Contributed by my truckbuddy Tim from England, now resident in Spain:
Tim’s Take on Spain
Córdoba – Public Treasures, Private Passions?
I do like a nice coccyx, and that one is certainly exceptional. It’s a complex confluence of overlaying muscles that sometimes magically combine to create a wonderfully corrugated set of curves and channels at the base of the spine. I suppose Russ will tell me it’s more properly called the sacrum, but coccyx is the most commonly used term for this part of the torso and it’s such a playful word, why waste it?
Sadly, the coccyx is often overlooked, or hidden, compared to its more well known and up-front counterpart, the abdominal muscles. We all like the look of a six-pack, even if most of us have drunk ours by now! Every model worth his salt must be able to display at least a four-pack; some even have eight, goddammit! Nowadays I manage with just the one and cherish the memories of plurality!
Córdoba is a bit like a coccyx, when compared to the more well known abdominals of Granada. The beautiful red sandstone Alhambra Palace and terraced water gardens of the Generalife are justifiably considered some of the most beautiful monuments in the world, and put Granada at the top of the tourist trail in Spain. The small provincial city of Córdoba, however, stands somewhat in the shadow of its more illustrious cousin, yet the magnificent Moorish mosque, La Mezquita, and the tranquil pools and ponds of the Alcázar gardens are, to my mind, equally deserving of exploration and admiration, just like this coccyx!
When I started Tim’s Take at Russ’ behest, I decided straight away that I didn’t want to write about the ‘touristy’ side of Spain. It’s so much more than beaches and bullfights, flamenco and fiestas. Plenty of travel writers have been before me and done that. Ernest Hemingway and Orson Welles got a lot closer than most, so I’m in illustrious company!
For me it’s quite simple; in order to get to know Spain, you first have to understand its people, not its cultural symbols. And to get to know the Spanish people, you have to understand their passions: their extraordinary passion for life, death, and everything in between. This is the key to understanding the never-ending illogical actions, the seemingly endless contradictions that even everyday life throws up. It’s taken me almost ten years to appreciate this, slowly at first, but I now believe I’ve found that holy grail, the unifying theory that explains everything! It didn’t help being British; we are more used to keeping our emotions under control and our passions secret.
In Spain the view is just the opposite. How can you keep quiet about something you love? If you feel it, show it! But whilst Spanish emotions are always on display, their passions are harder to discern: you have to learn what to look for, and where to look for it. Not everything in Spain is obvious – to a foreigner’s eye. So in this post I want to make a contrast between some of the very public treasures on view, and the more private passions hidden behind some of Spain’s cultural icons, just like comparing the abdominals to the coccyx. And obviously I am going to talk about bullfighting and flamenco – see, that’s Spanish logic!
Partner and I act as key holders for some of our absent neighbours, looking after their gardens, letting tradesmen in, etc. This brings in some useful pocket money that Partner likes to spend on our garden, new plants, fertiliser for the lawn, and such. Last year we made a decent surplus, and he suggested we take a short break in Córdoba during October. Now I’m not usually one for cities, but Córdoba is quite small and has many wonderful historical monuments, a rich local cuisine, and hotels that accept dogs. We tacked on a few days in Zuheros after Córdoba, so I could get my fix of the countryside, and set off for the Hotel Selou, located right in the middle of the city and next to some parks, very useful when you have a dog in tow!
Córdoba lies in the north of Andalucia, about two and a half hours’ drive away. It sits on the right bank of the broad and fast-flowing Rio Guadalquivir, still crossed by one of the original Roman bridges.
Continued after the jump . . .