Monthly Archives: May 2015

What Lies Beneath: The Lost City of Barcino

Gothic quarterTucked away in the teeming-with-tourists Gothic Quarter of Barcelona we followed the narrow, twisting streets, backtracked along the cobblestones and still managed to turn ourselves around looking for one branch of the Museu D’ Historia De Barcelona.  Finally, we saw a plain brown sign with an arrow pointing the way to the entrance affixed to an unobtrusive building that was, indeed, the Museum of History of Barcelona. Go figure, this marvelous museum tucked away in the oldest part of the city which is itself just jammed to the gills with gargoyles, arches and cherubim.  Could it be that the citizens of the city are a bit jaded about their own rich culture?

And here was the museum, housed in A GOTHIC PALACE built between 1497 and 1515.  Serving as the public visage of the museum, the Casa Padellás was dismantled and moved, stone by stone, from its original location in order to preserve it during the construction for the International Exposition of 1929.Museum of HIstory of Barcelona - the exit to the Gothic quarter

However, while the new site in the Gothic Quarter near the Placa Del Rei (King’s Plaza) was being readied the ruins of the original city of Barcino were discovered, one of the largest Roman settlements ever found. The archeological importance of the site was immediately understood and the palace was placed upon pillars to allow for the excavation and preservation of the ruins.  In 1943 the Casa Padellás became the headquarters for Barcelona’s Museum of History with the excavated city of Barcino lying beneath it

FYI

We stepped inside the museum and paid for our tickets (with one of us getting the geezer discount) then spent a moment to figure out how to change the audio tour handheld recorders to English.  After thumbing through the introductory pamphlets we viewed a video then took the elevator down two levels … and took a giant step back in time.  From this point we would slowly but inexorably climb back up to the street level and in the process pass through this incredible time capsule.Museum of HIstory of Barcelona - public walkway and portions of walls

Beneath the Placa del Rei the immense subsoil museum (4,000 square meters) is devoted to the archeological history of the original city and its people and contains the remains of the fortress walls, homes, workshops and religious structures. Excavated between 1930 and 1960 and painstakingly conserved in this underground site, the timeline covers the period from the creation of the original Roman city to the establishment of the religious structures in the sixth century, a rather imposing sweep of time in one setting.

Museum of HIstory of Barcelona - rubble in fill of wallThe story and the tour began with the founding of the Roman city of Barcino between 15– 10 BC under the reign of Emperor Augustus. It was a colony for soldiers who had completed their obligations to the empire, their families and slaves.  Built at a defensive location on the top of a hill it was fortified by a stone wall with the city laid out in a grid pattern as was the Roman preference. As we gazed around at the stone walls, walkways and columns before us we noticed that, surprisingly, the Romans recycled stones, tiles, pottery and other rubble as fill inside the walls as they expanded the city’s perimeter;  little or nothing was wasted. In that respect, a rather thrifty and industrious group of folks.

walkway  with entrance to shop

entrance to shops

Walkway between shops

walkway between shops

aqueduct

aqueduct

Outside the homes of both the wealthy and the humble the city swirled around them as a place of social engagement and commerce but it also contained the minutiae that’s part of day-to-day living.  Although women lacked a political voice they did possess legal rights; they could buy and sell property and they were very visible in the life of the city. The city streets passed by numerous shops run by Roman citizens and one of the first excavations that we came upon was a public laundry. The clothes were washed and bleached in large round vats with ashes, lime and ammonia mixed with water. After the laundry was done the water would be washed down a drain and flow into an aqueduct which carried it outside the city to maintain sanitation. And the source of the ammonia?  (We loved this interesting little tidbit!)  In the streets, containers were assigned for urine collection from the public at large, which, when mixed with lime, resulted in an ammonia solution that was used during the laundering.

vat in garum factory

vat in garum factory

Also on display was a shop for processing garum, a fermented fish sauce used as a condiment atop all sorts of dishes and beloved by Romans.  The mechanics were a bit messy but the fish (and leftover parts too) and shellfish were smashed, mashed, pulverized and marinated in large vats, macerated in salt and left to rot or be cured and then sold commercially.  According to the lore, the smell was so rank during the fermenting that the citizens weren’t allowed to make it in their own homes – hence the shops.   Definitely an acquired taste!

maceration tanks for garum

maceration tanks for garum

In one section of the ruins were public baths for both men and women:  hot water baths (caldarium), warm water baths (tepidarium) and cold water baths (frigidarium) which were intended to be used in succession. Massages were offered and then as now, the masses and aristocrats were concerned with their appearances.  Cosmetics and unguents and creams to moisturize or hide the signs of aging and whiten the skin were available.  Linseed was applied to shine the nails and a mix of honey and oats polished the teeth while laurel leaves could be chewed to freshen breath.

cold water pool, part of the public baths

cold water pool, part of the public baths

And what’s a society without its intoxicants?   The Romans were egalitarian in the use of wine and, regardless of class, wine was served along with bread and salt at every meal. Structures of a wine making facility were found in the ruins along with vats for fermentation, a wine-press and even a wine cellar.  The wine was produced in great quantities and, while considered an unimpressive, inexpensive wine, it was suitable for export and became a staple in the western Mediterranean.

wine factory with vats remnants

wine factory with holes for vats

Christian carving

Christian carving

Towards the end of our tour, well into our third hour of roaming the walkways and as our energy began flagging we came upon the ruins of a 4th century residence of an early bishop of the Christian Church.  As the Roman Empire declined the new religion of Christianity gained in popularity until, by the fourth century, Christianity was Barcino’s official religion as well as entwined in its political life.  Evidence of a small necropolis exists and there’s a display of several pieces of sarcophagi decorated with Christian motifs, some originating from Rome.  Additional renovations in the sixth century changed the bishop’s residence into a grander palace, added a new church and show a religion gaining in influence, power and wealth.  Lastly we admired the remains of intricate tiled mosaic floors and the remnants of some of the remarkable paintings that decorated the ceiling of the baptistery and walls of the episcopal hall.

mosaid tiles from Episcopal palace

mosaic tiles from Christian palace

It was rather disorienting to climb out of our subterranean time capsule and surface into the 21st century sunshine.   Maybe what was more unreal was that we emerged in the midst of Barcelona’s Gothic quarter, another chapter of architecture, artistry, religion and history.  What a magnificent city!

By Richard and Anita

Cruise Virgins: Voyage to Spain

At this advanced stage in life it’s terribly embarrassing to admit to fellow travelers that we are, in fact, Cruise Virgins. We’d never seriously given the notion of “cruising” any real thought. Not for us … or so we thought until we found we could travel from Miami to Barcelona, Spain on an eleven night cruise for less than the cost of airline tickets, PLUS a balcony stateroom, PLUS meals and then we said, “Sign us up! We are ready, ready, ready to lose our virginity.”

Goodbye Miami!

Goodbye Miami, USA !

This particular ship, The Norwegian Epic, was a repositioning cruise on its last trans-Atlantic voyage from Miami to Barcelona, Spain;  its new incarnation would be sailing through the Mediterranean. The fifteen balcony room aboard the Norwegian Epicdecks contained a maximum capacity of 4,200 passengers but on this trip there were (just!) over 3,100 onboard, with an average age of 59 years. (It was rather nice to blend in.) The eleven-hundred crew members worked diligently to make sure our time aboard was a pleasurable experience.  The major pastimes of the guests appeared to be eating, sunbathing (in rather chilly temps on the upper deck) and gambling although there were evening shows with a hypnotist, comedians, musical acts and karaoke for those so inclined. There were art auctions, meet and greets for the singles on board and Friends of Bill W. and Friends of Dorothy gatherings.  And, of course, outrageously priced booze for the thirsty ship passengers.  However, the star of the show was the F-O-O-D: well prepared, varied and plentiful.  The buffet and food bars were extensive and overflowing. Pushing back from the table, to our consternation, became a major preoccupation.the Atlantic

Since this was our maiden voyage on a modern floating hotel/casino we were comforted by the fact that the ocean – an impossibly deep, dark impenetrable blue – was relatively flat so there was no upset to our overworked stomachs in the area of sea-sickness. At worst, the swells were eight to ten feet so pitch was relatively mild. The constant thrum of the diesel-electric engines underfoot was a bit disconcerting but soon lapsed into one of those background events of which one is only subliminally conscious.Funchal

We had only one port of call to intrude upon our days at sea and, early on the ninth day the island of Madeira, Portugal, began to slip past us on the port side.  Shortly after 6:00 AM bright klieg lights shone through our Silvestreopen balcony windows from the pier dispelling any future notions of sleep. Having purchased our shuttle passes the day before to take us into the downtown area of the capital city, Funchal, we tagged up with Joe, a fellow traveler from Cincinnati and decided to hire a taxi.  Our mojo was good because the first driver we approached, Silvestre, spoke beautiful English and offered his taxi service, a lovingly tended Mercedes-Benz 220D, at a reasonable rate. We discussed the options and sights we wanted to see, struck a deal and grabbed some Euros from an ATM.  (Note – ATMs are ubiquitous and much cheaper to use compared to the usurious exchange rates charged by the cruise ships.)  Overview of island

And a further aside about the present economy of the island which is based primarily on tourism. In an average year over 360 cruise ships will dock in Madeira and disgorge their passengers who, like us, will descend on the place in mobs to eat, drink, buy souvenirs, and take the quaint tram-way to the botanical gardens and see the island’s other sights. A whopping 70% of the euros generated in the economy come from the guests who flock to this magnificent speck of land. The remaining mainstays of the economy are from produce which is cultivated in the coastal areas and ranching in the highlands around the smaller villages. Fishing provides food for local consumption. terraces

Funchal (a Portuguese name for a fennel plantation) and the island of Madeira were first established around 1452 and the fertile lands in the coastal and upland areas provided the impetus for future settlements. It’s a small island but a handful of hours is insufficient to see all it has to offer from its numerous historic churches, museums and markets to the scenic vistas and countryside reached through roads winding their way through the hills. Actually, the entire island was scenic and the wow factor was high. (Of course, now we have to admit that we’re Europe Virgins too!) The homes were immaculately painted, yards and vegetation trimmed. The hillsides above and below the road ways were stacked with terraced fields which had been under cultivation for centuries; testament to the longevity of the settlement.  Life on this island looked to be slow-paced and comfortable.Camara de Lobos

One of our stops was at Camara de Lobos, a small fishing village where fishing boats had been pulled out of the water in the late morning and cleaned, filleted fish hung in the sun to dry.  Aside from its antiquity and quaint factor its claim to fame was that after the Second World War, Winston Churchill visited to sketch and paint the harbor. A café in his honor still operates near the wharf. The village also houses the church of Saint Santiago, a deceptively small and modest structure from the outside with beautifully painted plank ceilings and a gilded altar to admire upon your entry.Cabo Girao - highest cliff in Europe

Climbing away from the water we topped out at Cabo Girao and the overlook upon the highest cliff in Europe. Past the cliff the small village from which we had just departed could be seen. The entire sweep of that corner of the island came into view with thin gossamer clouds streaked in the sky, contrasting and merging with the ocean from which it rose. Traveling a bit further we stopped at the view-point of Pico dos Barcelos for another vista. We were not alone as buses, taxis and cars lined the parking lots and the tourists, most likely from our cruise ship, waited to get their photos of the not to be replicated panoramas.basket rides at Monte

tobaggan basketSince we’d hired our very comfortable ride in the Mercedes and a knowledgeable driver we decided not to take the gondola cable cars up to Monte, a parish a few kilometers east of Funchal and famous for its botanical gardens as well as the option to make one’s return to Funchal in the 19th century basket sledges.  The baskets are attached to skis and were adopted as a quick way to take the townsfolk of Monte down the winding mountain roads to the city.  They’re guided by two runners, dressed in white and wearing the typical hats known as straw boaters.

The Church of Our Lady of Monte, built in 1741 and rebuilt after an earthquake in 1818, was reached by a climb up many stairs.  Although a beautiful church, what made it stand out for us was that it is the final resting place of Emperor Charles I of Austria, the last of the Hapsburg rulers who died on the island of Madeira in exile after the dissolution of the great empire following WWI.The Church of Our Lady of Monte

We discovered that our short time on terra firma was fast evaporating.  Reluctantly we headed down the mountain toward the harbor where we were deposited at the gangway to our ship.  After a quick parting photo of our chauffeur and his Mercedes, we again embarked on our voyage having glimpsed but a fraction of the phenomenal island of Madeira.

"Pride of Madeira"

“Pride of Madeira”

By Richard and Anita

 

The Journey, Not the Destination and “Never Go Back”

in the campo  - trip to Cabarete - common hazzardThe Dominican Republic has three kinds of roads:  paved and smooth, once paved but now potholed and, the third, thinkin’ ‘bout pavement.  The first roads, double-lane and as nice or better than our highways back in the in the campo  - trip to Cabarete - toll road feesStates, are toll roads, distanced every 50 kilometers or so, with three to five little manned (or womanned) booths with the motorized arms that block further access until the toll is paid. We kept the smaller DOP (Dominican Pesos) bills and change in the console of the car for the frequent stops and the fare averaged about one-hundred pesos ($2 USD) depending on the direction.  Signs marking turnoffs and destinations were usually posted right at the turn to the desired road which resulted in the person with the best far-sighted vision playing spotter so that the driver could prepare his racing reflexes to make the correct turn.  Many times, however, we saw the sign too late, sailed by the turn and would have to double back…

Our drive from our temporary home base in Punta Cana followed the shoreline west towards Santo Domingo and proceeded smoothly on the toll road. We turned onto the second kind of road, “the once paved but now potholed” per our directions and headed more or less northwest towards the toll road to the “Amber Coast,” so named because of the huge amber deposits found in the north coast area.  The road lured us along unaware until … our teeth slammed together, our heads hit the roof of the car and our behinds thumped back into our seats. There were occasional grinding scrapes with the bottom of the car dragging as we crept from shallow hole to patched hole to gaping hole to speed bumps.  And this was still a well-traveled secondary road in the DR!

However, there’s something to be said about leaving the toll highway and slowing down along the bad stretches of secondary road.  We drove through small dusty villages seemingly out in the middle of nowhere scattered between farms and fields.  Many appeared fairly “prosperous” by rural standards, cement homes alongside the road with people sitting on the front porches, flowering bushes and neatly tended dirt yards. in the campo - trip to Cabarete

Further back off the road, houses were scattered between the trees with freshly washed laundry drying on fences or lines with surprisingly little litter to be seen.  But other places were scarcely in the campo - trip to Cabaretemore than shanty towns with shacks of rusting walls and roofs of corrugated metal.  We drove through groupings of sad and desperate hovels where the garbage, plastic bottles and trash had been mounded high alongside the dwellings that lined the road.  We could not avoid seeing the scenes of bleak poverty and decay; people here and there sitting under whatever shade could protect them from the glaring relentless sun overhead.Boca de Yuma - the drive

We referred to this bumpy, rutted roadway as the “Cement Factory Road” for the one industry we saw upon that route and we made a decision to avoid it on our return trip. Eventually we hooked up with the major interior toll road of the DR and drove through countryside rich and lush, beautiful and picturesque: the properties of the wealthy. Living fences of small trees interspersed with wire or intricate walls of carefully piled stones mined from the rocky fields enclosed herds of grazing cows and great horned bulls, horses with foals, goats and kids and the occasional pig.

living fence -wire strung between small, growing trees

living fence

We passed farms of papaya, sugarcane, rice fields and plowed land with mounds of rocks scattered and dug out and cleared for future crops.  Rolling hills, palm trees, beautifully shaped, canopied trees and trees topped with huge orange flowers were silhouetted against the blue sky, all contributing to the beauty of the setting.in the campo - trip to Cabarete

Near the city of Nagua on the northern coast the road opened up to the brilliant and varying shades of blue sea along which we drove for miles watching both gentle waves lapping the seaweed strewn wild beaches and waves crashing into rocky shores of uplifted and long dead coral formations. Back again to the “once paved but now pot holed” roads we made our way through urban Nagua slowly; small businesses perched on the road edge behind parked cars on both sides that frequently necked  the traffic down to one lane at time.  Streets angled out of the narrow main road with more stores and houses, scooters wove their way through the inevitable traffic jams and, everywhere, drivers laid on their horns. It was your typical traffic bedlam.

Cabarete beach

We spent three days exploring the tourist attractions in the popular beach towns of Sosua and Cabarete and then embarked upon our homeward journey to Punta Cana.  The map promised us a road that we hadn’t driven on the western side of Sosua which looked to be a feeder road to the major toll roads. Our selection may have been the correct route, but it turned out to be the third kind of road, the “thinkin’ ‘bout paving” variety. We jounced and bounced past small family farms and homes where people sat in the shade visiting with each other and (probably) commenting on the occasional idiot tourists with their cars scraping along the graveled, potholed, washboarded road.  After about a mile of this abuse and surrounded by a cloud of dust we stopped for directions.  Our elected guide was a grinning fellow, shirtless and washing his car with lackadaisical energy, swigging beer from a long neck bottle.  He pointed down the rutted road and said about an hour more that way would take us to the toll road headed south, explaining that the road was bumpy and slow but that it was better to continue on and saying like a drunken mantra, “Never go back.”  We mulled these dubious directions over and, after some discussion, decided to turn back anyway and take the known road.  And as we passed him, our guide’s look was confused as he gestured again down the road and shouted,”But it’s that way.  Never go back!”in the campo  - trip to Cabarete - bad stretch of road

By Anita and Richard

 

 

 

Three Road Trips: Three Vignettes in the DR

Okay.  So this first little snapshot isn’t quite the epic road trip we had in mind but it did involve us piling into the little white Kia rental we shared with our friends early on a Saturday afternoon and driving across the touristic sprawl of Punta Cana.  We’d heard there was a parade near the airport named the Carnival Punta Cana. The timing of the event struck us as a bit curious since it was well past Mardi Gras and into the Lenten period when simple living and abstinence are usually observed.  But as guests of the Dominican Republic, who were we to challenge their collective wisdom or rationale? After driving to the event and casting covetous eyes about for a parking spot (no, not on the sidewalk like a few of the bozos we saw!) we drove on and on and, finally, found one on the shoulder of the road not too, too far from the event.

Our feelings exactly!

Our feelings exactly!

Arriving at the parade route we quickly came to the conclusion that this event was another commercial extravaganza gratis of the dreaded All Inclusive Resorts. All the shaded seating areas seemed to be the exclusive domains of the aforementioned rascals and, yep, colored wrist bands were indeed the price of admission for the day.  By then we’d walked quite a ways, so back we plodded past the merry tents serving frothy libations behind barricades that prohibited us from simply crossing the street, to the parade entrance.  We crossed over to the free side of the street which of course was in full sun, found an open spot along the barricades with the potential for some afternoon shade and hunkered down to protect our viewing rights and enjoy the parade.

The festivities themselves were a strange amalgam of young women, many children and several depictions of disproportionally buxom females.  Interspersed were stylized demons in colorful, elaborate costumes designed to strike fear into the hearts of the young or whimsy into the heads of the inebriated; both of which were in abundance that afternoon. We admired the extravagant costumes parading by and noticed that many of the participants in the parade were representatives of the Caribbean Island Nations.  All was well until the Haitian contingent paced by us with an intriguing voodoo float and suddenly there were boos, rude catcalls and objects flying.  Peace was quickly restored and later we learned that, for many reasons good and bad, there is no love lost between the side-by-side neighbors, Haitian and Dominican, who share the island of Hispaniola.Carnival in Punta Cana

A few days later we took a rather nerve rattling drive through the provincial capital of Higüey several miles into the interior to visit the Basílica Catedral Nuestra Señora de la Altagracia, which could more simply be said as the “Church of Altagracia.”  Driving in Dominican city traffic is not for the faint of heart, which amply supplies the reason that neither of us was piloting our rental car. That onerous duty we left to our friend Bryce, an aspiring, derring-do, wanna-be Dominican driver. Our quest for the day was buried in the heart of the city and our relieved group exited the vehicle in the near empty parking lot. One of the most famous cathedrals in the country, this modern Basilica was begun in 1954 and competed in 1970.Basilica de la Altagracia

Designed by two French architects, it is a mixture of the sublime and the mundane: towering arches, massive stained glass windows and a jewel-encrusted framed painting of the Madonna of Altagracia as well as the designation as a Basilica in 1970 by Pope Paul VI anchor its upside. But the church structure itself is not regal, it is more compact and angular than the traditional churches and the unadorned, gray cement walls are the dominant theme within the sanctuary.La Basilica de la Altagracia

However, the quiet of the interior, with light streaming through the multitude of stained glass windows and the glow radiating back from the highly polished mahogany  pews, pulpit and the Madonna’s repository with suspended, foot-long, carved leaves encircling it, suffused the air with a tranquility, broken only by our superfluous guide’s uninspired soliloquy.

Ready for more adventure, but heartily relieved that we were still passengers in our rental, we set off again several days later and found ourselves on the eastern side of the Parque Nacional del Este, alongside the Caribbean Sea near Boca de Yuma, a stretch of rugged coast and coral reef that has been lifted by geologic forces from the ocean floor to become an island land form. The iron shore is stunningly beautiful with its ragged imperfections, numerous waterspouts and the quaint village of Boca del Yuma.  Boca de Yuma

Friends had recommended a restaurant, El Arpunero (The Harpoon) which sits regally atop the cliffs, open-aired so that the sea breezes flow in; a palm-leafed, thatched roof shades the whole dining area.  Immediately adjacent to the restaurant is a swimming hole, totally contained within a punch bowl of the old sea bed. It has a sandy beach but also outcroppings of coral rock; the water level fluctuates with the tidal action fed through a hole in the rocks which form the outer rim of the bowl. Boca de Yuma

Following one of the best meals we’ve had since we’ve been in the DR (langustinos or jumbo prawns and tempura battered shell-fish) and after a little dreamy fantasizing about owning a home in the area, we took a quick hike around the nearby cave, Cueva de Berna, a large cavern with openings blocked off behind warning signs and, unfortunately, graffiti marring many areas.  We returned back to the restaurant, cooled off in its filtered saltwater pool, did a bit of basking in the sun while enjoyed a cold libation as well as a few quick hands of Gin Rummy.

Road trips, short and long are entertaining past-times to get briefly acquainted with several of the various locales in any given area. Nothing is in-depth, but all of it is a slice of the life of the country. When added up, these dribs and drabs can fill in puzzle pieces forming a more complete portrait of a complex nation.  Speaking of which, there’s another road trip that we could fill you in on …in the campo  - trip to Cabarete

By Richard and Anita