Less Cheese

August - December 2015
A 107-day adventure by Roch Read more
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  • 5countries
  • 107days
  • 108photos
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  • 14.8kkilometers
  • 11.8kkilometers
  • Day 35

    Rainy Days in Coimbra

    October 4, 2015 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C

    We knew when we booked our hotel for four nights here that we were in for some rainy weather in Coimbra. Had it not been for the Weather Network's forecast, we likely would have only planned on a two day visit, but riding in the wind and rain is very unappealing, particularly this early into our journey.

    As it turns out, there's lots to see and do in this Unesco World Heritage city, so between showers we'll be able to make the most of our time here.

    Coimbra is a preserved medieval town that served as Portugal's capital in the 12th and 13th centuries. The university was founded in 1290 and is the 10th oldest continuous operating university in the world (for trivia fans, Bologna is #1 followed closely by Oxford).

    Like Porto, the topography here is extremely hilly with the university sitting high atop the hillside. The narrow, winding cobbled streets that we became accustomed to in Porto are everywhere here, with medieval stone walls and ancient buildings bordering both sides.

    When we arrived on Saturday we strolled through the old city center and up the hill to the university. Unfortunately, as we neared the university, a construction crew was operating a crane on the street we were climbing and had blocked off any further access. We had to turn around and head back down the hill, but we took a different route to take in as many of the sights as possible. Beautiful scenery and vistas were everywhere.

    As predicted, we awoke Sunday morning to the sound of wind driven rain pelting down onto the windows of our room. By noon the rain had pretty much stopped falling, so we ventured out to try some of the local goodies.

    We've realized that the Portuguese have a very serious sweet tooth.There are pastry shops literally at every corner, all of them doing a very brisk business. Right around the corner from our room is Pastelaria Briosa, a shop that displays many awards for their creations. I had a piece of Bolo Formigo, a sweet, moist almond, walnut and chocolate cake that was scrumptious. Brenda had five almond meringue cookies (okay, she had three and I had two) that were also spectacular.

    Afterwards, as we walked along the plaza, we noticed a sign advertising VII Mostra de Docaria. With our limited Portuguese, we were able to figure out that it was a show with something to do with desserts and cooking demonstrations. Since it was happening at that very moment, we got directions to the place and set off. As instructed, we climbed the hill towards the university, went past the statue of Diaz, skirted the Botanical Garden, walked past the Pope, admired the Roman aqueduct and went around the penitentiary.

    I've been to countless wine tastings where all kinds of producers are offering samples of their products, but this was the first time I've ever seen pastry owners behind the tables. Pastries from all over Portugal were being offered up by some of the best shops around. Many of them looked similar, but each region had their own twist. We bought a couple of pieces to bring home for dessert,bolo rançoso for Brenda and toucinho do céu for me.

    After we had finished drooling over all the treats, as we headed back towards our room, the weather was worsening and we decided to go back to our room, crack open our €3.00 bottle of sparkling wine and eat our desserts.

    It doesn't get sweeter than that.
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  • Day 39

    Time Out!

    October 8, 2015 in Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C

    We left Coimbra Wednesday morning at about 8:45 in 10 degree weather that required a long sleeve shirt under my cycling tank. We headed west toward the coast and the seaside resort town of Figueira da Foz, about a 45 km ride.The terrain was mostly flat with a few rolling hills thrown in along the way. Approximately 8 kms from our destination, there was a fairly steep 120 meter elevation gain and, equally steep descent on the other side of the hill.

    I usually let Brenda take the lead as we travel, but when going down hills, I let gravity take over and, because of our weight difference, inevitably end up in front of her. In any case, Brenda does not like riding too fast and I've teased her about being "chicken" many times over the years.

    As we descended the hill towards Figueira da Foz, I once again went by Brenda, but as I felt the speed becoming a little perilous, began applying my brakes from time to time. Suddenly, I heard a bike coming up behind me on my left, thinking it was one of the many road bikers we'd seen along our journey. As I glanced left, I was astounded to see Brenda about to overtake me. When I later looked at my Strava data, I was doing 43.9 km/h at the time, so Brenda was probably going close to 50.

    And that's when it happened. Brenda's bike began to wobble and the next thing I knew, she lost control and hit the pavement. I immediately skidded to a stop and went to her aid, as did several good Samaritans who were passing by. Brenda had left a lot of skin on the pavement and was bleeding from a cut above her right eye. I broke out the first aid kit and tried to clean her up as best I could, but it was obvious we wouldn't be getting back on our bikes any time soon. Someone called for an ambulance and Brenda was brought to the hospital in Figueira.

    After dressing her many wounds, giving her a full examination, CT scan and X-rays, fortunately, the only serious issue they found is a small fracture to her right cheekbone. Although the doctor said it appears to be well aligned, to be on the safe side, he booked an appointment with a maxillofacial surgeon for Friday afternoon at the University hospital in Coimbra

    Until then, we've extended our booking here for a week to give Brenda's wounds a chance to heal and re-build her strength.

    Whether we continue our journey on two wheels is yet to be seen, but as they say, que sera sera. Trains and car rental are both cheap and easy here, so we have lots of options. The most important thing now is for Brenda to heal and get back on her feet.

    I'll keep you posted as things progress.

    https://www.strava.com/activities/408042498

    Distance traveled today: 38.9 kms
    Elevation gain: 349 m
    Moving time: 2:53.07
    Average speed:13.5 kmh
    Total distance traveled: 188.9 kms
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  • Day 41

    Back To Coimbra

    October 10, 2015 in Portugal ⋅ 🌧 16 °C

    Friday morning I rented a car to make the trip to the University Hospital in Coimbra. The 44 km drive east was a lot smoother and faster than the 38 km ride we made on Wednesday morning.

    Brenda had a 1:30 appointment with a maxillofacial surgeon who was to assess whether her fractured cheekbone needed further medical attention. We arrived at the hospital at around 12:35, but by the time we found the building and department we were looking for, it was a little past 1:00. The receptionist told us the doctor was running a little late and she wouldn't see Brenda until about 2:00. We were the first to arrive in the waiting room, but we weren't alone for long. As 2:00 PM approached, the room filled to overflowing with patients and I began to think we were back in Canada and for a 12 hour wait. At right around 2:30, Brenda's name was called and we met with the surgeon, a young woman who spoke perfect English. After completing her examination and reviewing Brenda's CT scan and file, she confirmed the fracture to be well aligned and in no need of surgery.

    The care Brenda has received here has been exceptional and we are so grateful for the kindness of all the doctors, nurses and staff who have attended to her. Despite the language barrier, we were always able to make ourselves understood and, more often that not, were served in either English or French. In all, to treat Brenda's injuries we've spent a total of only about 6 hours in hospitals and 225.00€. Although the cost would have been less back home, I cringe at the thought of how long we would have spent waiting for treatment in the emergency room.

    Brenda's wounds are slowly healing, but the road rashes are still quite raw and sore. She's up and about now, and is definitely feeling a little better every day, although she's anxious for the raspberries to form scabs. Hopefully, within a couple of days she'll be able to walk around without too many dressings on her injuries.

    Rain is in the forecast for the next couple of days, so we'll just catch up on our reading and watch some of the shows and movies I've downloaded to my computer. It's not the trip we'd planned, but it beats working nonetheless.
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  • Day 45

    Figueira da Foz

    October 14, 2015 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    This little fishing village turned resort town was supposed to be a one night stand for us as we made our way down the Portuguese coast toward Lisbon. As it turned out, we ended up spending a week here while Brenda convalesced from her biking injuries. We stayed at the Hotel Aviz, a nice little Mom and Pop establishment owned and operated by a charming couple who were very helpful despite the language barrier caused by our lack of Portuguese. For the first couple of days, I was pretty much on my own as Brenda was in a lot of pain from the severe road rashes on her right arm and both legs, her bruised ribs and her fractured cheekbone. On Friday we got her out of the room for the first time when we drove back to Coimbra for her appointment with the maxillofacial surgeon. Once we learned she wouldn't need any reconstructive surgery, we came back to Figueira to chill out for a few days.

    And chill we did, literally and figuratively. Although Figueira is probably a pretty happening place in the summer, it's pretty sleepy come mid-October. The main attraction here is the beach, which is absolutely huge. From the coastal road to the water, the sand must stretch for at least 500 meters. Unfortunately, some nasty weather set in over the weekend and didn't really clear out until Tuesday morning. Thanksgiving weekend was rainy, windy and pretty cool. On Monday Brenda was nonetheless feeling strong enough to venture outside to explore the town with me. We stumbled upon a little hole in the wall restaurant that was brimming with locals and decided we'd have our Thanksgiving lunch there. Of course, there are no Thanksgiving celebrations here, so we had to improvise, particularly since none of the local restaurants cater to vegetarians, let alone vegans.On the other hand, without exception, every restaurant offers up wonderful soups at bargain prices.They're almost always thickened with potatoes and are usually vegetable based. They have all been delicious. This restaurant brought a cauldron of soup to the table, followed by a rice dish, a plate of chick peas sauteed with onions and a delicious salad. And no turkeys were harmed in the making of our meal!

    By Tuesday the sun had returned and we ventured out to take our first look at the beach. It is spectacular. The sand goes on forever and eventually brings you to a steeply sloping shore with crashing waves. We walked along the shoreline to a breakwater with a lighthouse where we sat and enjoyed the sun and ate some delicious grapes from the Algarve. Aside from the gulls and one other couple, we had the entire beach to ourselves.

    On Wednesday, we again strode along the water, in the opposite direction from Tuesday, and one again felt like we were the only people enjoying this beautiful place.

    Tomorrow we pack our things and head south to Lisbon where we'll spend another week. For the time being, we'll be traveling by car, but hopefully we'll be back on or bikes fairly soon. One thing at a time.
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  • Day 47

    Figueira to Lisbon

    October 16, 2015 in Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C

    We rented a car to make the roughly 200 km ride to our home for the next 7 days, Lisbon. I got a nasty surprise when I dropped the little Fiat off to the Europcar concession in Lisbon as the one-way charge cost more than the actual rental charge. I had booked the car through a third party provider, AutoEurope, for what I thought was an all inclusive price that had the drop off fee built in. I apparently didn't read the fine print. Oh well, I won't make that mistake again.

    In any event, we took the slow scenic route down the coast and were treated to incredible vistas as we drove south. We stopped for lunch at about the half way point in the resort town of Nazare, and to check out their highly reputed scenery. We were not disappointed. When we drove into town, the Google Maps app brought us straight to the scenic lookout that towers over the town 360 meters below. Unlike Figueiro, the beach here had plenty of people strolling along the sand and even a few brave souls paddleboarding in the frigid water.

    After taking in the views from above, we drove down to sea level and were equally as impressed by the beauty of the cliff we had just been standing upon. We followed some locals into a cafeteria style restaurant and had (what else ?) a delicious bowl of vegetable soup and some rice and beans for lunch.

    The rest of the journey was less spectacular as we used the highway to bring us in to Lisbon. Once we arrived, after a week in sleepy Figueira, I was unprepared for the narrow one way streets crowded with pedestrians and autos alike. Fortunately, the Portuguese are, for the most part, very courteous drivers, so my hesitant, and sometimes bad driving was tolerated.

    We arrived at our apartment a little after 3:00 and were greeted by the owner, Tomas, who is a most gracious and helpful host.

    After we settled in, I wanted to drop Brenda's bike off to a local Dahon dealer to repair the damage caused by the accident and then return the rental car. Of course, by this time we were approaching rush hour and traffic was a nightmare. Add in the hilly, winding, narrow one-way streets, traffic cops forbidding me to turn left at certain intersections and, after 45 minutes of utter frustration, I cried Uncle, gave up on the bike shop and headed straight to the rental agency to get rid of the car.

    We walked back to the bike shop to have the repairs done and from there wandered the streets of Lisbon to scope out the territory.

    It's a beautiful city and we're looking forward to exploring it thoroughly. I must say that I didn't think anywhere could be hillier than Porto, but I couldn't have been more wrong. With all this climbing I have a feeling that we'll be leaving Portugal with buns of steel.
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  • Day 50

    Lisbon

    October 19, 2015 in Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    Well, I've been a little lazy in posting our adventures in Lisbon, but as you read on you'll understand why.

    First, let's talk about our accommodations. We booked this two bedroom apartment through Air BnB that described it as "quirky". Indeed. Walking through the front door looking up the first of four flights of stairs, one is taken aback by how decrepit the walls appeared to be. Up and up we climbed with the carpeting on the stairs changing from storey to storey and the stair widths doing likewise. The walls went from bare plaster to wallpaper, to patchwork wood panels. The apartment was extremely spacious with two bedrooms and bathrooms, a full kitchen and a sitting area. More than we needed, but it all came with the package. The floor in the hallway sloped so much that any excess alcohol consumption would have us literally bouncing off the walls. Good thing we rarely overindulge. The entire apartment was furnished with flea market antiques and artwork that perfectly blended into the rest of the apartment. We had access to a separate laundry area that was fiercely guarded by Godzilla in a birdcage. It was great!

    It's funny, Lisbon has never really been on my list of must-see places in the world, yet I was blown away by the beauty and charm of this city. As we explored, we were astounded by the size of the buildings and the effort that went into the stonemasons' work on many of them. Several buildings were so vast I had to use the panoramic setting on my camera to fit them into the picture. Rarely do you see travel shows extolling its virtues, but it truly should receive better press. It's a vibrant place, filled with history, beautiful architecture, including at least two palaces, a castle and a Roman aqueduct, an antique tram system and warm, charming people. I suppose its intense topography may put off a lot of people, but it's still quite manageable if you take it at a reasonable pace.

    That is, of course, if you're not recovering from a serious bike accident.

    After a couple of days of climbing Lisbon's hills, we had stopped at a shop to have some copies made while we were on our way to lunch. While we were waiting, Brenda said to me, "I don't feel very well." Within no time, she was sitting on the floor and going in and out of consciousness. An ambulance was called to the scene and she was transported to hospital where a battery of tests were performed. In the end, it was confirmed that not only had she suffered a mild concussion in the accident, but she was extremely anemic and needed a blood transfusion! She spent the night in hospital receiving the urgent care she required, including one unit of blood, and was released the following morning. The doctors prescribed some medication, cautioned her to take it easy and to consult with her family doctor when she gets home, the sooner the better.

    So we followed the doctor's orders and took it very easy from then on. We took the tram out to Belem, a suburb about 10 kms west of Lisbon and sampled their scrumptiously delicious Pasteis de Belem, a puff pastry pie shell filled with a creamy vanilla custard. We saw the ornately adorned monastery and the famous (?) Tour de Belem. Best of all, the terrain was pancake flat.

    In her current condition, there's no way she can get back on her bike. Alas, we decided that we would take an extra couple of days here in Lisbon then bus down to Malaga, in the south of Spain for two weeks. Betty, Gordo, Zenna and Anna will join us in Seville on November 11 for a four day visit before we embark on our cruise to Brazil on the 15th. We'll spend a month in Brazil, primarily in Salvador and Rio before flying home to Ottawa on Christmas morning.

    As much as we wanted to continue our journey as originally planned, Brenda's health is way more important than stubbornly pursuing it. On the plus side, it'll be nice to spend Xmas with family, but I'm not looking forward to the cold. We plan to stay in Ottawa for about a month and then fly out to Vancouver for several months. That way, we'll at least miss the worst winter months in Ottawa.

    So, with only 188 kms logged on our bikes, our cycling trip is interrupted, but will certainly be taken up again at some time in the future.
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  • Day 59

    Málaga

    October 28, 2015 in Spain ⋅ 🌙 19 °C

    Blue skies
    Smiling at me
    Nothing but blue skies
    Do I see

    It all started at the Spanish Embassy on a Wednesday last August.

    That was the day this retirement trip hit its first hurdle. We had gone there to apply for the European visa that would allow us to remain in Spain and Portugal for the duration of our trip. Armed with the required forms, our passports and the reams of paper required for the application, we were immediately told that there was no way our request would be processed in time for our departure and our stay would therefore be limited to only three months. Our options were to overstay our welcome (that could lead to fines and banishment from Europe for five years), go to the UK for three months (too cold), go to Morocco for three months (too dicey) or find another solution. Good fortune smiled on us with a cheap cruise to Brazil that would have us spending the coldest Northern Hemisphere's months south of the equator. Best of all, we found an equally cheap cruise back to Barcelona in March that would allow us to complete the European portion of the trip.

    Ok, a minor setback turned into bonus travel to a country we've never visited before. Lemons to lemonade.

    On September 26 we flew to Porto without incident and quite enjoyed our four days there. However, that's where Brenda started to have health issues. "Menorrhagia" hit with a vengeance. For those who don't know what it is, believe me, it's "bloody scary"! We went to emergency and ultrasound tests reassured us that everything was normal. Despite feeling weak from anemia, Brenda bravely soldiered on.

    When we arrived at our third port of call, Coimbra, the weather took a turn for the worse and forced us to extend our stay there for a couple of days. Just as well, I suppose, as Brenda was feeling quite tired from her ongoing condition. Of course, rather than lie in bed resting, Brenda was eager to get out and explore the city, albeit at a relaxed pace.

    Our grey cloud lifted temporarily on Wednesday morning as we left Coimbra on a beautiful sunny morning. It came back again six kilometers outside of Figueira da Foz when Brenda had her crash. The cloud once again lingered over us as Brenda slowly recovered from her injuries. Our anticipated one night stay in Figueira was extended to eight days while we waited for the road rashes to heal enough for us to continue onward. As the days passed, Brenda slowly began feeling better, and was eventually able to get out of the room to explore the town, but she was still in a lot of pain.

    When it was time to leave, traveling by bike was simply not an option, so we rented a car to drive to Lisbon. I won't repeat the details of the debacle with the drop-off fee, but suffice to say, the grey cloud seemed to have followed us to Lisbon. Things did, however, improve, as did Brenda's health. We had funky accommodations in a great neighborhood in a vibrant city. Maybe we've turned a corner.

    Nope. Then came the loss of consciousness in the print shop, a third trip to the emergency room within three weeks, an overnight stay in the hospital and a blood transfusion.

    Uncle.

    The doctors advised that Brenda's present condition would not allow her to continue this journey by bike so we decided to throw in the towel and return home on Christmas day. We'll still take our cruise to Brazil and spend some time there, but we need to get Brenda back to Canada to follow up on her medical care.

    So there. We gave in. Stop with the torture already.

    In keeping with our truncated travel plans, we skipped right over the Algarve region and most of the south of Spain and went straight from Lisbon to Malaga, where we plan to spend two weeks soaking up the warm Spanish sun and enjoying the sandy beach. Malaga has 300 days of sunshine annually, but we've arrived right in the middle of the other 65. We It was raining on Sunday when we pulled into town. It rained most of the day Monday and part of the day Tuesday. Big rain. Wednesday has been beautiful and the forecast calls for nice weather for a few days.

    Dare I hope that our cloud has finally left us?

    Yeah, I think so.

    Despite all my whining, all the bad luck, all the nasty weather and Brenda's health concerns, the trip has been a treat. I'm blessed to be able to live this life with the woman I cherish by my side. I am grateful that the injuries she suffered in her accident will, in time, heal. It could have been far worse. Years from now when we look back on this, we'll recall the wonderful experiences far more readily than the bad ones.

    In the end, this trip will look nothing like the one we had so carefully planned, but it'll nonetheless be one we'll always treasure.

    Blue skies overhead from now on.
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  • Day 70

    So, What Did You Do On Your Vacation?

    November 8, 2015 in Spain ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C

    We've been chilling in the seaside town of Malaga for nearly two weeks now and are about to move onto our next destination, Seville. While we were in Malaga, my blogs took a backseat to a much more important task: doing nothing! With our bike trip washed out, we have no real schedule to keep, other than be back in Malaga for our cruise to Brazil on the 15th. So, when we arrived in Malaga from Lisbon, the only thing on our agenda was to try and get in some beach time.

    Despite our lack of initiative, we nonetheless managed to explore a good portion of the city (particularly the old part) and learn a fair bit of history while we were at it.

    Malaga has an extremely rich history, dating back almost 2800 years which makes it one of the oldest cities in the world. Huh! Who knew? It was founded by the Phoenicians in 770 BC who coveted its wealth of that very precious mineral, salt. In the 6th century BC the city was taken over by the Carthegenians. The Romans moved in in 218 BC and, in the first century BC, built the Roman theatre, a portion of which is still standing today. They hung around until the fifth century AD when Barbarians from the north took over. The moors and their Islamic customs conquered the city in 712 AD and went about constructing a wall around the city and, in 756, built a fortress/palace known as Alcazaba, using stone and architectural elements quarried from the Roman Theatre. There are several areas in Alcazaba where Islamic style doorways are flanked by Roman columns. The city's fortifications and defenses were strengthened in 929 with the building of the Gibralfaro Castle atop the highest hill in the city. Today, only the walls remain, but the views from the castle are spectacular.

    I thought my history lessons had ended with my visit to the ancient ruins, but one day Brenda and I took a walking tour that was really enlightening. We learned that in 1487, Ferdinand and Isabella, and the Catholic church, decided to reclaim Malaga for Spain. Due to its heavy and, at the time, impregnable fortifications, the only way to defeat the Moors was to starve them out. The city was finally returned to Spanish hands after a three month siege and naval blockade had the desired effect. Interestingly, this conflict was the first in history where both sides used gunpowder.

    As in many places in Spain, most grocers and restaurants in Malaga have legs of Iberian ham hanging somewhere in plain view. Pork is featured prominently on a number of the dishes that are served here. This is not by coincidence. The tradition dates back to the Spanish Inquisition, where the Catholic Church went to great and barbaric lengths to root out the Jews and Muslims populating their cities. One of the surest ways to identify the non-Christians would be to order them to eat pork. If they refused, they were given three choices: convert, leave or be imprisoned. The custom of hanging Iberian hams or sausages in windows was born out of fear of accusation of non-compliance to the rules of the Church.

    How did they deal with vegans back then?

    The Catholics were as unkind to the Muslim places of worship as they were to the faithful. The Moors were prolific builders and had erected countless mosques, not only in Malaga but throughout Andalucia. Once they got rid of the Muslims, the Catholics decided they would go about converting all these mosques into churches. Nowhere else in the world will you see so many churches with domes than you will in the South of Spain.

    Enough history.

    Other than a couple of days of rain when we first arrived, the weather here has been perfect. Sunny with daytime highs in the low 20's and overnight lows in the mid-teens. There always seems to be a cool breeze coming in off the sea that makes it feel cooler than it actually is, but when the sun's out, it's never cold.

    Brenda and I made it to the beach a couple of times to catch a few rays in preparation for the beaches in Brazil. Unfortunately, the public beaches here leave a little to be desired in that there's a lot of litter lying around and the sand is very, VERY coarse. Of course, any beach is better than no beach and sometimes ya gotta take the crunchy with the smooth. With the ocean breeze and the warm sunshine, it was easy for us to lie out for a couple of hours soaking up some vitamin D. Since we're outside of the main tourist season, the beaches are quite deserted and there were no hawkers constantly trying to sell us their wares.

    Aside from the beach, we spent many hours aimlessly wandering through the neighbourhoods and streets of Malaga in search of that perfect Mom and Pop tapas shop. As I said before, much of the food here is very pork and seafood centric, so dining out was a bit of a challenge for us vegans. We nonetheless managed to get by with only a little compromise and very much enjoyed all the local fare we sampled.

    The fruit here was hit and miss. Mangoes, persimmons and cherimoyas were abundant, but getting them at the peak of ripeness was tricky. At the main market, the vendors arrive early in the morning to carefully stack their fruit in picture perfect displays. But they don't want you spoiling their efforts, so the minute you lay a hand on a mango to check its firmness, you are immediately scolded, “No Tocar!”
    In my very poor Spanish I then have to try to communicate that I want to buy enough mangoes to feed an army, but I want them to be ready to eat today. They don't get it. Sometimes the produce is perfect, sometimes it needs a few days and sometimes it's so ripe you can almost drink it. In the end, we started buying a lot of our produce from small fruit markets around our neighbourhood. That Mom and Pop thing again.

    Overall, we really enjoyed our time in Malaga and foresee a return here in the years to come. Perhaps we'll do it on our bikes, perhaps not. Que sera sera. Maybe next time we'll do something.
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  • Day 73

    Orange, orange everywhere.....

    November 11, 2015 in Spain ⋅ ☀️ 17 °C

    .... and not a bite to eat.

    One of the first things we noticed when we arrived in Malaga was the abundance of orange trees lining most of the main streets. All were laden with fruit in varying degrees of ripeness, and we wondered why people didn't help themselves to the free bounty.

    After a couple of days of admiring the trees, while on the way home from the market, I came across a tree that had particularly low hanging, bright orange fruit and I gave into the temptation. I tossed my prize into the bag with the rest of the oranges I had purchased at the mercado and made my way home.

    Curious to taste my ill gotten gains, I cut the orange in half. It looked like a regular orange, although the seeds were small and plentiful. I sniffed the cut half and found it to be bursting with orange aromatics. I brought the half to my mouth, carefully licked it and POW!!!, I learned why no one pilfers from the trees. It tasted a little like orange, but was as bitter as any lemon could be.

    We were later told by our tour guide that the oranges were brought to Andalusia by the Moors who prized the springtime fragrance and the beauty of the orange blossoms. There are roughly 650 of these bitter orange trees planted in Malaga alone. It was later discovered that marmalade is made by boiling the fruit, slicing the peel and adding sugar to the strained juice. Marmalade was widely used by seafarers way back when to ward off scurvy.

    When we arrived in Seville, we found even more trees. In fact, I read somewhere that there are more than 14,000 of them in the city! The Seville oranges are gathered from the trees once a year and 90% of them are shipped to the UK for the production of marmalade. I'm not sure what happens to the other 10%.

    Now that I think about it, I recall always seeing "Seville Orange Marmalade" on the jars back home. I just never imagined that the sweet concoction I spread on my toast started out so very, very bitter.

    I guess we'll have to come back here in the spring at some future date so we can experience the perfume of the orange trees in full bloom.
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  • Day 73

    Malaga To Seville

    November 11, 2015 in Spain ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C

    We took a three hour bus ride north from Malaga to bring us to Seville. We were seated in the first row of seats behind the bus driver and were treated to a great view of the rolling Andalusian hills and the olive groves and vineyards that cover them. We passed a number of hilltop medieval towns complete with fortresses and defensive walls. I wished we could have taken the time to stop and explore them, but alas, the driver had a schedule to follow.

    As it turned out, the schedule went by the wayside about 80 kilometers outside of Malaga. Despite wearing my earbuds and listening to music, I could hear some buzzers and bells intermittently sounding in the vicinity of the driver. Eventually, he pulled to the side of the road, walked around the bus, made a phone call and then announced something in Spanish. Although I couldn't completely understand his announcement, I got the gist: The bus had mechanical issues and we would not be able to continue our journey. After sitting there for about twenty minutes, his phone rang and, after a brief discussion, he got back behind the wheel and tried to get the bus moving. After a few attempts, the transmission finally engaged and we were slowly underway. By the time we were back on the highway, we were pretty much up to cruising speed and everything appeared to be alright (except, of course, for the continual beeping and buzzing from the instrument panel). I figured that the problem was with the electronic controls for the transmission. Once the bus stopped, the transmission refused to engage into first gear without considerable coaxing and prodding by the driver. But that was alright since he could stay on the highway all the way to Seville. Well, almost all the way. There was one bathroom break at about the half way point after which the driver skillfully got the bus back into motion.

    As we neared Seville, things became a little more complicated. The highway turned into a large boulevard controlled by traffic lights. At the first red light the bus stopped and, for some time, refused to start moving again. The driver shut everything down, including the air conditioning, for about five minutes to let things cool off and, when he fired it up again, we began to roll to much applause from the passengers. From then on it was a game between the driver and the traffic lights. He slowed down and sped up in order to keep the bus in motion at all times. However, at about 1.5 kilometers from the Seville bus station, we ran into traffic and the inevitable happened: the bus made its last stop of the day. After several failed attempts to move the behemoth, the driver conceded defeat and announced that we had reached the end of the line. We disembarked and, after checking Google Maps, I was happy to find that the walk to our rented apartment was shortened by the breakdown.

    Lemonade from lemons, or more aptly, marmalade from bitter oranges.
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