The early bird is said to catch the worms as is proven this morning. Entry to the Mezquita is free every morning between 8:30am and 9:30am. Organised groups are prohibited before 10am meaning that, without the incessant rambling of tour guides, my visit is quieter and more atmospheric. The Alhambra should take note!!
Córdoba's gigantic mosque is a wonderful architectural mish-mash of delights with delicate horseshoe arches making it unlike anywhere I have seen on my journey. Due to Córdoba's turbulent history, the gigantic Mezquita is uniquely part mosque and part cathedral. It has to be the only place in the World where you can worship Mass in a mosque. Sadly the Vatican did not consent to Muslims being allowed to worship in the Mezquita again.
With my head full of historical and religious stories, I jump on my motorbike to have some time to try to make sense of it all. I retrace my route to Sevilla and continue westwards to Portugal...
The road snakes its way through the gently folded uplands of the northern Huelva province. The largely rural landscape is the perfect backdrop for my mood. Gnarly oak trees, foraging (and soon to be legless) pigs, iconic Spanish bulls dusting themselves in the golden brown earth. What a beautiful place :)
Now I am fully aware that this is a long way to come for, what is essentially, a ham sandwich but Aracena is where Colin told me to stop to try the region's celebrated jamón ibérico, otherwise known as Iberian or Jabugo ham.
As I roll into town, Rincón de Juan catches my eye. It is standing room only in this wedge-shaped, stone-walled corner bar. A guy at the bar tells me that the best way to eat the ham is in one's fingers with a glass of sherry. I demolish the lot. The ham is sweet, rich and nutty, with a seductive creamy fat. The flavour is spectacular. I find it utterly addictive.
Passing over the border is as easy as crossing the road - no customs, no guards, no checks at all. Just derelict border posts with boarded-up windows. Somehow, though, the scenery knows to change as it becomes much flatter. I am now crossing the Alentejo plain, which is dotted with walled fortress towns and imposing hill-top castles.
I arrive in Évora, a beautifully preserved medieval town and decide to stop riding for the day. A quick pitstop in my residence for the evening, a former holiday home of a 16th-century count, and I am on the tourist trail...
Inside the walls, I wander along Évora's narrow, winding lanes and find the Aqueduto da Água de Prata (Aqueduct of Silver Water) is protruding into the town. It has been bringing clean water into the town since 1530. An impressive feat of engineering!
As my stomach tells me it is feeding time, I look at my clock to see it is 9pm - it appears my stomach has quickly adjusted to the Spanish lifestyle :) I head to the town's focal point of Praça do Giraldo. It is only then, looking at the clock in the main square, that I notice the time difference. The clock says 8pm; my clock, still on Spanish time, reads 9pm. For reasons I still have not fathomed, Spain is on Central European Time, Portugal in step with GMT. Still, with a belly full of the tasty Arroz de Pato (duck risotto) and Super Bock, I no longer care :D
Córdoba's gigantic mosque is a wonderful architectural mish-mash of delights with delicate horseshoe arches making it unlike anywhere I have seen on my journey. Due to Córdoba's turbulent history, the gigantic Mezquita is uniquely part mosque and part cathedral. It has to be the only place in the World where you can worship Mass in a mosque. Sadly the Vatican did not consent to Muslims being allowed to worship in the Mezquita again.
With my head full of historical and religious stories, I jump on my motorbike to have some time to try to make sense of it all. I retrace my route to Sevilla and continue westwards to Portugal...
The road snakes its way through the gently folded uplands of the northern Huelva province. The largely rural landscape is the perfect backdrop for my mood. Gnarly oak trees, foraging (and soon to be legless) pigs, iconic Spanish bulls dusting themselves in the golden brown earth. What a beautiful place :)
Now I am fully aware that this is a long way to come for, what is essentially, a ham sandwich but Aracena is where Colin told me to stop to try the region's celebrated jamón ibérico, otherwise known as Iberian or Jabugo ham.
As I roll into town, Rincón de Juan catches my eye. It is standing room only in this wedge-shaped, stone-walled corner bar. A guy at the bar tells me that the best way to eat the ham is in one's fingers with a glass of sherry. I demolish the lot. The ham is sweet, rich and nutty, with a seductive creamy fat. The flavour is spectacular. I find it utterly addictive.
Passing over the border is as easy as crossing the road - no customs, no guards, no checks at all. Just derelict border posts with boarded-up windows. Somehow, though, the scenery knows to change as it becomes much flatter. I am now crossing the Alentejo plain, which is dotted with walled fortress towns and imposing hill-top castles.
I arrive in Évora, a beautifully preserved medieval town and decide to stop riding for the day. A quick pitstop in my residence for the evening, a former holiday home of a 16th-century count, and I am on the tourist trail...
Inside the walls, I wander along Évora's narrow, winding lanes and find the Aqueduto da Água de Prata (Aqueduct of Silver Water) is protruding into the town. It has been bringing clean water into the town since 1530. An impressive feat of engineering!
As my stomach tells me it is feeding time, I look at my clock to see it is 9pm - it appears my stomach has quickly adjusted to the Spanish lifestyle :) I head to the town's focal point of Praça do Giraldo. It is only then, looking at the clock in the main square, that I notice the time difference. The clock says 8pm; my clock, still on Spanish time, reads 9pm. For reasons I still have not fathomed, Spain is on Central European Time, Portugal in step with GMT. Still, with a belly full of the tasty Arroz de Pato (duck risotto) and Super Bock, I no longer care :D
No comments:
Post a Comment