Who wants to go through all the trouble of securing a UK visa for a day trip to the Rock of Gibraltar? In my home country, a UK visa is as rare as a visa for the US, and costs quite a lot. A day in the Rock of Gibraltar does not do justice to the nearly US$100 we paid for the visa to enter this UK colony.
The Rock
The Rock is a crown property of United Kingdom in the southern coast of Spain. This limestone promontory juts out into the Strait of Gibraltar and on a clear day, one can enjoy a glimpse of Northern Africa across the Strait . History claims that the area was named after a former slave Tariq who led an army guarding the Rock. Natives thus called the rock Jabal Tariq, which meant Tariq’s mount. Through the years, Jabal Tariq assumed the name Gibraltar. It is interesting to mention that before Columbus discovered America, Gibraltar was thought to be the end of the earth. In fact, the Spanish town Tarifa actually means end of something in Arabic. It was thought then that if one were to go beyond Tarifa, one would fall over the edge of the earth!
With its extended tunnel system or underground passages, the site proved to be a keystone in defending the area against the Germans during World War II. Such military significance inspired the saying “solid as the rock of Gibraltar” . In fact, Prudential Financial uses the Rock as its logo to signify how solid the company is!
Hell Lady Driver from Gibraltar
With 40%!o(MISSING)f the land area classified as nature preserve, there was very little area and very little to do within the Rock. We took a taxi driven by a 67 year old hell of a driver grandmother cum tourist guide. Cost us 20 euros to zigzag our way up to the highest point . Right on this site, we found the “Two Pillars of Hercules” . The myth went that one of the pillars rests on the Rock , while the second pillar rests on the African side.
We visited one of the hundred caves that can be found in this peninsula . The most famous are St. Michael’s Cave and Gorham’s cave. The stalactites are really no different from the usual, and we found ourselves out of the cave soon enough , only to find that the place at the mouth of the cave is littered with monkeys. My apologies, but I was never a big fan of monkeys. Especially the unruly kind. One even got comfortable sitting on the head of one of the elderly ladies. There were so many we felt crowded out. So we decided to take the cab down and simply check out the shops. Just an hour and a half strolling around, and that was it for our adventure on this rock fortress. If we had a chance to stay a couple more days here, I am almost sure we’d run out of things to do. So there. Been there, done that.
The weekend seemed promising as we planned to spend it in a beachfront hotel in Fuengirola in the Costa del Sol area. There was time enough too to visit Mijas, a quaint little town with whitewashed houses, cobble-stoned paths, and donkey or buro carts. Looking at pictures from Mijas, I swear one can easily mistake them for shots of Santorini with its whitewashed stone houses and blue-painted doors. Plus, from what we hear, the shopping is good too!
But I am really getting ahead of my story…………
It was an ordeal having to wake up early today to visit Alhambra Palace before driving out of Granada towards Costa del Sol. If you care to have a good 8hour sleep, make sure you don’t spend Semana Santa in dear Espana. I have no problems with our accommodations in Granada. It was a big mistake though to open the windows and enjoy the breeze last night, when all seemed quiet and tranquil. The commotion outside in the streets below our open windows drew me out of a deep slumber. When I woke up, I couldn’t even think if I were home in Manila, or in Madrid, Toledo or Granada. Granada it was, and it was only 2:30 in the morning. As the shuffle of passing feet and lighted candles finally dawned on me, I simply said my prayers as this religious procession passed and turned the corner from our hotel. The mild shock was hard to shake off, so I struggled to catch a few more winks before our tour of Alhambra Palace early this morning.
Alhambra and the Cathedral of Malaga
Our local guide, Antonio, looked like your average retired professor of history in university. He rattled off dates and other details relating to Alhambra Palace , a former Moorish royal residence . Alhambra dominates the skyline and has 2 parts : the Alcazaba (fortress) and the Palacio de Nazaries. Nasrid Granada, being one of the richest cities in Medieval Europe, certainly showed off their wealth in this magnificent palace. History dates Muslim conquest as early as 711 A.D., until they were expelled after ruling for well over 700 years. As Antonio explained, Granada was the last Muslim stronghold which was finally recaptured during the reign of Fernando and Isabella, the royal Catholic monarchs of Castilla and Aragon, two of the four major provinces of Spain. Antonio did not fail to point out to us the original concept of airconditioning where antique plumbing drew water to flow around and through the Palace to “cool” it , how tiled walls and intricate wood carvings obviously bear Moorish elements, and how the Moorish monarchs may have enjoyed the Generalife Gardens right beside the palace.
In the afternoon, we passed by the famous Cathedral of Malaga where “pasos” bearing the statues of Christ and Mother Mary were being readied for the procession. (Let’s hope this time, it won’t pass our hotel at 2:30am). We did not stay very long here and just had enough time to check out the Cathedral and view the Palace atop a hill . Which was fine, as we longed to reach our hotel in Fuengirola. Our room in Hotel Pyramides offered a beachfront view in this golf club resort town. Many of the guests were tanned to the bones either from sunbathing or from playing too much golf. The hotel served good food and our spacious room even had an anteroom! My friend Emy promptly checked out the nearby supermercado and bought a few hundred grams of Jamon Iberico de Jabugo (to die for, take my word for it) and Quezo Manchego (from sheep, love it!). Not bad. And all that ham and cheese went with Sangria too. Oh, such a lovely day! But not for long………our very big room looks out to the bars and nightclubs by the beach, with all that disco music blaring without let up till 5 a.m. My, these Spanish teens and yuppies surely know how to live it up. And it was a Thursday night!
Day Trip to Mijas
We woke up late the following morning. After all that disco music, who cared to wake up early? Not wasting time, we checked the maps and bus routes and slipped out of the hotel to take the bus from Fuengirola to Mijas. This quaint little town did not disappoint. We had our very own little Santorini minus the beach and the caldera. Touts for donkey rides were hard to shake off, but we managed to stroll around the little town on our own and enjoyed it immensely. I bought an ottoman footstool, a leather backpack, Spanish fans, even a flamenco dress for my grandniece! Oh, I can’t wait to see her in this red and white polka-dotted dress with its tiered skirt. The flamenco dress for the 4 year old went with a pair of castanets too! Now, tell me which doting grandmom could resist that?
By the time we were done with our shopping , we were really ready for our lunch. We feasted on frituras (flour coated and fried seafood such as squid, fish, shrimps) , paella, grilled swordfish and that cold very Spanish soup called Gazpacho. I liked everything else, but I wasn’t a big fan of cold soups. So there……..
On our way back to our hotel, we thought there was time enough for a stroll at the beach. So, soon after we dumped our stuff, we headed for the beach. There were not too many people around. We wondered why. We were almost back at the hotel when we finally discovered why. It’s siesta time!
Just a short, comfortable one hour drive from Madrid to reach this impressive city of 3 cultures. I have to admit that I had my expectations of Toledo, having seen too many paintings of the Spanish city. Yet, I was still awed by its sheer beauty. This place shouldn’t be missed, and should be in everybody’s list to visit after Madrid. Through many narrow alleyways, we passed many houses with Moorish balconies. These ‘extensions’ served as ‘peek out’ places for Muslim women staying indoors and preferring not to be seen. I can just imagine them sneaking a look into the vibrant street scene in Toledo’s narrow alleyways while fiddling with their worry beads.
The mixture of artistic styles speaks volumes on how Arabs, Christians and Jews once lived together in this former imperial capital. Much like the mixed settlements found in the walled city of Old Jerusalem ( check out my earlier blog: When Every Prayer Bead Counts in Israel). The maze of streets make up this city bound by walls and accessed through various gates. We entered through the main gate, the Bisagra Gate, and passed a number of synagogues, mosques and churches. The highlight of my trip to Toledo is easily the Church of Santo Tome , made famous by El Greco’s painting “El Entierro del Conde Orgaz” which translates to “The Burial of Count Orgaz”. By itself, this painting makes the trip to Toledo truly worthwhile. To this day, I can still imagine the many shades of black in this painting. El Greco is truly a genius. The sheer white organza over the black garment showed his genius to the fore. One can almost feel how thin and gossamer the organza fabric was. So with the lacy cloth adorning the necks of those depicted in the scene. El Greco lived out his sunset years in Toledo and truly paid homage to his second home as he immortalized the now famous vista of the entire township, the skyline dominated by the Alcazar and the Toledo Cathedral, and the many winding alleys and cobble-stoned pathways of this place so rich in history and steeped in culture.
Mudejar Style In Art and Architecture
All around the historic city, there is the mozarab (Christians who lived under the Muslim rule) and mudejar styles expressed in the art and architecture.
The arches, ornately designed windows , and other architectural elements envelop you as you walk their streets. While viewing Toledo’s famous cathedral, we saw many tourists shunted to the sides as cars weaved through the very narrow streets of this former capital of La Mancha, now declared a heritage site. (That is the 3rd time I used the word narrow). While waiting for the cars to pass, it was easy to get tempted to get inside some of the quaint looking stores selling mazapan and turrones. And so we allowed ourselves to be tempted and then and there, decided to leave space in our bags before flying home to load up on these goodies. While munching our new finds back into the square, we paused to take in the cathedral with its very flamboyant Gothic architecture. The doorway, with its 3 doors, depicted features of hell, forgiveness and judgment. It was reported that there was a time when indulgences were granted to penitents passing through the door of forgiveness or pardon. These days, it is almost always closed except for very special occasions.
A Hero’s Sorrow
On a hill to the right of the Cathedral isthe Alcazar, the military citadel. A most interesting story has been attached to this monument of art and heroism. The Siege of Alcazar recounts the heroism and supreme sacrifice in the name of patriotic duty of General Jose Moscardo Ituarte back in 1936. For 70 days, Moscardo held out for General Franco’s Nationalist forces and defended the citadel. The Republicans then captured Moscardo’s 16 year old son, Luis, and threatened to shoot him unless Moscardo cedes the citadel. Asking to speak to his son, Moscardo said “Commend yourself to God and die like a patriot” to which his teenage son replied “That, I can do”. Truly, Luis is his father’s son. Moscardo lost his son and up to his final days, wore a black cloak of mourning over his army uniform. The drama and the tragedy are now integral to any story relating to the cathedral.
Long after we left Toledo, we can’t help wondering if the religious tolerance accounted for the very diverse character of this heritage site. Imagine the very Gothic Toledo Cathedral with Mudejar characteristics (claimed to be the 3rd largest in the world), or houses lining the alleys with their Moorish balcony extensions over your heads as you pass, as well as imagining the interfaith harmony as Arabs, Jews and Christians all established their settlements here in this place where their respective arts and culture were allowed to flourish and blossom. The peace and harmony fostered by this religious tolerance may have encouraged many Arab, Jewish and Christian scholars to settle in Toledo and hone their crafts. Just like the Pax Romana where art and culture flourished, here is another example that indeed, “Peace Pays” .
Oh yes, it has been all of 12 years since I made that memorable 38 day trip to Europe visiting Greece, Bulgaria, Romania, Turkey, Egypt and Israel. I found my 1996 journal, so that helps. But memories started flooding my mind of a time when I snagged my longest-ever leave of absence from work, risked losing my job in the bank, or at very least fall out of favor from the bank’s owners. None of that happened. Now living a semi-retired life, I plan to break up this long journey into several blogs to chronicle how much fun one can get in their early 40’s!
Athens
First off, GREECE. We left Manila for Athens with a single stopover in Singapore. It was a long wait for our connecting flight, but Changi Airport is one airport worth a stopover. It was also a good opportunity to chat up with my traveling group, all 20 of us Filipinos. There was a whole family of businessmen, a retired General with his young 2nd wife and the 2nd wife’s only daughter from a previous marriage, a young college graduate traveling alone to enjoy his graduation prize, a couple of retirees who now
run a successful business, another family with 2 teenage son and daughter, a pair of college professors in an exclusive convent school, and a middle-aged single mom with her high energy, hyper son with a German sounding name.
The airport in Athens was a disappointment. We may have landed in Europe, but at the time, we felt like we needed to get on another flight to reach Europe. Coming from the Third World, and having saved up real good for this trip, I guess we all had high expectations. But no, our trip does not start and end with the airport, so we managed to look forward to the coming days.
Our hotel in Athens has a good location. Having dropped our bags, we hit the road and strode off to take in the main artery of the city. We found the National Museum where we spent the whole afternoon, walked around a small park, tried out some curio shops, and tired ourselves enough before getting back to the hotel to meet with our Globus Tour director and other travel companions. Our big Filipino travel group was joined by an assortment of other
Plaka 1996
nationalities. Mostly from America, Australia , Canada, plus a Chinese matron traveling alone. We were advised by our Tour Director that we still have a full day in Athens tomorrow, before leaving the city to check out the rest of Greece. After dinner, we all decided to call it a night and conserve our energy for this long holiday.
The following day 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 building 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
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. I silently wished a second visit is made possible where these structures still remain. I also made another prayer that I continue to enjoy good health to be able to sustain my penchant for these adventures. 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 yesterday, while sipping a cup of coffee in the Museum cafe, 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
The next day, we woke up early for breakfast. Hmmm, olives this early in the day. Well, this is Greece! After
breakfast, we boarded our coach for the long trip to Meteora. We motored north, past the Plain of Marathon………where in 490 BC (or so my travel journal circa 1996 states….) about 10,000 Athenians defeated more than twice that number of Persian invaders. All throughout the bus ride, our Tour Director spewed out many historical trivia which we all tried to listen to, while fighting off sleep. He mentioned the Spartans, a revenge for Marathon, a place called Drama, but don’t ask me to put them together in a story. Talk about talking Greek! But then again, isn’t it amazing how these Greek words found their way into our everyday language?
With absolutely no idea what Meteora offers, I was completely bowled over when we reached the place. Rock-top monasteries. This unreal, fantastic landscape even has good stories to tell. We visited 2 monasteries: Varlaam Monastery and St. Stephen’s. Oh sure, one is guaranteed a panoramic view of this surreal landscape. One story went that in the olden times, the monks who had to climb up the monasteries may instead get into this basket strung with a rope which the monks up in the monastery had to pull up. While the monks ‘up there’ pull the rope to bring the monk in the basket up, the latter literally prays every step of the way as he puts his complete trust on his fellow monks to keep him whole and alive. Good thing we did not have to get into any basket , as there are now access roads leading to the monasteries atop the rocks. Up there, the ladies in our group were asked to don skirts before entering the monasteries. In both, we were so impressed with the collection of medieval icons found inside . Then one of the guys in our group mentioned that this monastery and this entire place was actually the setting for one of the James Bond movies. I think “For Your Eyes Only” is the movie title, where a helicopter goes around the top of the rock monastery, affording the viewer a glimpse of the panoramic vista of Meteora. Now, I remember!
We stayed the night in Kalambaka, the town next to Meteora. The hotel was a disappointment. Very damp. Very spartan. I thought then that the guests probably never bothered with the place as most are out for the day to spend visiting the rock monasteries. Well, I shouldn’t really complain. I got enough excitement for today.
Thessalonika
From Meteora, we drove north to Thessalonika. This is the second largest city in Greece, and probably one of the oldest. Along the way, we visited the Royal Burial Ground of Vergina. This is where King Philip II’s tomb was identified by archaelogists after many years of excavations and research. Our Tour director reminded us that the continued wars between Athens and Sparta weakened both, and allowed the emergence of the Kingdom of Macedonia. We went past Pella, the ancient Macedonian capital where Aristotle taught the young Alexander the Great.
Finally, we reached Thessalonika. We entered the Archaelogical Museum where one learns more about Ancient Macedonia, the nation which made Greek culture its own, and spread it as far as Egypt and India. The orientation drive also took us along the sea front and to the Roman Arch of Galerius. We spent a night in Thessalonika before making our journey to Bulgaria, Romania and Turkey. But these 3 will be covered by separate blogs. So let me continue with our adventure upon
re-entering Greece (from Istanbul). Our re-entry was through the Sea of Marmara into the Greek part of what was once the Roman province of Thrace. Here, mosques and minarets testify to a long history of Ottoman domination. We retraced the journey of St. Paul along the Via Egnatia as we entered Philippi. Good thing I wrote a journal of my adventures here……….I would not have remembered all these names. Tonight, we stayed in a hotel in Kavala, a Macedonian crossroad town called Neapolis by the Romans and Christopolisby the Christian crusaders.
Delphi, Then Back to Athens
Before heading back to Athens, we stopped by Delphi. Following the shoreline of the Aegean Sea, we passed by a landscape dominated by Mount Olympus, the mythical home of Zeus. We broke the journey here, and rested our tired limbs. The following morning, we toured the ancient sanctuary of the god Apollo on the slopes of Mount Parnassus. The Oracle of Delphi! We checked out the excavations, as well as the Archaelogical Museum. We particularly admired the Charioteer, an extra-ordinary 5th century BC bronze statue. I like Delphi. The winding roads and the quaint curio shops near our boutique
Echo? Was that just an echo?hotel make for a very romantic scene. I tried hard to think if the place was used for any movie setting, but nothing came to mind. Somehow, this scenario sets you up and puts you in a shopping mood. But I am happy with my purchase of a jewelry set in Delphi. The ‘eternity ring, earrings and necklace’ in gold looked like a good investment. I was looking at another set, but remembered this is just the first leg of my trip. So I pulled myself out of the store and headed back for our hotel.
I wore my new matching necklace and ring this morning on our way back to Athens where we plan to spend about 2 more nights before the second leg of our journey. With time in our hands, and with the hotel shuttle leaving every so often to take us to the Plaka, we found ourselves shopping again. An enterprising Greek found me and invited me to his store where he offered ouzo. Now, no one takes ouzo lightly. It’s a very Greek drink, like vodka is to the Russians. This Greek made us all sit down, enjoy our ouzo, then promptly displayed some of his jewelries for sale. He showed me a gold bracelet that was an exact match to the earrings, ring and necklace I was already wearing. And I thought I am long done with my shopping! So, as every lady shopper would say, ” I deserve this” and took out my card to pay for the bracelet. Oh…..I can hear the soundtrack of Zorba, the Greek in the background. The Greeks sure play beautiful music.
To cap our Greek adventure, we spent the day before our departure on a day-long cruise of 3 nearby islands. Aegena, Hydra and Poros were tiny islands, but big on sights. The Temple of Apollo was not limited to the big cities. There were excavations and temple ruins here too. I like my photo in one of the islands where a donkey is “parked” somewhere behind me. This spectacle adds flavor to our Greek adventure. There were also more jewelry shops in all 3 islands but I was too afraid to enter any. Instead, I drank more ouzo and listened to Zorba’s music.
In 2009, I revisited Greece and blogged about my adventures in Meteora, Santorini, Rhodes, Crete, Mykonos , Patmos and Athens. Check out my blog on one of my favorites: Revisiting Meteora
Has anyone been to Bulgaria? Well, our traveling group didn’t cover much ground in Bulgaria but what I remember about this trip is how well we started it. Coming from more than a week’s travel around Greece, we drove from Thessalonika towards Bulgaria. Our introduction to Bulgaria was a visit to the impressive, awesome Rila Monastery. The pictures do not do justice to the lovely sights of Rila Monastery. Do please remember that I was then still using a non-digital camera. Just point and shoot, no reviews permitted. If one gets a double exposure, tough luck.
The Monastery of St. John of Rila
I am not into antiquities. I am not even a collector of anything. I never formed any attachment to material things and a piece of art for me, is really something best preserved and safekept in a museum. At best, I will forever keep a good photo of the place I visited to serve my memory right. It was very cold when we got to Rila Monastery. As in snowy cold. Must be about 3 inches of snow. Which added to the mystery of the place. There were not too many tourists. I’d say there was just our group , which is kind of big at over 30 pax, and perhaps a couple of small groups. I hardly knew where to start.
RILA Monastery
The Monastery of St. John of Rila is the most famous, if not the largest, Eastern Orthodox monastery in the whole of Bulgaria. This UNESCO World heritage site is a monument to faith, culture and architecture. Some writings cite St. John of Rila as having founded the monastery in the 10th century. Others say he lived in a cave not far from the monastery, and that his remains were safekept in the monastery. (Story goes that St. John or St. Ivan to the Bulgarians, couldn’t put up with the moral decline prevalent during his time, that he chose to live like a hermit in a cave dwelling. Now, if all of us are of the same character as St. John of Rila, I bet this world will run out of caves……..) Whatever, this complex is certainly worth a visit even if one were to skip all other sights in Bulgaria . It is not much to look at from the outside. The front wall looked even bleak.
Alexander Nevsky Cathedral
But as one enters, you will be in awe and marvel at the sights with the high snow-capped mountains as backdrop. One goes through the church entrance and allow one’s self to be enthralled by all the frescoes, the icons, the mosaics which all add to the spirituality within the monastic grounds. This place is Bulgaria’s own renaissance. Now, I wish we could have spent more time here in Rila. But we were told this is just a stopover on our drive towards Sofia. A very pleasant stopover, indeed. Perhaps, next visit we should arrange staying at least a night in the monastery itself. Now, that would really require another visit!
From Rila to Sofia, the Capital of Bulgaria
But hold it………..from Rila, we drove towards the nation’s capital. It was very dark by the time we reached the capital. Hotel Intercontinental provided us with a very pleasant overnight stay. The hotel complex is huge, in stark contrast to the poverty around it. It was hard to enjoy a good meal in the rooftop restaurant and ignore the dilapidated one storey residential dwelling of Sofia’s urban poor. Nor to enjoy the many lanesof the bowling alleys in the basement of Hotel Intercontinental. Perhaps it was constructed as such, if only to discourage hotel guests from venturing out of the hotel compound and risk getting mugged. I wandered around the shops within the hotel complex and felt happy with the single purchase I made. A new cardigan! After dinner and a soak in the tub, I was ready to count sheep.
Sofia is very cosmopolitan. Truly a nation’s cultural, political and commercial capital. The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral with its golden dome is very lovely to look at. My untrained eye soaked in all that beauty while my fellow travelers got busy checking out the many stalls by the cathedral’s side. I can’t blame them. The hand-embroidered table linens and lacy materials were hard to resist. My roommate on this tour, Marylou, ended up with a bundle of table linens. I thought then that she must have a huge dining table. We also checked out Turkish Bashi Mosque, and admired the ancient Church of St. Georgi. There was also an impressive looking Opera and a few concert halls in the city. I thought then how difficult it must be to listen to the opera while one’s stomach is grumbling. My apologies, but it was hard to ignore the contrasts and the gap between the rich and the poor in Sofia. This is not new to me. I see it everyday back home in my own country. Very sad. On that sad note , I missed the opera tonight and had another good night’s sleep instead. Tomorrow, we move towards Bucharest, Romania!
(I have revisited many countries but not Romania. Not sure if I’d ever have a chance to do another trip here. Meanwhile, I’m reposting my 1996 journal here as I’ve learned Travel Blog site where I posted my blog now risks a shutdown.)
On the bus on way to Romania, we swapped horror stories. Sensing the mood, our Globus Tour Director promptly reminded us of the story of Count Dracula. Not the Hollywood version, but the Transylvanian version. Bran Castle in Transylvania, built in the mid 1300s, is the legendary home of the Count of Dracula.
By the time we reached Bucuresti, our hairs stood on edge and we were all ready to scream at moment’s notice. The Hotel Bucuresti fuelled the grim mood , what with its old world interiors, heavy gold and burgundy drapes, wide windows framed by yards and yards of mothball-smelling curtains. My bednight table held a lamp which must have seen better times. Or maybe, I am simply an imbecile with no appreciation of old world charm. But how do you deal with a front desk staff and concierge dressed in black plants and burgundy vests standing tall and unconcerned? We arrived middle of the night, and we were reminded to go to this hall where they would serve our dinner. The hall had bad lighthing, and the red carpet looked like it needed replacement. If some thief came to this place, I will bet my bottom dollar they cannot go very far if they snatched any of the furniture here. The lamp shade, the decor, even the hard wood table gave a feeling of heaviness just before our forgettable dinner. For the first time, I am happy for the long bus ride. Sitting many hours on the coach, I was eager to catch many winks and prep myself for the days ahead.
First off, we boarded our coach and had a city tour. Bucharest truly lives up to its monicker of “Little Paris” or Paris of the Balkans. The tree-lined boulevards, complete with its own version of the Arc de Triomphe, was reminiscent of the high life in Paris, France. We strolled along Bucharest’s oldest and very charming Calea Victoriei or Victory Avenue and passed flower-festooned parks and gardens, the Revolution Square, the National History Museum, the Royal Palace, etc. I did not know how to feel when we were brought to the exact spot where the Ceausescu couple were publicly executed. Next we went to visit the House of the Parliament or what they call as the Parliament Palace, touted as the second biggest ever building in the world next only to the Pentagon. Wow! This structure is a monstrosity. The dictator must have been carried away when he had this structure built. The Palace was built exclusively with Romanian materials and therefore is a showcase of Romanian talent for the arts and architecture. The same is true for all the furnishings inside the Palace. Don’t be surprised to be dazzled by all the talents expressed in this colossal structure. No wonder former President Nicolae Ceausescu and his wife Elena were publicly executed for excesses committed during his 24 year rule. Or should I say 24 years of his dictatorship?
Next, we went to Cotroceni Palace and Museum. This royal palace was home to former King Carol I, whose monarchy ended in the 1940’s. In 1977, then President Ceausescu converted this royal residence into a guesthouse. The Museum housed many pieces of medieval art. If you ask me, the palace architecture by itself is a museum piece. Our last stopover was at the Village Museum, an outdoor museum showcasing Romania’s rural architecture. Carefully taken apart and reassembled at the Village Museum, one would find old rural barns, peasant homes, cottages, small churches, wind and watermills, and
artisans’ workshops from all over the country. Strolling around this “village” was actually quite refreshing. We also took advantage of the leisurely afternoon to enjoy the lovely Cismigiu Gardens. Then back to the hotel to freshen up before our dinner . Tonight, we tasted a typical Romanian fare and excellent local wine, while enjoying the songs and folk dances. It was a good way to end our Romanian Adventure.
Coming to Istanbul was a very pleasant surprise. Straddling both Europe and Asia, we motored through rural landscapes to the Turkish border till we reached Turkey’s small European foothold to Istanbul. Founded by the Greeks as Byzantium more than 2,500 years ago, renamed Constantinople in the year 330 when Constantine the Great made it the capital of the Roman Empire. After the Ottoman conquest, this Byzantine city along the Bosphorous was renamed Istanbul in the 15th century. Geographically, Istanbul remains the gateway between East and West, Orient and Occident, Christian and Islamic worlds, Black Sea and the Mediterranean.
It was very cold and windy when we got here. Despite the chill, we were game enough to board a small boat and cruise the Bosphorous Canal. I still remember our Turkish guide, Ahmed. I remember some of us elected to stay below rather than on deck where one can appreciate the vista of the many minarets and palaces of Istanbul. With no exception, all of us in the group were pleasantly surprised with the beauty of this city. Cosmopolitan, yet so rich with history. Think Rome…………but with minarets.
Our hotel welcomed us with good Turkish coffee and is located in a pedestrian alley near some boutique shops. This time, I only managed to buy a cashmere blouse. I was too lazy to wash my clothes. Or maybe I found a good excuse to rationalize my behavior. But the cashmere blouse came in handy when we ventured out for dinner and a bellydancing show. We enjoyed our Turkish dinner in this restaurant meant to feed and entertain guests. It was a big hall with ramps snakings around it. After dinner, we learned what the ramps are for. When the belly dancers got on stage, they surely moved around the hall with ease to the delight of many. I certainly enjoyed our adventure tonight. Satisfied many senses.
Next day, we found ourselves in Emperor Justinian’s Haggia Sophia and Sultan Ahmet’s Blue Mosque. Standing across each other, these 2 monuments of competing faiths are marvelous creations ! How I wish we had more time to spend here and appreciate the mosaics, architecture, minarets, etc. But we had to rush to spend an afternoon in Topkapi Palace where a local guide waited to give us a tour of the palace museum. We were all stunned by the Imperial Treasury’s Spoonmaker’s Diamond. So called because the diamond is as big as a spoon! Many in the group opted to sit out the rest of the afternoon. The Palace is huge! But no one missed the tour of the Harem.
As our final stop, we were brought to the Grand Bazaar with its 4,000 tiny shops. Oh, i loved it here. Easy to get lost though, as I went to check out the spices and had to retrace my steps to join the rest of the group. From leather jackets to oriental carpets, to spices and nuts, to gold and more gold. I ended up buying a dozen of scarves. Well, I thought they were cheap. Until another one in our group joined us with the same merchandise, claiming she got it for far less. So much for our shopping adventure. Let me have some Turkish coffee!
(Been advised this blog site — Travel Blog — may soon close. So I’m transferring some of my 180++ blogs to my Lifeisacelebration site starting with this 1996 travel blog)
At the time I visited Israel in 1996, I was not a very spiritual person. Perhaps I am still not. But I know that after this visit, I came home a changed person. Still a ‘work in progress’. But one’s got to try.
I have said rosaries every now and then before, and I say them almost daily now. And this time, I ‘feel’ every passion in each rosary bead. Covering Israel is very much like saying the rosary every hour every day. The passion of Christ in each and every rosary bead is most felt in this Holy Land. Heretofore I would recite the rosary in an almost mechanical fashion. But now, I can picture the very image of each and every mystery and feel the presence of our Saviour in a most spiritual way.
Our journey started with a flight out of Athens airport bound for Tel Aviv. Despite the hassles and the ultra thorough inspections and interrogations regarding our checked-in and carry-on bags, we felt so safe flying El Al. We landed uneventfully at Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv. Soon after retrieving our bags, we were whisked to our hotel by the shore. I never realized that Tel Aviv is by the coast, so I had to review my map and couldn’t help feeling happy about our accommodations. Our hotel room has a splendid view of the Mediterranean. Almost as soon as we checked in, we jumped out of our traveling clothes and donned our shorts. We hit the beach hoping it would be deserted in this cold spring. Were we wrong. There were a lot who had the same idea, but we were lucky to find empty benches. With a book in hand, we spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach. I noticed that the people here are very very conscious of security. There was this man working in the beach who did nothing but ‘scan’ the beach with this metallic thing which I can only presume to be a bomb scanner or whatever it’s called. Every inch of the beach area is inspected, scanned, checked. That’s good. But the system was not thief-proof. A couple in our group joined us at the beach, enjoyed the breeze, very irresponsibly left a bag on the bench, admired the scenery, sat back on the bench and took sometime to realize their bag was missing. Guess what. The bag contained all their valuables……..passports, cash, credit cards, plane tickets. Why they had to bring all that stuff out on the beach , I fail to understand. And there were safety deposit boxes in the hotel! Mazeltov…………..that’s good luck in their local language. (Pray tell me, is it Jewish or Hebrew?) The poor couple had to cancel their whole trip and work on their travel papers. Our very kind Tour Director, the very Jewish David, lent them money to tide them over. Oh, what misfortune! And it is only our first day in Israel.
The next morning, we were all pleasantly surprised with the buffet spread in the hotel. It was a lovely way to start our day. I had absolutely no idea what Jewish cuisine is, but whatever I ate, I liked. There were pickled fish much like the pickled herrings I tried in Amsterdam. And they also served rice! Perhaps because Tel Aviv is a city by the coast, there were a lot of seafood……their fruits from the Mediterranean Sea! Mostly smoked or pickled, which I love. And so, on full stomachs we joined our tour group on the many fascinating sights on this Mediterranean shore. We took a walk in the beautifully restored ancient port of Jaffa. This is where medieval pilgrims started their strenuous 2 day trek to Jerusalem. We were given just a few minutes for some picture-taking before we were advised to join the bus for our ride to our next stop, Caesaria. Going north, our Tour Director David took us to Caesaria’s Roman Amphitheater and the impressive Crusader Fortress. Enough to remind us of the Roman and Crusader presence in this area. I can’t recall if Caesaria was named after Julius Caesar or Augustus Caesar, but I do recall that Pontius Pilate held court here! Or was it Herod? Oh my. Frankly, I wasn’t prepared for the Roman ruins in Israel. A Roman aqueduct? I forgot this area was part of the Roman Empire. Which speaks a lot about how ignorant I was. Neither was I prepared for the vineyards here too!There were also apricot groves on the slopes of the scenic Carmel mountain range. At Muhraqa, David reminded us of the prophet Elias’ contest of faith with the priests of Baal. Gosh, I really need to read up! David puts us to shame! You should meet David. Here is one guy who is very very proud being a Jew. Loves his job as Tour Director, but never compromises on discipline. He’s a character. You should see him nearly scream at us whenever we take far longer in any one area………… threatening to leave us behind. And he always had this pole with him, that I was almost always imagining one of us will get struck with if we test his patience too far. When we reached our hotel in Haifa, we were famished. All that walking, plus the rising temp, made us hungry. And David won’t stop for snacks. He said , “they serve good dinner in Haifa. Don’t spoil appetite”. 😊
Yes, it was a good dinner. Also enjoyed the company. By this time, we have formed ‘cliques’ within our travel group. An American Jew, Steven, joined 5 of us Filipinos and called ourselves the ‘Lalo Group’. Steven learned a few words in our language, one of which is supposed to mean a jerk. The word is ‘gago’ (jerk) but Steven would always say LALO. Over dinner, we learned that Steven has long wanted to visit Israel and meet up with long lost relatives of his mom in Jerusalem. He was traveling alone, but starting today, has found his LALO family in us.
In Haifa, we spent the next morning visiting the Bahai Shrine, the world center for the bahai faith. The golden domed shrine was the backdrop for our group picture. This was suggested by David, who said it’s better done this early than later! No one dared argue with this man. Next we went to Acre, which was the capital of the Crusader Kingdom after its conquest by Richard the Lion-Heart. We marveled at the forbidding Ottoman fortress and toured the excavated part of the immense underground Crusader City with all the secret passageways! The vaulted crypts of the Knights of St. John was quite a sight.
After lunch, we proceeded to Nazareth where we visited the Church of Annunciation and St. Joseph’s workshop. Then we went to Cana, the site of the first miracle ……… where Jesus turned water into wine in a wedding party. Then we rode up towards the Mount of Beautitudes where Jesus delivered his sermon on the Mount. Here, I found an elderly nun who looked so angelic. She didn’t speak a word of english but had a ready smile for everyone. She is certainly bursting with unexplainable joy and her kind demeanor contrasts with her hunch and slowed pace. The scenery here is one for the books…….. we savored the panoramic view over Lake Tiberius before driving down to the lakeside Kibbutz Ginosar. We were led to very spartan rooms here where we would spend the night, to freshen up before dinner. Some of the guys went for a swim before dinner. This is one working community here. Hard to believe how the kibbutz system works wonderfully for the people here. We found all the kibbutz members busy. Not an idle hand. We were served dinner which consisted of their own produce from farms worked on by the men, cooked by their own women, served by their own children. After dinner, some of us stayed on to listen to a lecture on life in a kibbutz.
Yesterday was a long day, and each one in our group must have slept soundly last night. We were all looking fresh this morning, eager for a cup of coffee and another kibbutz meal. Over breakfast, Steven expressed his excitement now that we are driving towards Jerusalem. We shared the same sentiment, knowing that Jerusalem must be the highlight of this trip. On our way, we made a stopover at the Church of the Multiplication of Loaves and Fishes in Tabgha. The second miracle! Then off to Capernaum where Jesus recruited his disciples among the fishermen. Here we also found St. Peter’s Memorial.
Just before noon, we took a boat to cruise the Sea of Galilee, and prayed our rosaries. That was one time David was truly quiet. When we finished, he said that we may not share the same beliefs but he has found a deep respect for our faith. What a wonderful thing to say. I think that ‘softened’ the man since, as he was more accommodating and less exacting after this episode. He even gave us a long time to enjoy a good lunch after the boat ride. Naturally, we took the chance to check out the restaurants by the Sea of Galilee (which is really a lake). Most eating places in this part of Israel boasts of the local delicacy – the St. Peter’s fish. I ordered one, and came face to face with a fish that looks exactly like our very own tilapia back in the Philippines. Only that, it cost me 5 times its worth here in Galilee.
After my very eventful lunch, we headed towards the River Jordan. We were reminded by the baptism of Jesus by St. John the Baptist . There were many pilgrims in the area, all lined up for their “baptism” at the River Jordan. Although it was not part of our itinerary, David allowed a couple of us to join the line. I was so moved by this, that I had to take a moment to recover. A newfound spirituality must have been born or reborn then. I cannot explain it. I just know that somehow, my take on all these has been changed. After recalling all the mysteries and miracles in the places we have visited, I felt I was having my own miracle here. By the time we reached Jerusalem, everyone in the group felt a different kind of excitement and started to consider this trip as our own pilgrimage too. The following day, our very reliable David reminded us all over breakfast to wear comfortable walking shoes. Our hotel is so ideally located, just some 10 to 15 minute walk to the Old City or Walled City. Soon, we were all following David on a stroll of the lovingly restored Jewish Quarter all the way to the Wailing Wall. I may not be Jewish, but I certainly imbibed all that spirituality along the Wall. So many have prayed here. So many have wailed, maybe asking for forgiveness or invoking their petitions. David reminded me to walk backwards after praying, the way the Jews do. I took it to mean that we must never turn our back out of respect. On Temple Mount, we found the Dome of the Rock, a splendid Islamic Mosque. From here we traced the 14 Stations of the Cross passing the Armenian Quarter, Christian Quarter , through the Via Dolorosa towards Golgotha. There, we entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Erected over the site of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, this Church, destroyed and rebuilt many times, is now shared by 6 Christian communities. David pointed to a spot where Jesus was brought down from the cross and laid. Dear God, I can’t explain all this heaviness in my heart. And I learned everybody else in our group felt the same way. Sinner and imperfect that I was, I longed for forgiveness then and there.
It was good we had to walk back to our hotel, if only to wear off the feelings of sorrow. Before dinner, we said our prayers more fervently, more seriously. Tonight before sleeping, I prayed the rosary and recalled each sorrowful mystery as if I was again walking through the Via Dolorosa, passing all the Stations of the Cross.
The following day, we boarded our bus for our excursion to Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus Christ and King David. Here we visited the Church of Nativity with its very low entrance door. David explained that it was designed as such so that those riding their donkeys had to dismount. Truly, the door is just a foot higher than a donkey. We all stooped to get in, and found a long line for the “Star” which marked the very spot where Jesus was born in the Manger.
The Star has a hole in the center where one can reach down and touch the very rock where the stable was. Those in front of me in the line were crying as they neared the Star. Now, I thought then that that was way too emotional. By the time I reached the Star, and had my hand touching the rock, I was shedding tears as well. I do not know where all that came from.
When we were done, our bus took us to the Garden of Gethsemane at the foot of Mount of Olives. The Church of All Nations stand here now, in the midst of all the olive trees that bear witness to Jesus’ Agony in the Garden. David pointed to an olive tree which was supposed to be the very spot of the first sorrowful mystery. From here, one has a good view of the Walled City and the gate by which Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.
Most of us took the optional excursion to the Synagogue of Hadassah Hospital with its famous Marc Chagall windows. The excursion also included a visit to the Shrine of the Book and the Dead Sea Scrolls, Mount Zion with King David’s tomb, and the room of the Last Supper. David pointed out that two of the pillars in the Upper Room are still originals. Silent witnesses to the Last Supper. Jesus with his 12 apostles, including Judas Iscariot. The last leg of this excursion was a visit to the Yad Zashem Holocaust Memorial. We entered this structure in a line, with Steven right in front of me. We walked through a corridor that was very dark, where one hears taped voices of Jews, old and young, agonizing over their plight. There were memorabilia all around, pictures of the holocaust, grim reminders of man’s cruelty to his own kind. By the time we got out of the Memorial, Steven was in tears , a grown man crying unashamedly. When we got on the bus, David asked if there is anyone in our group who would like to watch an Israeli folklore show. No one was up to it.
The last 2 full days in Israel was highlighted by a trip to the Dead Sea, the lowest point on the surface of the earth, and Masada. Along the way, we caught glimpses of the caves of Qumran, where the precious Dead Sea Scrolls were found. David reminded us to bring swimwear so we can check out the Dead Sea’s buoyancy owing to its extreme saltiness. This was fine, but I have to say that the next stop promised more excitement for me. Masada, the last stronghold for nearly a thousand Jewish Zealots who preferred death by their own hands to the indignity of surrender to the overwhelming Roman forces. We reached Masada by way of a cable car to the spectacular cliff fortress. At the very least, the people of Masada proved to one and all the extent of their conviction and pride as a people.
From Jerusalem, our bus drove back to Tel Aviv where we were to spend our last full day in the land of the Chosen People. We took the scenic winding road towards the Land of the Philistines. We stopped at the site where David defeated Goliath. This was followed by a visit to the Monastery of the Trappist Monks. Soon we were back in Tel Aviv, ready to explore more of the nation’s capital. We strolled through the city, did a bit of shopping (where i got a menorrah(pendant) and checked out the bands by the beach. Cool…….there was even a reggae band.
Over our farewell dinner, I felt kind of sad that I may not be seeing David, our Tour Director. We didn’t start off well on this tour, but everyone in our group agreed that David warmed up as days passed by. We made sure that we would all fill out the Globus Questionnaire and put in good words for this kind man. Yeah, a little bit dictatorial sometimes, but a very compassionate and spiritual man. Just before calling it a night, we went for another stroll by the beach , enjoyed the breeze, and silently wished for another chance to visit Israel in the future. Lastly, I prayed my rosary and held each bead like each one truly counts in this land.
Visited some touristy spots for 2 straight days, hitting ground as soon as we touched down. Then we decided to spend the next 2 days just lazing around in Marriott Vacation Club in Nusa Dua. Enough to do around the complex where shuttle vans and buggies are on standby to bring us to the beach or the shops and restaurants. Within the MVC Compound itself, there are 4 dining outlets worth checking out like Steaksmith where we had a fine steak dinner. We also love the beach bar where we drank our mojitos and Bintang beers to pair with spicy chicken satay, pork ribs and the more traditional cheese burgers for those who aren’t big fans of hot and spicy.
MVC By NightThe Main Lobby
The beach area is where we spent nearly 5 hours. We took turns with a pair of massage therapists on beach beds and chairs. There was also a shopping area near the beach so we certainly didn’t waste time. To add, bigger shops lie between the beach and the hotel so that option was likewise not wasted 😉 Spa. Shopping. Swim. Steak. Marriott does not disappoint. Our villa has a plunge pool too – perfect for dips after a sweaty afternoon.
Beach Pica PicaCheers! Nusa Dua Beach
And just a few meters from our door is the steak house where we had a wonderful tomahawk dinner. A welcome break from all the Balinese meals we’ve had. Enough nasi goreng, nasi camphor, bebek, ayam goreng, spicy pork ribs etc that we feasted on non-stop since we arrived. It remains to be seen if we’d have Babi Guling (roast pig) for our last dinner here. Or perhaps seafood in Jimbaran. There’s still time (🤭) but let’s see. The options are many.
It was brief. Two weeks from Barcelona to Pamplona to Saint Jean Pied de Port to Lourdes to Paris. We ate the freshest seafood in Barcelona, feasted on pintxos and met with family in Pamplona, walked the camino from Saint Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles, trained into Lourdes and finally reached Paris. We left Paris just as the riots broke out following Paris Saint-Germain’s victory in the Champions’ League. Should have been a grand celebration of the football club’s victory but on the eve of our departure, we sensed the danger as some metro lines stopped working and the metros grew crowded with noisy, rowdy, alcohol-fed youngsters cheering loudly and even jumping on their feet inside the metro coaches.
Arc de Triomphe. Before the riots.
We reached our hotel after several underground transfers owing to some metro lines being shut off. The crowd was growing thick by 8pm and we were tired after a whole day of walking and sightseeing. One of us is visiting Paris for the first time and we wanted it to be a meaningful experience for him. Crammed Tour Eiffel, Arc de Triomphe, Moulin Rouge, Sacre Ceour in Montmartre, Pantheon, Louvre, Tuileries, Champ Elysees, Jardin de Luxembourg, Latin Quarter, Saint Germain des Pres etc in just a few days. We even spent an entire day in Versailles where we luckily snagged a table for lunch in Angelina Maison Fondee. On our last whole day in Paris, we joined an “Emily in Paris” Tour. Reminded me of those Dan Brown tours made popular in Paris (Da Vinci Code 2006) and Rome (Angels and Demons 2009). Those were nearly 20 years ago! I remember reading and re-reading the books and I even watched the movie adaptations!
Jardin de Luxembourg
Paris has changed. No offense meant, but I long for the “old” Paris. Way too many tourists now, dog poop everywhere and by and large, too much trash. That is NOT to say I don’t love it now. Just that I loved it more in earlier days. It just feels quite different not feeling so safe as I did in those late nights in Paris some years back. I kept my own sentiments to myself and allowed my grandson to enjoy Paris this first visit. I am sure he’d want to go back. So with my niece who is visiting a second time. Her first time was likewise with me but that one was even a shorter visit so there wasn’t much she enjoyed then. And then there’s Barcelona and Pamplona. Still grand, and the early evening spent at the beach was truly a welcome respite from the tourist crowd. The dining scene was also superb and since the city of Barcelona was our first stop, we readily and greedily dug our fingers into some favorite pintxos and paellas. Being summery, the tinto de verano became a favorite thirst-quencher. So with cava.
Hard to say which is the highlight of our tour. Barcelona and Paris would always rank high up there. But family time in Pamplona is a game-changer. The spiritual breaks in Saint Jean Pied de Port and Lourdeshold a special place and its meaning far deeper and beyond this trip. We packed a lot in this 2-week trip. Our eyes, bellies, hearts and souls are nourished. Hopefully we can do this again. But in a slower pace. This grandma ain’t no spring chicken no more. Still good for the camino and some sightseeing, but more rest days are in order. I’m still catching my breath!
lifeisacelebration 