Category: Europe



Another photowalk till my legs ached. Calling it quits for the day, I took the same path towards our hotel for the week. 🚶Along the way, I stopped by the Islas de Filipinas and Madrid’s equivalent of our Rizal Park. ⛲There are similar parks for the other countries which centuries before were colonies of Spain.🇪🇸

 

 

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Inside the park, there is a joggers’ path 👣👟🏃and a bike lane.🚲 Several benches were scattered inside the park where the center has been developed into a golf range.⛳ In one corner, there was even a cervezaria. 🍺The classier version of our beer garden. 🍻

 

 

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At the corner is the monument to our national hero, flanked by two tablets of Dr. Jose Rizal’s Mi Ultimo Adios and its Filipino translation.📝 Imagine that! Dear Spain had this man, our national hero, wiped off the face of the earth yet built this monument in his memory.

 

 

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I may not speak Spanish but somehow feel unintimidated by this somewhat familiar language. I couldn’t resist eavesdropping whenever and wherever I am, catching a few understandable words but get stumped not being able to figure out the whole deal.

 

 

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I downloaded this Spanish Talk Pad and thought it was a most clever thing to do. Ha! Ha! And another Ha! The easy part is when you are able to express yourself, with or without the Talk Pad, either with a question or a statement. The hard part is getting a response and not understanding it. Duh 😦

 

 

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Like getting directions. Easy enough to begin with “Donde……” and getting confused with the isquierda (left) and derecha (right!) directions. These are words which found their way into our local language….. but somehow the meanings got crossed or lost.

 

 

So, imagine us Indios hunting for an apartment in Madrid. With all the Internet research on available flats within our budget, picking up that phone to dial the number and inquire is an ordeal. ☎ You see, hand gestures don’t work over the telephone. Yay, what to do?

 

 

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We prayed for an angel. We found one. Through a friend, we met this Pinay working as a waitress in an Italian Resto who speaks Spanish fluently. What’s more, she just happens to be on a one-week leave. For 3 days, she made telephone calls, scheduled the visits, and accompanied us inspecting the apartments. She even negotiated in our behalf. We “followed” her negotiations through the familiar uno-dos-tres numbers we Pinoys have grown used to. Thank God!

 

 

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This morning, we finally found the flat we wanted. Not exactly in the price range we wanted for its size, but we drew comfort in the friendliness of the porter and admin staff and the location. Move-in set this March 5. We’re “squatters” in Doyee’s flat 2 floors down while Mayette’s own flat is not yet ready for occupancy. Time to do our laundry too. Having concluded the deal, I passed one bar and decided to have my regular brew. No hot chocolate this time. Nor cafe con leche. Too much milk there. Had cafe cortado instead —- more coffee than milk. ☕ My usual. And a cinnamon roll. Then, back to my hotel for some siesta. The next few days would be devoted to some serious IKEA shopping.

 

 

Hasta luego! I’d get busy with the laundry.

 

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Day 2 in Madrid. No jet lag. Perfect weather. A tad cloudy but not so cold. Hotel wifi sucks. Books to read. Need a perfect spot somewhere quiet. But not before a good stroll cum exercise around Plaza Mayor.

 

 

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Kilometro O….. No Tio Pepe signage in sight. Instead,  I found mimes and Disney characters within the Puerta del Sol.

 

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Walking along Calle Mayor, I smiled when I spotted Museo de Jamon as I remembered a lunch here with my nephew and dear friends some 10 years ago. Also, searching and finding Chocolateria de San Gines  brings cheer. Churros con chocolate never fails!

 

 

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Another discovery off Calle Mayor is Mercado de San Miguel. (Soon my fav place here in Madrid) This place was teeming with Señors y Señoras having their late lunch here. Food porn to the max. Had lunch on my feet as I moved from stall to stall! Ohhh, those croquettes were sooooo delicious!

 

 

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Finding my way back to Plaza Mayor, I took photos and videos of lovely Spanish children with their kindergarten teachers. How delightful to just watch them laughing and pushing each other!

 

 

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From Sol, I took the Metro to pass the remainder of the afternoon and early evening in Retiro Park. Found a bench where I read my book with music provided by these street artists.

 

 

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What a 2nd day well-spent! Back in the hotel, I reviewed the photos and was pleasantly surprised (and envious?) to find a lovely gay couple in this photo. Not intentional. But there. Don’t you love it?

 

 

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The last time I was here was back in 2002. To this day, I still remember the chocolate con churros we had at the famous Chocolateria de San Gines. Having resolved that this is where my first Desayuno in Spain will be, my Day 2 in Madrid got me up and out of the hotel by 8:30am.

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But first things first. I dropped in on a nearby Iglesia. 💒Guess what, I ended up staying for the 9am mass. Lovely way to start the day. Seated on the last pew, I was startled as a young boy sidled up to me and made guttural sounds. Turns out he was there by himself, and that he didn’t mean any harm. Just being playful. Like any other boy. 👼 Just the same, I moved up to the front pew after communion. Found this old man and another young boy — maybe aged 5 or 6 — seated in front of me. Found it so touching to see this caring boy prompting his grandpa to stand, sit or kneel during the mass. These scenes touched me so.🙏

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So, on a happy note and on this cloudy day, ☁I began my journey to the center of Madrid. The blue line took me from Rios Rosas Station to SOL.🚃🚉 Kilometro 0 to be exact. I tried searching for the Tio Pepe signage but found none. Must be on that building now under renovation. I steeled myself from going to the El Corte Ingles 👢👗👜department store and instead walked along Calle Mayor in search of Plaza Mayor.

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Back on Calle Mayor, I passed Museo De Jamon🍴 (my beloved pig!) and turned too many corners in search of Iglesia de San Gines. I was lost! Rested on a bench somewhere where I took this lovely shot of a white cross in a small plaza just off a corner store with a “fancy name”.

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Though lost, I’ve got to say I had no worries. Everything looked familiar. Perhaps because we got lost too back in 2002. My, this chocolate con churros makes a determined glutton out of me.☕ Soon, I found the chocolateria just off the Iglesia de San Gines. Having existed since 1894, I wonder if any of our national heroes have tried breakfast here too.

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For €3.70, you get a cuppa of hot, sticky chocolate and 6 pieces of churros to die for! I felt guilty leaving a couple of pieces and wished I had company. Four pieces of churros in one sitting is a lot for me. So I decided to “get lost” some more to deal with all the extra glucose and starch. Aaaaaaah, HAPPINESS. 😄😍😱

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Just before this journey into cuchinillo country, we took time to visit Cebu. Land of Lechon and Chicharon. I still have my backblogs on our visits to Boljoon, Dalaguete, Carcar and Simala, but these would have to give way to my first journal on our flight out of Manila into this land of cuchinillo, tapas, flamenco y abanicos. ✈

 

 

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Still reeling from my hypertensive moments post-Cebu, I promised myself I’d stay away from my beloved pig. On February 22 we took our 11:40pm Emirates flight into Madrid via Dubai. All of 15 hours combined or so, plus 3 hours waiting in Dubai for the connecting flight. The 2 flights each served 2 meals which I happily munched through 4 in-flight movies. Didn’t even get the chance to read my book. Had a few winks, only to wake up and agonize over whether to have the Arabic Mezze or the Deli platter. And that’s only for breakfast!

 

 

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Dubai airport is truly grandiose but lacks the character I found in Singapore’s Changi or Hongkong Airport. Perhaps I missed a few interesting corners, so I vowed to give it a second review on my homeward journey. As for Madrid’s Barajas Airport, it looks like any other as we breezed through immigration and got out in this bitter cold weather at 12:30pm! Immediately, I felt justified squeezing in my fleece vest into my 10 kilo trolley bag.

 

 

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By the time we reached our NH Breton Hotel in the Chamartin area, I was lusting for a quick shower and jumping into my bed. The hotel is centrally located. Just off the corner is a bus stop and the Metro. Right in front of the hotel is a fruit store and beside it, a 24 hour convenience store. I promptly bought 4 big bottles of mineral water, a dozen oranges, bread, cold cuts, yogurt and vegetable salad. And some lip balm and skin cream too. My chapped lips and dry skin need some TLC after only a few hours out in the cold.

 

 

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Having freshened up, I did a quick round up for a late afternoon walk and check-see of the metro station and nearby dining places. I was pleased to find that Rios Rosas Metro Station is just a short walk from the hotel. I took mental note of the Blue and Red Lines which will take me to the Sol and Retiro Stations. Also of the food outlets serving Desayuno (breakfast of churros con chocolate or cafe con leche) for only €2. This is way better than the €12 breakfasts available in the hotel! On lazy mornings, I can even make my own sandwich with the bread, cold cuts and vegetable salad I bought.

 

 

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Self-Served Breakfasts!

 

 

All things looking up. Except one very important thing. Internet. Enjoyed the free 30minute wifi, only to be prompted to buy at €8.85 per day for unli-surfing. I made full use of the free wifi in the hotel. Refusing to pay the €8.85 daily Internet rate (who are they kidding?), I find it uncool to pay €80 for a room with no free wifi.

 

 

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I am NOT cranky yet. I have my books. But these Internet withdrawal symptoms are getting in the way. Woke up early at 5am. Looked out the window from our hotel room. By 7:30am, it was still dark. Sunlight came at 8am. I downed 4 naranjas in one sitting just to shake off the blues. Got to find a coffee shop with free wifi. Tried 2, but no luck. The waitress said they don’t share the password with paying diners. And this is Madrid in the heart of Europe! Ooooops. There goes the temper. Gawd, I need another shower.

 

 

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View From Our Hotel Window


I have visited Greece twice but I missed the famous islands the first time around.  Just the same, that first visit got me all worked up in anticipation of the historical landmarks to be found in Athens, Delphi , Mycenea, Thessalonika.  The first time around, the highlights of my trip were decidedly Athens and Meteora.  The second time around,  the highlights were the islands of Santorini, Rhodes, Patmos and Crete.   Mykonos?  Well, yeah, it is one party island much like our Boracay (with windmills painted blue and white) but it pales in culture and aesthetics compared to the other islands.

Acropolis

There  is a day for the capital’s classical sights.  The Parthenon atop the Acropolis.  Straight out of a history book,  here I am staring at the crowning glory of all of Greece.  Ancient civilization.  The Erechtheum with its Port of Maidens. The beautifully preserved Theseum, Roman Temple of Zeus, Theater of Dionysus and the Agora where Socrates taught. Vistas of the Royal Palace and various buildings in the city contrast with the remains of a glorious past.  I was so hyped the whole morning. Knowing these colossal structures stood long before the birth of Jesus!  The books available at the Museum have photos of the remaining buildings with transparent overlay showing how the buildings must have looked before.  Amazing.  The Statue of Athena stood tall in the transparencies.  You just have to give it to the Greeks for giving birth to this civilization.  No wonder their tourism industry is flourishing.  Some inheritance they got!  In a way, I was afraid some of the structures may not  last long enough for future generations. At the time, I silently wished a second visit is made possible where these structures still remain. (Wish granted. Amen )  I also made another prayer that I continue to enjoy good health to be able to sustain my penchant for these adventures. (Another answered prayer. Amen)  Looking around,  I found quite a number of senior tourists experiencing difficulties scaling the steps.   Some gave up and started their descent.  A pity.  The highlight of the Parthenon visit lies at the top,  with the added bonus of a panoramic view of the sprawling metropolis. I remember sipping a cup of coffee in the Museum cafe, seeing how majestic the Acropolis looked from afar.  It is a no-brainer that the early Greeks set up the seat of their government on top of this mountain.  There was no way any army can attack from any side without being watched!

Meteora Rocks!


And then, there’s Meteora.  Oh, how I adore this place.  One can’t help communing with Nature in this open air museum.   Monasteries atop the rocks!  I cannot even imagine how those monks built these convents and monasteries atop these rocks.  Nor how the monks were put in cage-like nets to be pulled by fellow-monks atop the rocks to reach the monasteries.  I remember the first time I visited I stayed overnight in the nearby town of Kalambaka .  On a free afternoon,  I strolled around the town to find many friendly Greek men and women, always ready to offer you tea or if you’re lucky, ouzo.   Now ouzo is the equivalent of our “lambanog” in the provinces.  And much like the local folks back home,  the people here seem ready to pick up a conversation and idle the rest of the afternoon away, while nibbling on olives!

Not much has changed the second time I visited Meteora.  Yet, those stairs we scaled going up a number of monasteries seem more steep now.  That is the difference 13 years make!  Same vision,  weaker knees. Same enthusiasm,  not the same energy.  This discovery thus compels me never to stop making adventures while you still can.   It’s my personal mantra.  I dare you to prove me wrong! (Note: the last 2 photos are not mine.  My rusty P&S won’t do justice to the awesome views in Metereora. )

Sequel would be on the islands of Greece.  Soon………….

More photos to be found here:

No Senior Moments, I remember Greece 1996

Revisiting Meteora

Europe: Then And Now


Back in 1986,  I traveled to Europe for the first time. Alone.  At the time, I was still smoking and it was sheer torture to be in flight or around airports and train stations all of 21 hours.  Every chance I got, I filled my lungs with nicotine like it was the last stick I’d smoke.  I read the instructions over and over, matching them with the signages I passed, hoping I’d find my way to Bradford, England without a hitch.

 

 

The London stopover ended with my safe landing in Heathrow airport.  From there,  I took the train for Bradford.  Not an hour or two to check out the London sights  That had to wait for much later. I was expected for dinner somewhere within the halls of Bradford University.  From the tropics,  I had my first taste of snow when I got out of the train station in Bradford.  I wanted to run and throw my first snowball.  That had to wait too.  At the time, I was simply too eager to get inside Charles Morris Hall and sit by the fire to warm my fingers which were threatening to freeze.   As I “thawed”,  I met my new friends from Saudi Arabia, Italy, Finland, Brazil, Ethiopia, Burma, Solomon Islands, Iran, Nigeria, Sudan,  Poland, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Cyprus.  I have lost touch with all of them.  Hopefully, with this blog I can find some with greying hair but with the same smiles I still fondly remember.  These friends introduced me to varied flavors of the Orient, African, Middle East and Western cuisine:  from the Indian tandoori to the Italian pasta (back then, I only knew the spaghetti with meatballs), to Sudanese cabbage with rice stuffing yummy dish, to Brazilian beans and more beans!  Oh my,  too much beans.  Where are you guys?  Zeze, Raoul,  Rebecca, Lita,  Salik, etc.

 

 

I nearly cried when I saw Buckingham Palace.  I saw Big Ben at sunrise and sunset with coffee in a paper cup ,  seated on a bench somewhere. Always, I would be found reviewing a map.  I would imagine  myself taking the “Tube” as Londoners call their subway,  and visiting the popular London sights.  I also imagined which subways to take to go to the West End to watch Les Miserables and how to find my way back to our hotel.  When I crossed the English channel to go to Paris for the first time,  I was dripping with excitement.  Eiffel Tower was not really much to see the first time i saw it.  I was more awed by the Champ Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe.  By the time I reached Italy,  I could hardly sleep ……… spending my nights planning on how the next day would be spent.  There was just so much to see and so much food to try. I was young then,  and my taste buds were still waiting to discover new cuisine. I can relate to Peter Mayle’s first adventure with  French food.  Even freshly baked bread was new to me then.  I discovered wine and cheese for the first time too.  I even learned which wine glass is for what……..a far cry from those days when my wine glass was good for any wine, red or white , sparkling or not.  More than that,  I discovered what life is all about.  I turned many pages since then.  And my life, as a book,  now counts many chapters and sequels.

 

 

I visited the same sights over and over again. I worked, and worked hard. I saved, and saved good.  I traveled,  and savored every minute.   Through the years I have taken pictures of some favorite sights and found how they now compare.  I will throw in more recent pictures here from time to time , if only to lay down a better comparison between then and now.  The unwanted pounds. The unwelcome lines.  But who cares?

 

Check out the photos and see for yourself.

 

[Read also my TravelBlog site.  ]