It’s tradition on Corpus Christi Sunday in Spain for young girls to dress in long white dresses and participate in a procession of the host (Corpus Christi) through the town. … Read more
I’ve seen perhaps six or seven corridas (bullfights) in my life. Most of those were in the late 70s in Madrid and Barcelona…back when Barcelona had corridas. We saw some good ones, and some bad ones. We saw some brave bulls and toreros, and we saw other days when the bulls and toreros seemed to be running away from, rather than toward, each other.
Arches in the Alcázar de Sevilla. The Alcázar was the original Moorish palace of Sevilla, which was remodeled over the centuries by various Christian kings. Hence the mixture of the … Read more
At the Feria de Abril in Sevilla, Spain, new bullfighter Ramón López, in his first fight in a major ring, did a great job and was rewarded by the crowd … Read more
Three Andalusian girls before the bullfights at the Feria de Abril. Sevilla, Spain, April 2012. The Feria de Abril, or April Fair, in Sevilla is one of the great festivals … Read more
Every poker table is a little different. I’ve played in Chile, Ecuador, Australia, and now in Spain. I’m used to playing in Las Vegas, where the tables sometimes get a … Read more
On the Lunes de Pascua. Easter Monday, many people of Valencia, Spain, dress in traditional finery and parade through the city streets to the cathedral. These three were waiting their … Read more
When Kris and I lived in Madrid thirty-two years ago we worked at a language school that was about eight blocks from our apartment. One of the routes we often took to work took us past a nondescript building with two large oak doors and a small sign beside one of them which identified it as a convent. (Here’s the Google map.)
The same sign offered tours during limited hours, but in all the time we lived here, and in our many subsequent visits to Madrid, we never got around to seeing what was inside the Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales. We remedied that this time.
Madrileños, unlike most denizens of big cities, are genuinely friendly and eager to talk about their city, Spain, and almost anything else you want to discuss. Our first night here, we had a discussion about journalism and its position as a profession in Spanish society over beers and a plate of olives at an outdoor cafe in the Plaza Mayor with a young man named José Angel. José Angel’s girlfriend is a journalist and he’s a carpenter, so he allowed as there was some friction with her parents over his “station” in life. I assured him that their positions would probably be reversed if he came to the United States and he’d be welcome to visit us anytime the in-laws got to be too much.