The Agora is probably the most striking of five structures by Santiago Calatrava for Valencia’s City of Arts and Sciences. Photos by George Lockwood.
Antequera
Over the years, my husband, George, and I have managed to “infiltrate”
our share of European realms, but our hearts have most often been lured
back to España, home of flamenco, bullfighting, Picasso, Miró
and Gaudí, the Alhambra, The Prado, pueblos blancos (white villages), paella,
gazpacho -- and more kinds of mouthwatering fish than you could count
on a máquina de calcular.
Heading north from Málaga, we’ve often passed a lone mountain shaped
like George Washington’s head (nose up). We were told it’s called Peña
de Enamorados (Pain of the Lovers, aka Lovers’ Leap). Not far away is
the city of Antequera. On our last trip, we decided it was time to
explore the town, a mere 27 miles north of Málaga and easily reached via
Spanish superhighways.
As in many European cities, finding one’s way is a 50/50 process --
half skill and half luck, with emphasis on the latter. But we
eventually found an underground parking garage.
Antequera’s ornate Estepa Gate adds interest to the landscape just across from the bullring.
Like most of Andalusia, Antequera was long in the hands of the Moors,
whom I learned in high school Spanish class, were finally expelled in
1492 by those infamous rulers and supporters of Christopher Columbus,
Ferdinand and Isabella. Antequera itself was “rescued” in 1410 by the
Infante Don Fernando (Prince Ferdinand), he of the street name but
unrelated to Isabella’s spouse.
Above ground, on the Plaza Castilla and across from the bullring, we discovered the tragic lovers memorialized in stone. As we learned later, theirs was a
Romeo-and-Juliet story, skewed to a Christian/Muslim elucidation.
Forbidden to marry by their family, the lovers took the fabled way of
leaving this mortal coil.
Armed with a good street map from the eager-to-help garage
attendant, we set off for the tourist bureau, at No. 7 Calle de
Encarnación (an important address to remember); a very good starting
point in any historic city laid out before perpendicular grids became
the norm.
It wasn’t long before we understood why Antequera is known as a city of
churches. In fact, it’s said to have the highest concentration of
churches in any Spanish city -- 22, including convent-related iglesias,
in a population of 40,000. During a 20-minute walk along the
thoroughfare Infante Don Fernando, we passed four of these grand
edifices. We soon learned about many of the others after boarding a
quaint 12-seat tourist jitney on the Square of San Sebastian, whose
tower rises above most, if not all, others.
In a single day, it was impossible to absorb the gorgeous interiors of all
the churches – or any of the spectacular Renaissance and Baroque
palaces, including that of the Marquis de la Peña de los Enamorados.
Since our pre-visit reading had focused on the most notable churches, we
determined to take a stab at seeing as many as possible. Between walking
and the four-hour jitney tour (intersticed by a lunch stop), we managed to
see at least the outsides of 15 and spend time in three, each beautiful
in its own way.
This altar is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, surrounded by angels.
    
Iglesia de Belén (Church of Bethlehem), Calle Belén, northeast of the
city center and near the Granada Gate.
For its ornate, super-decorative
special altars, this edifice takes first prize among the churches we
visited. Elaborate gold designs interwoven with adoring angels surround
each of the holy figures, with crowns above them and abundant
decorative carving on the surrounding walls.
Three distinct cultures covering more than 20 centuries are represented high on a hill of Antequera. Beneath the churches are ruins of Roman baths and gardens of a former Muslim fortress. There’s George in the foreground, master of all he surveys at Giant's Gate.
 
The decorative tower of Colegiata de San Sebastian is at the end of the Street of Infante Don Fernando and serves as a city landmark. The figure of Christ is flanked by two apostles at its entranceway.
   
Royal Collegiate Church of Santa María la Mayor:
Outlined against the sky on a high plateau, this Catholic edifice in Antequera still stands as a city landmark, although it’s now a concert center rather than a place of worship. Contracted in 1503 as a kind of junior cathedral, this was one of the first Catholic edifices in Antequera and was the mother church until that status was granted to San Sebastian in 1692. Santa María’s celestial positioning still makes it a dominant city building. The most awe-inspiring feature, though, is the mammoth Giant’s Gate and archway leading to the church. Over the years some of Santa María’s most ornate accoutrements have been transferred to other
city churches, but the building itself evokes majesty with its immense,
tall Roman pillars holding up decorative arches. In a typical example
of European history, the church itself rises above ruins of Roman baths
and of the walls and gardens of a Moslem fortress.
  
If only for its location, the Church of El Carmen is worth the trip.
It towers above the highest escarpment of the city. From there you can
view several spires below -- and the Peña de Enamorados in the distance.
Our driver, Jual, filled in the time between sights with stories about
the churches, including the first Catholics, two women converted by St.
James on a missionary trip to the area. But, with something more
important in mind, Jual echoed our thoughts at a very long traffic
light stop. “Ay Dios Mio!” he spouted. “Let’s go. I’m hungry!” Soon
afterward, thanks to a tip from a fellow passenger, we headed along
Infante Don Fernando to the Calle San Augustín, an alley beside the
church of the same name, and discovered the cozy bistro.
   
Meson Bar Restaurante Juan Manuel
It has only seven tables (and a long brick bar), but the Juan Manuel
surprised us with servings of excellent Sopa de Picadillo (a
Spanish-style chicken with soft croutons, hardboiled eggs and bits of
Serrano ham) and an unusual endive salad with slightly melted Roquefort
cheese and small chunks of ham. The kicker was that no one was in a
hurry, especially the single waitress on duty. We sat down at 2:35
p.m., and she set our soup in front of us at 3:15. But, in Spain, good
food always trumps impatience.
 
The Dolmens of Antequera
The city’s most ancient landmarks lie in the far northeastern area of
the city, roughly across from the cemetery. The Dolmens, built around
5,000 B.C., are semi-underground dwellings known as megalithic
monuments because of their architectural style featuring huge blocks of
stone to separate rooms. The group of three was named a National
Monument by the Spanish government in 1886 and can be very interesting
to architectural aficionados. We viewed an explanatory film in the
modern visitor center, then traipsed a few hundred yards to one of the
dolmens. They’re an interesting reminder of ancient times but should be an add-on instead of a replacement for the incomparable architecture of
the churches.
Our genial driver and tour guide Jual took us to the highest reaches of Antequera in this muy loco-looking jitney.
On our one-day visit, we ran out of time before we could get to two
other interesting sites outside of town. Something to enliven our next
visit. El Torcal de Antequera lies about eight miles south and is a
natural park filled with limestone formations equal to or better than
those you might see in any of our American national parks and protected
areas. The second attraction, a few miles southeast of town, is Lobo
Park, billed as “the world’s unique wolf park.” A brochure explains
that four species of wolves in the area though not free-roaming,
live in a “semi-natural habitat.” There are guided tours as well as
horseback riding, a petting zoo and cafeteria. For ghost tour lovers,
the Lobo Park equivalent is Howl Nights, held weekends from May to
October.
Tours of the Lladró Porcelain Company’s facility in the Valencia suburb of Tavernes Blanques, put you up close and personal with more than 400 glowing figures. The Queen of the Nile (above) is the most expensive (about $156 thousand) tableau and largest piece (approx. a yard wide).
Valencia: The Lladró Brothers Call It Home.
If you’ve heard Plácido Domingo sing “Valencia,” you can
understand the excitement generated by the name of this great city on
Spain’s “Costa Blanca.” It’s a huge city -- and major European business
center -- but, for some reason, it seems overlooked by tourists intent
on seeing Madrid, Barcelona, Granada and Seville. We finally came to
our senses and booked a week in the birthplace of José Iturbi and
hometown of the current architectural star, Santiago Calatrava, not to
mention the headquarters for the producer of the world-renowned Lladró
porcelain figurines. Years ago, on our way from Barcelona to Málaga, we
had spent one short night in Valencia, with no lingering memory except
for savoring paella in the place where it was invented -- and a
complimentary serving of avellana, a hazelnut-flavored liqueur. This time
the visit would be for a week, but, for George, the main attraction was
a chance to tour the Lladró factory. We’ve been collectors for some 20
years.
As we discovered all too soon, a week was far too little time to enjoy
the myriad of delights waiting to be savored. We must have been napping when Valencia was named a World Heritage Site in 1996 and when it became the first European city to host the America’s Cup race just two years ago. Nor did we know that the mythic El Cid conquered -- and ruled -- the city for a short time, and that, in the long-lasting campaign to rid the Iberian Peninsula of the Moors, 50,000 of them had been forced out in 1238, long before Ferdinand and Isabella “finished the job” two centuries later while expelling or executing more than 2,000 Jews, some of whom were conversos, forced to become Catholics or risk expulsion or death. Other “news flashes:” Queen Isabella used money from Valencian bankers to finance Columbus’s famous adventure. And, surprisingly, a teacher named Cayetano Ripoli, executed in Valencia as late as 1826, became the last victim of the Inquisition. Today, the concentration is on successful commerce, fine arts, fine food and, as one tourist publication puts it, “architecture from all eras.”
    
Valencia Bus Turistic
www.valenciaguide.org
It’s almost always a good idea to “make friends” with a new city by
hopping onto a tour bus. Valencia is no exception. We boarded the big
red double-decker near a corner on the Plaza de la Reina, one of the
city’s most interesting and popular squares. The excursion comes in two
parts. The Maritime Tour takes in the Mediterranean port and beach and
covers a large area beyond the two massive gateways, once part of the
heavy fortification surrounding the city. One, the Serranos Gate, is
said to be Spain’s most beautiful example of gothic architecture. Part
Two, the Historic Tour, brought us mano a mano with the grandeur of
old wealth -- the many elegantly ornate buildings, churches and towers
that, in our opinion, make Valencia the baroque and renaissance capital
of Spain. Part One brought us up close and personal to the city’s newest
sensation, the City of Arts and Sciences, the triumph of Santiago
Calatrava. (See separate entry.) The super-modern grouping of buildings
sits near the former banks of the Turia River. After a disastrous 1957
flood, city fathers decided to drain and reroute the stream, “opening”
a landfill that is now a miles-long green area filled with gardens and
trees -- and also Gulliver Park, near where young Jonathan Swift once
liked to play. Today it sports a huge figure of Swift’s famous
character, strapped to the ground as in the immortal novel. Some 14
bridges still span the river-bed area, at least one dating to the 15th
century and two designed by Calatrava. Buildings at the port
corroborate its commercial importance and, we were reminded, the
beach was the inspiration behind paintings by another native son, Joaquín Sorolla, who actually lived nearby for several years.
After a lunch break, we boarded the bus for Part Two of the
tour, which brought us face-to-face with the many superbly ornate
buildings that lend credence to our opinion vis-à-vis the baroque and
renaissance capital of Spain.
The true symbol of the old city is the Miguelete Tower rising 51 meters (about 165 feet) above the busy humanity in the Plaza Reina. It was built in 1418 to honor the Archangel Michael and as a companion to the equally ornate adjacent
cathedral. Energetic visitors can climb the 207 stone steps to the
steeple for an exhilarating city view. The Plaza Reina is within the
proverbial stone’s throw of the Plaza de la Virgen, with its own
amazing structures, including the blue-domed Basilica of the Virgen de
los Desemparados (the forsaken) and an extension of the cathedral.
The ecclesiastic wonders seem endless, including the 14th-century tower
of the Santa Catalina Church, just around the corner from Plaza Reina
and almost twice as decorative as the Miguelete. But the “parade”
continues, passing striking civic and business structures -- the Palace
of the Generalitat (seat of government) on Plaza de la Virgen, the Silk
Exchange, gigantic Central Market, post office and Town Hall with
similarly sumptuous interior. Not to be overlooked, of course, is the
simple, but enchanting, exterior of the corrida de toros itself, one of Spain’s
largest bull rings, with 384 exterior arches and seats for 16,000 spectators.
Until savoring the design genius of several centuries in
Valencia, we had agreed that Spain’s architectural showcase is
Barcelona. It’s still one of our two favorite European cities (the
other is Budapest), but we now know that Señor Gaudí has credible
competition just a bit farther south. We also discovered that interiors
of several buildings are even more lavish than the exteriors. Some
cases in point: the Beneficia Cultural Center on Corona Street, marble
staircase and ballroom of the Town Hall, the meeting hall of the
Consulat del Mar -- and the “Golden Room” of the Generalitat, with its
deep coffered ceiling, thick with gold.
The Plaza Reina may be home to striking historic buildings, but
it’s hardly lacking in interesting small shops, not to mention a large
market specializing in handmade pottery as well as intriguing souvenirs
-- and several restaurants.
  
Cappuccino Grand Café: On a shady corner of the plaza, we discovered
this pleasant eatery that had been open just one week. Here we could
watch the stream of shoppers and tourists while sipping -- unusual in
Spanish restaurants -- iced tea. The billing was a little misleading,
but the concoction was tasty enough for refills, a mixture of light
lemonade heavily flavored with mint. “Complementing” our delightful
beverage discovery, I ordered a salmon and caper sandwich while George
chose a tuna baguette, not necessarily native cuisine, but well
prepared and tasty. On a second visit, we settled for ciabatta with
grilled chicken with accoutrements and, interestingly, a California
club. Did I mention the comfortable setting and excellent service?
    
La Ciudad de la Porcelana (City of Porcelain), Tavernes Blanques
(museo-lladro@es.lladro.com): On our second day in Valencia, George
realized one of his near-lifelong ambitions -- a tour of the Lladró
factory and campus in the nearby town of Tavernes Blanques. This is a
free tour, and in the language of your choice (to a point), but advance
reservations must be made. We contacted the company about a month
before our trip.
A 20-minute cab ride from our hotel took us to the entrance of
a huge grassy campus bordered by several business and manufacturing
buildings, all very modern. Our friendly guide, Elena Planas, met us at
the reception building. Crossing the campus to the main building, Elena
told us about the three brothers -- Juan, Jose and Vicente Lladró --
who built the first kiln in their parents’ house. That was in the
1950s. Today a thousand employees produce multiple-thousands of its
shiny, serene-looking figures. Manufacturing is done only on the Spanish campus.
Elena took us first to the room where friendly craftsman Juan Carlos
was pouring liquid porcelain into molds. The most important ingredient
in the secret recipe is kaolin, used for its whiteness and plasticity.
And timing is everything. Tiny pieces, such as horses’ ears, harden in
a few minutes and have to be removed promptly. Larger pieces can take
several hours. For Juan Carlos, it was “heads” time; he opened one mold
containing a horse’s head, then another with a jockey’s. “How does he
keep track of the time?” I asked Elena. “He’s very, very good,” she
quickly replied. Ditto for all of the skilled artists. Training for the job can take two to two-and-a-half years. Employees learn about all
phases of the operation, then decide where to specialize. The most
amazing part of the tour was watching artists shape near-microscopic
bits of clay into the tiny flowers that adorn most of the final figures
-- and then using porcelain paste to attach them one by one until they
meld into dozens of others in the baskets that have become Lladró
trademarks. All pieces are hand-painted and imbued with lifelike
expressions, then fired for a day at temperatures as high as 1300
degrees Celsius. Some of the workers, Elena told us, have been with
the company for 30 or more years. It could be that they’re inspired by
a message on the wall: “For Lladró, utopia is an imagined place where
mankind can find what makes it happier.”
Passing through the work area was only the beginning. Next came the
huge showroom with hundreds of figures, including the most expensive to
date, the yard-long “Queen of the Nile,” filled with action figures and
elaborate decorations. Price, in dollars: $156 thousand. The entire piece was fashioned by a single sculptor.
For art lovers, the pièce de resistance may be the Lladró brothers’s
private museum, also in the building and open to the public. It’s the
largest private collection in Spain and features one master after
another, from the 1500s to the present. All of the above goes hand in
hand with the brothers’s philosophy for their products: “We want our
works to be elegant, expressive, to exude life and have feelings. We
want them to reflect the good life, the positive values of all human
beings and all things which dignify life.”
    
Ciutat de les Arts I les Ciencies (City of Arts and Sciences):www.cac.es
This marvel of Calatrava architecture, with a little help from colleague
Felix Candela, could pass for life on a futuristic planet. Also known
as Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias (the Spanish language version as
opposed to the local Valencian, or Catalan, dialect; the city and area
is one of several autonomous regions of Spain), it consists of five
rounded, oval and parabolic structures heavily endowed with shades of
aqua and vivid blue. Most striking is the Agora, fronted by what looks
like a geometric skeleton of a globe, with curved layers of blue and
aqua behind it. The Prince Felipe Museum of the Sciences is a long,
narrow structure featuring high, narrow parabolas. A second palm-lined
walkway, l’Umbracle, is also a parabolic structure. L’Hemisferic, a
giant open “eye,” is home to a planetarium, a “laserium” and an Imax
theater. We opted for the latter, plugging our ears in the atrium while
waiting, with a multitude of chattering school kids, for the show to
begin. It was worth the pre-show “agony” for the presentation, a global
look at communities where nature is still king.
The fifth building, L’Hemisferic, is a blue glass beauty surrounded by
four flap-like parabolic arches. It was designed in part by Candela and
is “headquarters” for the aquarium, which, we discovered, extends to
another underground building nearby. Warning: lots of steps up and
down. No matter how many aquariums I’ve visited, I’ve always
discovered new, unusual and interesting minions of the sea. The pattern
continued in Valencia. Here there were wrasse with yellow and brown
speckles, double-banded bream, saddled sea bream, silver blotched
picarel with black squares on their sides, and cuttlefish. We would get
to see his “brother” on a plate at a local restaurant the next night.
As if this Calatrava extravaganza weren’t enough, a huge bridge,
equally avant-garde, stands just behind this “straight-out-of-Star-Trek” showcase.
    
Restaurante el Submarino: A little “plus” factor: Owing to our
purchase of a rather expensive Lladró figurine, Elena, the Porcelain
City guide, had provided us with free tickets to the City of Arts and
Sciences, a pleasant serendipity. We made up for it with the bill for
lunch at the restaurant on the lower level of l’Oceanographic, this
time reached via escalator. The meal was worth every euro! As we
contemplated menus styled like small hardcover notebooks, we exchanged
glances with an undulating ray swimming past our table in a
mini-aquarium. The waiter brought us small aperitifs -- a custard-like
pudding topped with congealed red wine -- and small rye rolls with
caraway seeds. I couldn’t resist an entrée of foie gras, small but
exquisite -- and filling. George opted for lenguado (sole), another
small offering but equally palate-satisfying. With room for dessert, we
shared chocolate bombons filled with strawberry ice cream, accompanied
by a chocolate mousse volcano and garnished with small red berries.
George’s quick review: “This is what you call fine dining!”
    
El Fallero Museum: Every March, honoring the feast of St. Joseph,
Valencianos celebrate the Fiesta de Fallas in a big way, with long
processions, holding aloft giant papier-mache caricature-figures --
depicting politicians, celebrities, cartoon characters and
historical events. As a cap to the celebration, all the figures are disposed of through massive conflagrations. In 1934, a civic leader, averse to seeing every
falla destroyed, persuaded festival officials to “pardon” one
character every year, the “winner” to be selected by a panel of judges.
All of the reprieved would be displayed in a museum. Today, in a former
rectory for priests, visitors can eye a multitude of the lucky
winners, along with related posters and other mementos. The building
is practically across the street from the City of Arts and Sciences.
Early renditions include a street violinist with his dog holding a hat
for contributions, two evil-looking men in derby hats lighting a
candle, the comic actor Cantinflas (“Around the World in 80 Days”)
with a colleague, Don Manolito, seated on a stack of books by a popular
1940s author and a cartoonist. Later displays became more daring, such
as “Prehistoric Matrimony,” depicting a club-wielding caveman grabbing
a frightened woman by the hair; a family Saturday night bath; a fisherman
sizing his catch with a folding measuring device, and six corrupt cops.
American visitors will recognize such displays based
on The Flintstones, Mary Poppins, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Indiana Jones and The Lion King. The 1972 “representative” is an American astronaut climbing a ladder, watched by an anxious-looking moon.
A few hours in the museum is an introduction to social and cultural
history, not to mention the foibles of many a foolish politician. But a
few are genuine tributes, such as the 2006 homage to Spain’s famed
writer, Blasco Ibáñez, best known for “The Four Horsemen of the
Apocalypse.” There’s also a 2007 grouping honoring another famous
Valenciano, the painter Joaquín Sorolla.
   
Museo de Bellas Artes (Museum of Fine Arts): Across the Turia riverbed on the Pont de la Trinitat (Trinity Bridge) is Valencia’s “entry” in
the “society” of museums dedicated to the total arts picture -- from
the 14th to the 21st centuries, although its main concentration are
works by time-honored Valencians, including, of course, Sorolla. It may
not compete with the Louvre, the Prado or the Met, but we found it well
worth the visit. The baroque building itself is a treat for the eyes.
Since Spain is well known for its Catholicity, you might expect the
museum to be heavily tilted toward religious art -- and you would be
right. But, whatever one’s religious persuasion, a visit is worthwhile
if only to see not one, but five, truly spectacular retablos, the
ornate, wall-sized works originally designed as backings for altars.
They’re most frequently seen in Mexico as well as Spain. Most striking
is probably the Retablo Eucaristico del Convento de la Puridad, with its
exquisite gold work, among which are final earthly
days of Christ, from the Last Supper to torture, crucifixion,
resurrection and final return to heaven. Besides local geniuses of the
brush, a good number of the oil paintings are the works of renowned
Spanish artists, including El Greco, Murillo, Velasquez, Goya and
Zulueta, as well as the not-so-Spanish Hieronymus Bosch and various
other “foreigners.”
  
El Museo Nacional de Ceramica y de las Artes (National Museum of Ceramics and Sumptuary Arts: This was a surprise discovery as we meandered along the street of San Vicente Martir on the way to the Plaza Reina. It was hard to miss because of its super-ornate exterior. The museum is in the
former palace of the Marqués de Dos Aguas. We later learned that it’s one of the most striking -- and popular -- buildings in the city. As with a good number of public buildings in Spain, this has more than one
name. In at least one guidebook, it’s called the Gonzalez Marti National Museum of Ceramic and Sumptuary Art. It does indeed have some fine works, including a whole room filled with tile furnishings, but, as a former home, it has many rooms, entrances and exits to confuse the newcomer. I’m sure we missed seeing many other fine works because of this.
    
Mossén Femades, the restaurant street: We would never have found this
location, more like an alley, if not for Marta, a very helpful worker
at the tourism office located at a five-corners spot next to the
national theater. She patiently wrote down the names of several nearby
restaurants among the tangled Old Town byways.
Recommendation Number One was Civera, one of several bistros with
outside tables. We liked the atmosphere, the service and the food so
much that we supped there three times. The first time the waiter
brought small appetizer versions of gazpacho, complete with chopped
fresh vegetables. Among the “deliciosos” we enjoyed on one visit or
another was a large “special salad” with many ingredients, including a
tuna “mountain,” lettuce wedges, olives, cold salmon, Serrano ham
slices, asparagus and white smoked fish. One specialty of the day was
cuttlefish, which we decided to share. It was beautifully cooked and
tasty, but chewier than a rubber toy. An ill-advised choice, but one
more addition to our knowledge of native specialties. On our third
visit we opted for the paella. The mix of meat and seafood in a
mass of saffroned rice, included snails as well as the more traditional
shrimp, chicken, clams and fish. We were definitely NOT disappointed.
One evening, with compliments of the house, we enjoyed samplings of muscatel, cookies and chocolate candies. A nice serendipity – and
typical of many bistros, fine AND casual, throughout the country.
   
During the week we returned several times to Massén Fomades. At
Palacio de la Bellota we enjoyed shellfish soup (sopa de mariscos), a
special Valencian salad and grilled prawns. Afterward we peeked inside
at dozens of smoked ham shanks hanging from the walls, a typical scene
in many Spanish bistros.
    
Alkazar, across from Civera. This was the most expensive dinner during
our three weeks on the Iberian Peninsula, but worth every euro. Our
first course: fish soup swarming with clams, shrimp and fish in a
scrumptious broth. As his main course, George opted for yet more shrimp
– lots of it. My choice was rodaballo. On the Costa del Sol, that means
turbot. In Valencia it was a thick fish that all but melted in my
mouth, accompanied by cherry tomato halves, tiny potatoes flavored with
chives – and two quail eggs. When we began our Spanish sojourns almost
30 years ago, we quickly learned that a good synonym for the land of El
Cid and Picasso is “seafood” -- of all sizes and varieties. Except for
the cuttlefish, we have never been disappointed. A Colombian professor
friend in Milwaukee once put it quite succinctly: “The Spanish are
geniuses with fish.” Amen.
    
Casa Roberto, Maestro Gozalbo #18: This is one of Valencia’s more
elegant dining places. As such, it opens no earlier than 9 p.m. We
arrived about 8:15. Our cab driver (typical of many of his “ilk,” we
discovered, to our great pleasure) was concerned about dropping us off
without knowing if the place was open for business at all. He walked
across the street to check before letting us out. Instead of standing
outside, we opted for a nearby pub, the Bodega La Goyesca, where things
were already lively. The bar was lined with tapas, the conversation was
lively and the décor skewed toward bullfighting, but with a Goya print
on the wall in homage to the “patron saint” of the place. We sipped
wine and delved, but lightly, into our favorite appetizer, boquerones.
These are tiny, deep-fried sardines, almost the first thing we order in
the first restaurant we visit on each trip.
Back at Casa Roberto, we were ushered into a large well-appointed
dining room, where we feasted on a shared entrée of chicken and rabbit,
another first for me. Accompaniments included rice, large white beans,
grilled artichokes and grilled snails. An upscale meal indeed.
Thoroughly mesmerized by the wonders of this third largest Spanish
city, we hope to return sometime soon. On the next agenda: a thorough
inspection of gardens in the “reoriented” Turia riverbed, tours of the
grand church interiors and visits to the home of Blasco Ibanez, he of
the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,” to the massive Central Market
and to the “College of the Major Art of Silk” to marvel at the wonders
of yet another artistic form. That’s for starters. |
