iberia

that's all my friend, january for iberia. i really enjoyed this exhaustive yet awesome journey. i realize that this peninsula is a very diverse place, but compare to this universe, this is only a small spot on earth. from the west coast of cabo da roca, i know that the secret of men's greatest discovery was made in the name of god. and to the east shore of barcelona, there was i met gaudi who captured the essence of universe. while down to the south, the legacy of two civilizatons filled up the atmosphere and written on the street. yet, the faces of southern spaniards can tell thousand of words. in the hinterland of ronda, their faces told you that once people from the opposite shore of the mediterranean sea were here and built their sanctuary. as now i can feel how melancholy life beneath the mountainous land, so i cherish the sound of guitar played and the silver peak of sierra nevada.

as this morning i stepped into the lowlands, the bitter winter remained beautiful in bright sunny sky. school will start soon, and this sophomore will delve into the abstract scholarly world. the icy morning was heated by the warm hot chocolate, the temperate elixir for cold. moreover, i cant wait to see my friends, as we will have chinese dinner tonight in our most favorite chinese restaurant. adios, iberia!

anselma

indeed, there is always something unexpected on every journey. be it nasty weather that has to keep you inside from exploring new places, or little information about the whereabout of the true local haven. on the last night in andalucia, of course before flying back to the reality of life in the lowlands, i had the chance to experience the real musical tradition of the southern spaniards. it was in anselma. the local bar that performs flamenco. the star was not a young beautiful woman, but a lady in such a 'developed' age that took the floor and stirred the atmosphere. there were no people talking in english, except us. and the wall were covered with old photographs and posters that portrayed the life of the city.

like a cinderella in the fairytale, everything turned life on twelve o'clock sharply. empty chairs suddenly occupied and drinks flew from the bar to the wooden little table. a man started to play the guitar while his companion hit the wooden box where he was seating on. clapping hands made sounds in pattern and he started to sing. after that, time passed by from hour to hour. and every time the song ended, "ole!" people shouted lively. the lady was special. she sung like she was telling us a story. i noticed people replied her with pieces of sentences, which she followed to sing those words. sometimes when the guitar was played in low volume, she talked with audience and even commented to their appearance or how they behave. they all looked so familiar to each other. maybe it was because they speak the same languange. or it was probably because they often spent nights together in anselma. for me, that was the last night in andalucia, the land where washington irving described in melancholy sweet tradition of singing. indeed, his story enforced my experience. i saw the andalucian were sensitive and delicate. they are fond of expressing their emotion through music. the songs they sing are reflecting the way they feel this world.

sevilla in monday

there were nothing much to do in monday. my andalucia trip was almost over, and i felt extremely exhausted these days. after the rainy sunday, luckily monday was wonderful. the sky was blue and the day was warm. since alcazar was closed on monday, so the big agenda for today was only visiting the cathedral in the centre of the city. they said this was one of the biggest cathedral in europe. meanwhile, my main intention to visit this cathedral was because i wanted to see the tomb of christopher colombus which was inside the building. since he was the big man in the world history, his tomb was located inside of the cathedral as to appreciate his journey to discover the new world in the name of god. that was my guess.

aside the tomb, the tower of the cathedral was also quite fascinating. you need to walk all the way to the top, because there were no stairs. in fact, the small alley was extraordinary. it was like a flat floor which circling to the tower. therefore, it took extra effort to the top, not only time consuming but also energy consuming. however, once you get to the top, the effort was worthwhile. the whole sevilla was stretched before your eyes. and if you spend quite awhile, the bells might surprise you as they ring every hour regularly. from the four corner of the tower, you can see different face of sevilla. one side shows the main square which ends up to the alcazar. while the other side shows the bullfighting ring in the distance. from the top, you can even conclude that most of the buildings down there were painted in white. lovely isn't?

mezquita

sunday morning, rain is falling. it seemed that where ever i go, the rain always follows me. today, the rain accompanied my pilgrimage to the historical mosque in moslem history, the mosque of cordoba.

the easiest way to cordoba from sevilla was by bus, which runs with unfriendly schedule especially on sunday. however, i always believe there is something valuable on every journey i embark. like a treasure, it takes extra effort to unveil the real value of every acquaintance. as it was in cordoba. arrived in cordoba was already in midday, and the vibrant of the city reverberted the lonely rainy sunday. with less visitors in the bus station, and there were only locals busy with their daily commute. the light rain that keep pouring down on earth of andalucia made the scene even more isolated. it was like stranded in the upland and lost in translation. and the only thing you can do was keep on walking the trip as you have planned before. there was no turning point, meanwhile your distance increased farther. my own salavation was the thought of the mezquita. my fountain to quench my thirst in this journey. i hope the excitement would be equally paid off, with what ever i migth absorb during this trip.

the mezquita was open to visitor at 2pm in sunday. from the outer landscape, the mosque was built in earthly color of brown. despite the history predominantly told us about the magnificent of mosque in cordoba, it is now a cathedral. following to the declining of moslem rule in iberia peninsula, it latter being transformed as a chuch. i tried to find the mihrab, the place where the leader of prayer stands facing mecca in islam ritual. i didnt find it. the only thing that remained was a floating idea, that once there was a great mosque here.

beneath the green steppe of andalucia

departing from malaga that morning, it was fair weather, unlike yesterday. this was the second weekend outside the lowlands, and it felt like million years already. i have travelled far from north down to the south and traversed sovereign lands, rivers and castles. the insight has gradually amounted as my traveling days longer. it has been awhile aways from the mundane schedule a sophomore should have, and the liberating feeling has moderate now. i still try to keep myself sober from the depletion of changing lodges and short-term encounter with new surroundings. i wonder how many unfinished glimpses and thoughts i have absorbed and slowly ignored as my journey continued. those unwritten observation has mounted in my mind, they grew thicker waiting to be written down. once again, i tried to stay sober so as my journey will be a modest one, neither excessively unpredictable nor extremely rigid. just put everything in their precise proportion accordingly.

aside from those domestic order discussion, today's next destination was supposed to be the last one before flying back to the lowlands from madrid. we wanted to catch the bus at eleven in the morning, and we arrived at the platform just few minutes after the driver closed the door and slowly departed. we were staring to the driver with questioning look whether he would stop the bus and let us in. in fact, he did. i guess this was a privilege one can enjoy in country except the strict lowlands.

from the coastline of malaga, we traversed westward to the innerland. during the first hour, the bus crossed the mountanious roads surrounded by rocky hills with small creeks flow beneath. while another hour, we witnessed the landscape of the land has changed into flat green steppe. a geographich mark for where people can build cities on it. apparently sevilla was one of it. this was the old kingdom resided its soveriegnty, a place where the kingdom's rules and law were issued by king and his courts. beneath the green steppe of andalucia.

plaza de toros de ronda

this is where the first bull fighting was officially recognized by the spanish kingdom. although bull fighting only takes place on summer, but the bull ring is open for visitor throughout the year. in the museum, there were alot of stories about famous matador, the bull fighter. they also displayed all the nitty gritty of bull fighting traditions. from posters, pink socks and the embroidered robe called mantilla. it seemed that bull fighting is kind of respectful sport for the royals as to illustrate the heroic spirit of the true spaniards.

nevertheless, ronda was not merely famous for its bull fighting tradition. the characteristic of this city was also special because it was built upon two hedge of gorges. the tall and green stone cliff on each side becomes the foundation of this old city. moreover, the journey to ronda from malaga has added special impression on my trip that day. the weather was not very friendly. waves of mediterranean sea were in chaos and severe winds brought up rain in the coastline, while in the highlands its absence has pulled down the foggy air closer to the earth surface. when the bus was still driving along the coastline, i felt like in the middle of battle because the high tide in the ocean looked like angry soldiers with their spears and swords. but when the bus reached the hill, i felt like walking in a dream, because everything looked so unreal when covered with thin layered of white clouds around. this two contradictions both have alienated me in the middle of nowhere. furthermore, when i finally arrived in ronda, the city in a way has reinforced this fairyland state of mind. by looking at the old gorges that built this city, it was feel like visiting a fairy town, a timeless place with untouchable reality an immortal can reserve.

by the mediterranean sea

malaga, the city by the mediterranean sea. the journer took approximately 2 hours on road from granada. it was amazing to see the landscape along the road. apparently i was descending from the uphill granada to the coastline of southern iberia peninsula. i saw rocky hills and bare trees that survived during the changing seasons. little houses in the distance, they were independently residing on the hill slope and quite isolated from the each other.this scenery brought me to be fully aware of the vastness of this land. from bare trees to snowy peaks, the vegetation was diverse as the latitude was distinctively unique from one to another.

during the two hours trip, there was occasionally shower, just to fresh up the driver mind so as he was able to remained cautious on driving. and for the traveller, it was a sweet surrender to another color to paint the countryside with sparkling raindrops. i stayed awake during the journey, because you can really encounter the real face of a land from the way you measure the distinctive features encountered on road. and for me, it was a process to learn this land more, aside from the famous world heritage and cultural performances. this primitive way was immensely resourceful.

by chance, i got to know that malaga was the birth place of pablo picasso. picasso museum in malaga exhibited more than 200 paintings of picasso. looking from an ordinary people's perspective, the life of this man was so dramatic. or maybe that was the big different between an ordinary people and people who put themshelves on such a high note in the world history.

because the city was located by the sea, i can clearly see the deep turqoise green of mediterranean sea. the borderline between two continents.

red castle

alhambra, or meand res castle in arabic. the moor built in on the steep cliff and used strong material that it can last for centuries. washington irving mentioned that locals believed the moor buried their treasure under the castle. some tales even said that the construction of the castle was protected by the power of witchcraft as the moor dedicated themselves to it for the protection of their property. i dont know whether this is only to mesmerize the visitors as they will find themselves walk in fairyland of alhambra. for me, the red castle was huge and sober. the decoration was completely different with other architecture influenced by the western thought. as the moor were decicated moslems, they designed the castle beautifully but without the intention to exceed the almighty's perfection. so as the mortal is belonged to human, so they were fully aware that their creation were imperfect and not even close to it. but their 'imperfect' was already made a magnificent work of art.

in the valley of sierra nevada

arrival on granada was greeted by soft rain in the morning. it was still early when we reached the place where we should disembark our stuff and get ourselves some rest in the nights. the city was on the valley of sierra nevada, and the thought of having a milder winter in andalucia was mistakenly calculated. they said that the weather will be cold for some days ahead. later i discovered in washington irving's travel journal, he wrote that it was the silver peaks of sierra nevada that always bring cold winter and moderate summer. yes, i can see the eternal snowy peaks of sierra nevada on the way to this city. no wonder, the atmosphere were not so different with the lowlands low temperature.

the lodge were so strategic. i mean, it was very close to the downtown and the albayzin district. after getting off from the bus, we crossed a big street and entered a small alley comprised of tiers all the way to the top. along the sidewalk of this alley, there were alot of souvernir shops, most of them were from morroco. the sellers were locals but they still carried the distinguish moorish features on their faces. after turned left at some point, the road were even smaller and steeper. the place was friendly and, of course, provided us with warm bed and hot tea. a salavation from the savage of wandering.

after felt comfortably full with sweet bread and hot tea, we spent the rest of afternoon by exploring the albayzin and some main sights in the neighbourhood. it was resemble with alfama, but this time without laundry outside in the balcony. and also the houses were mostly painted in white, different from the colorful houses in alfama. these are some glimpses in albayzin...

after walking for quite awhile, we reached an open square in the highland where we can see the city at the down hill. aside from the liberating view, a big red castle stood still right in front of our eyes. though it was far from where we were, but the palace looked so huge and filled with glory from the past. that was alhambra. i looked on it, and searched for any clue to value how many events have been carved on its walls. it looked so mysterious. it was like one of the palaces described in the 1001 nights' tales. another episodic story of arabian nights. i guess, i will dream of alhambra tonight.

deceived by dali

monday was not an april mop. but i was deceived by dali, the surrealist. this morning i woke early to catch a train to figuerres, the hometown of salvador dali. i heard that he was a man of surrealism during my junior high, as his creation of art was far from the simplistic ordinary life. and for this reason, it was easy for us to get confused or even to get deceived.

i arrived at figuerres right in the midday, after taking two hours train departed from clot train station in barcelona. the first impression about the city was quiet, nothing interested me besides the traffic of ordinary life. as i approached to the city centre, the sign to dali's museum was recognizable. it lead us to the big red wall building with big eggs attached on the top the roof. it obviously the place where we were heading for. but too bad it was closed on monday. so we can not get inside and see what exactly salvador dali had created. actually, my travelmate had made a phone call to the museum's office to check whether they were open or not. and they replied that they were open throughout the year. in fact, there was no door that open in this museum. i confirmed it with a shopkeeper who were working on the souvenir shop nearby. she replied with her rough english that it was closed on monday. i wonder this might be another surrealist fact that should not be taken seriously, except walked back to the train station and heading for barcelona.

the great book of nature

the organic root of gaudi's architecture is mostly inspired by the nature. his first impression of the world was from the surrounding nature during his childhood period. being raised in the farmland, his encountered with trees, corn and honeycomb had made the world was different from his perspective. while the classic feature of his little town had influenced his illustration of a city. he preserved the essential features of city in medieval period by transferring these into another form of chimneys and bell towers. the functions remain, nevertheless the structure has changed according to the architect's complexion view of the world.

seeing gaudi's buildings was a new experience for me. it was like a short course of art history. his ideas contributed to the emergence of modernism in barcelona. it was during the early 19 century where this city had become a major industrial city in southern europe, the society also had turned to be more sophisticated. following to the advance quality of life, the number of high class society considerably increased. therefore, their spending on food, fashion and art were also unexceptional. in this respect, rich people were eager to have beautiful residents as to state their position in the society. this consequently had pulled gaudi to become their architect.

but for gaudi, work as an architect was more like to create a bridge between human and the nature. he tended to place his designs as part of the big universe. on the other hand, he also considered the nature to be the boundless source of inspiration. one of the pillars in sagrada familia explained that he was intending to bring the forest into the temple. as the pillars illustrated tall trees in the forest with hole that used to appear if its branch was cut down. yes, i would say that it was his effort to read the big book of nature.

a diamond in the sky

from the western coast of iberia peninsula to the eastern coast, i catched the glance of barcelona. a city where gaudi built high tower to gaze a radiant welcome for the approaching sailors . though winter should be milder here, but this year was an exceptional. as low temperature crossed the europe brought freezing winds, citizen and visitors have to deal with this too.

fortunately it was sunny during the day, so i can leave out the thought of getting an umbrella. when the sun glanced at me this morning, suddenly i felt the excitement of wandering. a promising fragments for this journey. indeed, it was true. park de guell fascinated me. it seemed that barcelona was the right place to quench one thirst of art. the architecture and the landscape were diverse. some buildings designed by antoni gaudi, the notorious la rambla and the spirit of modernism intertwined together. the representation of the city was just so artistic. despite the crowded fashion street, there was a mixture of knowledge in the air. an old city that survived over the centuries and therefore it has been a homage for merchants and poets. as a foreigner in this land, there was so much to learn from every glimpse i laid my eyes on this city.

yet, the story was just about to begin from here. for today i found a diamond in the sky. as the sun was brilliant, it enchanted children for amusement. and a man with his simple bucket filled with liquid soap, he flew a bubble to the air cheered with children laughs. people were staring as the bubble flew up to the sky. it transparent anatomy let the sunlight easily penetrated, and left a spectrum of rainbow attached on its glossy layer. like a shining diamond in the sky.

obrigado!

lisboa's night was chilly and tranquil. tomorrow will be another time for new destination, but my heart stand still in the midst of night in lisboa. i could not agree more to the fact that this place has charmed me in a way which should be considered awkward by others. i love for the cool breeze blowing from the atlantic ocean, a mesmerize call for hometown glory. and the narrow streets of alfama with hanging laundry outside in the balcony, a warm welcome sign for wanderer.

the night went slowly as i enjoyed my simple dinner at the kitchen. this time was special, companied by depeche mode i absorbed the quality of another work of art, cooking. obviously my instant food can not compare with the hand made dinner steamed with thoughtful calculation of time and ingredients. the chef was an artist. he cooked as he listened to the music. let them two inspire him. this had made lisboa night even merrier.

the thought of lisboa was moist to me. not only because of the colorful little tiles on the wall but also because the heavy rain that had dissolved these colors into my mind, decorated with sweet "pastel" and the rocly coast in cabo da roca. so lovely yet so isolated. that was the beauty that lingers and hardly to vanish.

since 1837

the big picture of lisboa today was grey. it rained heavily as the clouds did not want to share it in other lands. i took my soaked boot along the road from the al-ubxuna to the alfama alleys. and the little umbrella can not stop the rain to spread the wet everywhere. indeed, there is always something interesting to experience in every journey.

from the top of the sao jorge castle, i learned that the arabs were the initiator to build the city. however, as other conqurer came and took over the castle, later the romans were the newly ruler that eventually expanded the city. as the merchants increasingly arrived in the port from the new world, the coast became densely populated. and the population should be expanded beyond the castle walls. some of the arabs reminiscents can still be founded. the undecorated walls, and the absence of human figures or statues enforce the fact that islam culture once inhabited this place.

the journey continued as the rain linger in the sky. this time alfama, the district with colorful buildings and small streets still have the radiant smile even the sky was not bright. i saw the locals hung their laundry outside on their balcony. i wonder whether they ever calculate that the rain will make those undried clothes remain wet. later, i learned from a friend that it was supposedly a symbol to welcome the visitor. hm... it takes time for foreigner to understand the local right?

as the evening approached, the outskirt city belem offered a sweet moment to end the journey. this time the rain has passed and left it traces everywhere. the old cookies shop in bellem is famous since the 1837. their main product was the baked sweet cookies with the creamy inside. it is served warm with tea or coffee. i sipped my tea as i chewed the sweetness of today´s rain. delicately soft and it sticks the whole frame of lisboa in my mind.

where the land meets the ocean

upper from the lisboa, there were sintra and cabo da roca. however, cabo da roca gave me more than an impression of the blue ocean. it was an indescribable feeling. the trip by bus from sintra took approximately 40 minutes. the road was small and steep as we were passing the mountainous sintra down to the west coast land. fair weather was accompanying along the trip.

cabo da roca is a cliff where it is recognized as the most western point of the european continent. up in the top of the cliff, there is a monumental cross, a symbol of the explorer who sailed the ocean in the name of god. while standing on the top of the hill, we can hear the fearless sound of waves hit the rocky cliff. an overwhelmed feeling. as if there is nothing in this world except the very moment when you are in it. aside the rocky hill, the vegetation of cabo da roca was also naturally attractive. some wild flowers growing patiently throughout the ebb and tide.

the sunset was already approaching. and the sudden rain left soft traces in the whole scene of cabo da roca in front of my eyes. this time i decided to come closer to the hill top once again. this time the sound of the wave was getting tame. a shy blue ocean was whispering softly to the ear of the horizon. telling the sun to take a rest, and let the moon take care of the universe. i looked up to the sky, there was a bold line of orange and grey painted in a blue canvas. so tranquil as the visitors mostly have left. my friend was inside the visitors´office and i was with myself close to the hedge of the shore. it is true what people say "silent is golden, but my eyes can see".

terça-feira in lisboa

the first day out of the lowlands. first a transit at barajas, and it was snowy. it was quite seldom to meet the white snow in the south. but this winter, is different. i looked through the window and the green was conquered by the white. barajas in white welcomed me. two hours transit in barajas, there was nothing much to do. i had a proper lunch, but the menu was a standard one. unlike the lowlands, whereas everything was extremely familiar with me, this place looked like a stranger for me, even for only a temporary acquaintance.

i think barajas does not want to look friendly. it kept distance for the visitors and passenger for its own safety. no trash can, no locker and extreme baggage control. a lesson learned from the unforgettable attack.

arrived in lisboa was greeted by a sunny blue sky. a warm feeling suddenly entrenched my mind. i thought the lowlands has painted its grey sober atmosphere to my hinterland. meanwhile, this place seemed to offer another lively scene for this schedule-tied sophomore. entering lisboa by a couch trip took less than a thirty minutes. and the journey was enjoyable, since the trip slowly introduced me with the face of lisboa. tall buildings painted with bright colors, and the decoration was extravaganza. unlike the roman buildings in rome or prague, i seldom see human figures in lisboa´s buildings. most of them are flowers or curves that artistically shape like ribbons.

my journey with the couch ended in rossi square. i think it was a period of post-post-christmas sale, so the streets were packed by people grabbing their shopping bags. of course, some afternoon walkers were also strolling along the city square, the sound of conversation and the smell of local land. the blend of it was like a vague insanity. so thick and opaque.

skating

the little lake nearby the binnenhof is frozen now. its like an icy land over there, and people are getting around for skating. the sunny yet chilly sunday, i can see the ducks are walking above the ice, and the skating shoes are dancing cheerfuly.

the sunny sunday

a girl playing with a dog

binnenhof

the brightest night

they said today the moon is going to perform its very best, to shine for the brightest night of the year. it sounds quite overwhelming, because the new year has just started with the thousand of hopes and wishes flying everywhere, make the icy winter turn warmer and friendly. so by chance, i took a picture of the full moon. looking above to the silver smile, the moon was there, and there was the moon.

the sun illuminates the day

even the fairness of the season can defeat the cold winter. taking from a scene in the noordeinde passage, this picture reflects the misty winter morning that greeted by the slight yellow dust throughout the air. the the sun illuminates the day.