieces.  Plate after plate piled high and extending the entire length of the bar - every plate different and beautifully displayed. Only real life experience can make you understand the real thing but photos will have to do cause there is no justice in further attempting to explain.
We went from bar to bar having a few samples of tapas and beverage. We came upon a young American couple who were traveling with some friends who were from Spain. They were from NY and actually moving to Taiwan after their vacation. Their Spanish friend was hilarious and spoke fairly good english  They has obviously been drinking all day and he was concentrating very hard enunciating his words all the while bobbing and weaving to stay upright.
They asked us to stay on with them for more libations but I thought it was better if we went back to the swanky hotel bar where we were only an elevator ride away from being horizontal.
I ordered a Cosmo and Jud ordered a Jack n coke. It's different here when you order a mixed drink. They actually bring (on a tray of course) the glass filled with ice, a bottle of coke and the entire bottle of JD. The glass goes down on the table, the JD is poured............ (I counted to at least 6) then let's top it off with a whiff of coke. All in a giant goblet or lets call this one a challis. 4 of these later it was time for nite nite termite - I think we finished the bottle.
We were at the Guggenheim promptly at 11 am after some much needed coffee and a little pastry and potato tortilla. The building itself is the attraction and the 'art'. The photos will show its majestic form and presence and literally directly across the street from the hotel. The museum is filled with sculptures and abstract paintings. A giant piece of metal standing upright or a blank piece of paper in a frame is a struggle for me to appreciate as 'art' but the world thinks it is so I try and be open minded about it. But frankly, I don't get it.
Check out was not till 3 pm (imagine that!) so we did not get on our way to San Sebastian till later in the day. It's only about a 1.5 hour drive so there was no need to hurry out. The drive to San Seb was interesting.... High mountains, some with huge peaks, twisty highways and lots of  tunnels.   So far, our driving and finding our destinations has been easy. Today - not so much.....  Remember, the language changes so what we printed in Spanish did not match the Basque language and the exits are not in chronological order. 5, 3, 8. - where is 7???  To make a long story short we were lost, no one speaks English, the roads are not marked well, there are more of those damn roundabouts, the traffic lights go red yellow green (go) green yellow red (stop), and don't forget to stop at the pedestrian crossings every 100 feet, we are driving around in circles and all I could remember is just get to the water - we need to be near the ocean. So we get to the ocean and I see the hotel where Amanda and I stayed - Hotel Parma. Thats good. I know we are at least in the right neighborhood. The problem is (and there are a few), we need to get fuel, return the rental car, and our hotel is down in the deep dark bowels of the Old Town. No roads there....it's all walking. We decide to just find a parking garage, find the hotel and deal with the car later and probably just return it the next day. We are both fried and thirsty.
Finding the hotel or pension was easy - we had a good map and I remembered my way around enough to get us pointed in the right direction. Pension Edorta is buried deep in the Old Town section where there are only pedestrian streets and the tapas bars and shops are plentiful. Amanda and I spent most of our time here so it made sense to just stay where the action is. A Pension is similar to a Hostel.  But at this place our room and bed are much bigger. Thank God cause we almost killed each other in Madrid in such a small space for several days. I was prepared to change hotels if this room turned out to be as small as the Hostel in Madrid.  
Tomorrow we will attempt to return the car but for now it's Friday night in San Sebastian and it's time to get out on the town!  
Sent from my iPad

Playing Catch Up!

Tuesday was our last day in Seville. We slept in since we were up way late and there was music, singing and dancing in our street for most of the night. Big street party that went on till almost 3 am.
We spent the day roaming the streets and getting lost. Well, you are never really 'lost' cause the town is not that big. You either run into the river or the Cathedral and then you know where you are. And there is always a friendly non threatening person to help if you're completely confused.
Pastry and espresso for breakfast - eggs with tuna/tomato and Andalusian gazpacho for lunch. Sangria all around. Yes the food is weird and the diet is hard on the American innards. But these people eat pastry, drink espresso, sugar, sugar, sugar, bread, cheese, olive oil  and ham, smoke like chimneys, drink wine or beer at every meal (even breakfast) eat dinner at damn near midnight and are not overweight. Trying to keep up with them is a huge challenge and a hell of a lot of fun!
After siesta we decided to stick close to the hotel for our evening adventure. After all, the party seems to be only steps away and I was hoping not to have to pull a map out or leave peanuts along the way so we could find our way back after multiple libations.
We sat down outside in a courtyard loaded with fully set tables - china, silverware, wine and water glasses.  What- glass - outside?  Of course!  Drinking anything from plastic especially wine is a travesty!
The waiters are always men. The ladies are often behind the bar or sometimes no where to be found. Maybe behind the pastry counter but food service appears to be a mans thing here.
I had the baby lamb chops, Jud had the roast suckling pig, bottle of wine and then a nightcap. Off to bed as we had an early train back to Madrid where we picked up a car and headed to Leon.
While the rest of you are sleeping and it's already the next day here, we were up, out and back on the Ave ( ahh-vay) train. It was a Sunday when we took the Ave train to Seville and our coach was empty - we had the whole thing to ourselves.  Heading back to Madrid it was a Wednesday. The coach was full of business travelers, cell phones ringing, talking, some shouting and newspapers rustling. All the things I've been so happy to get away from. We've not turned on the TV, read the news or discussed our 'in common' profession for a week.  I could not wait to get off the train.....
Renting a car was really simple. A passport, drivers license and a credit card. Sign on the dotted line, here's your English copy, the keys, a map, your gas cap location and off you go.
Getting out of Madrid was a little tricky but once we were on the highway, it was easy. Lots of service stations, pottys and places to grab a bite. The first part of our driving adventure is from Madrid to Leon. About 200 miles north west towards the coast. Remnants of old castles, churches, fortresses and look out towers all along. Grapes growing to the left and cattle grazing to the right.  Mountains all around and most of the land is untouched.
We arrived in Leon smack dab in the middle of siesta time which was good cause there was little traffic. Jud dutifully had printed detailed road maps so we could navigate our way in and out of the town. Road signs were sparse and they love their roundabouts. The old Jersey circles as we know them.  And who needs lines on the roads - cars just go wherever. Good thing we are driving something the size of a roller-skate.
We are staying at Parador San Marco. It's an old monastery turned Hotel. There are 100 Paradors all over Spain. Old castles, forts, prisons and monasteries turned into 3, 4, and 5 star hotels. Think of the Royal Palace on steroids with crosses, statues of various saints and the ability to freely explore every room nook and cranny. In the dark using a cell phone for light.   You will have to wait for the photos - I can't even begin to explain it further.
Leon is a old traditional town. Not much to really explore here except the local cuisine and wine.  There is an Old Town section filled with tapas bars and locals but it was raining and at least a 20 minute walk. Jud will be tapas terrorized over the next few days so we decided it would be better to have a sit down meal at the Parador. The bar opens at 7 pm and the restaurant at 9 pm. Old school - siesta, drink no earlier then 7 and eat no earlier then 9. It will be like this the remainder of our trip.  Welcome to the north.
After wine, cervesa, manhattan and manchego it was time to sit down in the dining room. Mealtime is more of an event in the north then any other place I remember.  It's meant to be savored slowly and with lots of wine, wine and more wine.  And when you think you just can't take it anymore, have another glass. At this juncture, Rioja is running through my veins and Betty Ford is only a phone call away.
The dining room is like a banquet hall. Black and white checkered floor, table clothes and all the male servers in black formal dress. The menu is loaded with regional dishes and they have a pre fix menu of nothing but regional dishes which is what I opted for. Jud ordered the black pudding and the veal cheek loin. I had leeks w/olive oil vinaigrette, pumpkin cream soup w/local cheese curds, roast breast of veal and rice pudding. One of the most amazing meals of my life.  2 hour or so later we stumbled through the Parador finding more shrines, passageways, outdoor  courtyard with ginormous stone columns. The only rule - don't smoke and close the outside doors.  Otherwise, have at it.
Our room was very nice, hot shower with elephant style water pressure, finally a (double) sink with a ledge so my stuff was not constantly falling on the floor, 2 double beds pushed together and a terrace.  
Breakfast was included so up and out we were for coffee and more regional delicacies. You gotta love a country that starts their buffet line with pastry first it's 2/3 of the breakfast offering.
We are back in the roller skate today heading for Bilbao (200 miles) going north east of Leon into the mountainous Basque region. Jud's driving. I'm typing, taking pictures and clutching the map.  Destination Silken Hotel across from the Guggenheim.
Gotta go  We are almost there and I have to start paying attention. Adios!  

Sent from my iPad