Escaping the Heat in Spain

Broad wide streets of Logroño, with modern apartment buildings.

There does not seem to be many tourist attractions in Logroño. No great historical events, not much art, and no particular architectural wonders. Yet, it is a pleasant city, with wide streets and little traffic, broad sidewalks with plenty of shade, large parks and cafes and bars everywhere. And a great night life! A good place to live, and perhaps a great place to raise kids.

Trees and shade in Logroño

But we're not here for either of those things. We're, well, tourists. We're here, in Spain, on the plain where the rain falls, mainly. (Or so I'm given to understand.) We're in the Rioja region, where we came for the wine. And the eclipse!

Street art in Logroño.

On August 12, in a few days from when I write this, there will be a total eclipse of the sun. We learned about this eclipse a year or more ago. It's visible along a path from Iceland down through Northern Spain to Barcelona. It will be easier to watch it further north, as the sun will be setting by the time the eclipse happens in Barcelona. The north coast will be better: earlier, so the sun will be higher. But there is a serious risk of overcast!

So we came further south, to the plains, in hopes of getting a clear sky. And while we're here, we'll be visiting wineries in this historical and highly-honored wine making region. 

No, it's not Bologna, but porticos in Logroño serve the same function: a shady place to walk, shop, and gather.

A view of the twin towers of the Cathedral. Logroño is nowhere near as elegant as Seville, but does have some very classic architecture.

Today we went to a winery (bodega) in the nearby town of Naverrette to buy a couple of cases, one white, one rosé, to take home. After getting them stowed in the car we realized we were going to need another case of rosé to drink during the rest of our trip (in the evening, AFTER parking the car!).

I went back and found the offices locked. So I walked around the corner and wandered inside the winery.

These are modern wineries, warehouse buildings that are not unpleasant when seen from the highway, but are not old or historic in any way. Inside, they are filled with tall stainless steel vessels for making and aging the wine. 

I found a crowd inside, among the stainless tanks. Eight or ten men and a few women were clustered around a collection of plastic containers with a capacity of perhaps 8-10 gallons each. The vintner was holding a nozzle at the end of a thick hose that ran back to one of the tanks. He was carefully filling each container. Everyone was watching and commenting, chatting and laughing.

We looked on, amazed, as one container after another was filled and placed on a pallet to be loaded into the cars that continued to collect outside.

The vintner filling wine containers while someone's son helps out.
(He helped us load the cases of wine into our car, too!))

We finally were shown back to the office showroom to get our final case, six paltry bottles, not even one gallon! The lady ringing up our purchase told us that no, these were not restaurateurs getting their house wine for the week. These were their neighbors, local townsfolk, who like to have a glass or three with a meal, and enjoyed inviting friends over to join them.

It seemed like a regular Saturday for her. Sell a few cases to tourists, and replenish the tanks of the locals!

This trip to Spain was threefold. The primary factor was the eclipse. We were interested in the wine, certainly. The third reason, as spring in Montpellier morphed into an intolerable summer, was to escape the heat. 

We got sooooo tired of that relentless heat! It started in June, as we were moving (oh yes, we've moved to another apartment in Montpellier, in the heat of the summer—that's a whole other story). For all of July mornings had been very warm—high 70s as the sun came up. Then the day got hotter, rising to the high 90s, with little relief as the sun went down. We really needed to get away!

So for the last two and a half weeks we've been on the road. We traveled through the Pyrenees, taking advantage of the cooler weather and clean air in the mountains. (No fire danger in Montpellier, but we've heard reports of smoke in the air.)

We spent a few days on the Atlantic coast, near Biarritz, and crossed the Spanish border into Basque Country. We just spent a week near the Spanish city of Santander, on the Atlantic coast. We were outside the city (it's tough staying in a city when you have a car), on a tidal estuary known, if I understand the Spanish correctly, as the Black Swamp.

The Marismas Negras, Black Swamp. It looked like this when we arrived. Dispiriting!

It was dispiriting when we arrived, as the tide was out and the mud flats were exposed. But during our week there we came to appreciate the tidal cycle: mud flats in the morning filling to create a calm lake in the afternoon, emptying towards sunset. 

Our lake, at high tide. Note the train in the distance.

Then, there was the train. Part of the local transport network, this three-car train would pass by on the far side of the estuary five or six times a hour. We came to appreciate the "clack clack clack" of its arrival, the rumble as it crossed the bridge, and the final "clacks" as it disappeared.

And it was cool! There was a refreshing chill in the morning, pleasantly warm in the afternoon. Most nights we left the doors open to the cool night air. A light rain fell the day before our departure. 

Our residence overlooking the tidal estuary. We stayed in the building on the left, on the very top floor. As there were few other guests, we felt privileged with our private panoramic view!

Now, we're back in the heat! It's not as bad as Montpellier, though, and people here have a culture built around hot summers. Mornings are for getting things done. People are out, businesses are open. Things get done. At 2PM everything shuts down. The streets are deserted as the locals have lunch, or go inside for the fabled siesta. It makes a lot of sense here! In the evening things open up again, the streets start to fill. 

And by 8PM, when the temperatures have started down, the streets are thronged. Restaurants begin to fill as the population looks for night life.

8PM and Logroño comes alive with the dinner crowd.

We were out in the evening and found the tapa streets, a neighborhood of old, narrow streets lined with tapa bars. Tiny restaurants with a few high tables on the street where people were sitting—or standing—enjoying a glass of wine or beer. We were looking for a particular tapa bar; it had just opened, so we sat at the narrow bar inside and ordered their signature dish, shrimp and pineapple skewers. 

The chef selected a couple from the pile that had been prepared, and threw them on the hot grill for a few minutes. My, were they tasty!

(One thing we learned from the tapa culture in Seville is that while small, tapas ofen have unusual flavor combinations that can be quite good. That was certainly the case here!)

We spent another hour or so enjoying the busy streets as the sky darkened. It's very different at night!

We'll be on the road for another week or so. After the eclipse we'll meet up with our friends from Montpellier, Mark and Mary, and slowly make our way back to France.

Sunrise on a rare clear morning over our lagoon near Santander.

Belgium's Blue Forest

 

The Blue Forest in Hallerbos, Belgium

     Labor Day in France

The first of May. Labor Day in France. In the US Labor Day is the first of September; labor gets a mention on that day. In France, on the first of May, labor gets the day. Everything shuts down. Markets. Shops. Most restaurants. And the tram and bus system. The only day of the year it stops. It runs, on a reduced schedule, on Christmas and New Years. But on Labor Day, every worker gets the day off!

    Belgium

But this is a blog about our travels to Belgium...

It all started with a Windows screen saver. There were these tall, thin trees above a carpet of blue flowers: the Blue Forest. Paula said, I want to go there! 

So we did.

But first, some research. We found that the the wild bluebells, that make the forest blue,  have a short growing season—about three weeks, sometime between the first of April to the middle of May. We picked mid-April and kept our fingers crossed.

The Blue Forest is in Belgium. We’ve never been to Belgium. We were never drawn to go, but now that we were going it made sense to look around a bit.  We were not interested in Brussels, the capital; it’s too big, too busy. Instead, we chose two smaller cities, Ghent and Bruges. These were prosperous cities in the Middle Ages thanks to good trade connections and wool, which lead to weaving, cloth, and famous tapestries. 

But first, we had to get there. It’s a long way from the South of France to Belgium: 1000 km (620 miles), a 12-hour drive. But the train we took arrived in 5-1/2 hours. 

We quite like train travel, especially in light of the crowding and discomforts—not to mention the security indignities—of commercial air travel. 

In comparison to plane travel, it's easy to get up and walk the aisles; there is a bar car selling drinks and snacks, and bathrooms in every car. The seats are wide, there's plenty of legroom, and always something to see out the window. Especially on the TGV (Trés Grand Vitesse), the high speed trains. They require special tracks that have been built more recently, and are routed away from population centers. So, lots of countryside to look at! And in the spring, that means green. 

The French countryside, seen from the train window.

Farmers' fields, mostly. Farms and farmhouses, usually old and made of stone. The occasional village (also old, also of stone). On this trip we were stunned by large fields of bright, intense yellow. Colza, we assumed; also known as rape; Canola oil comes from the seeds.

A colza field. So yellow!

Well, we didn't arrive in Belgium, we were in Lille, in France just across the border. But it took just an hour in our rental car to get to the small town of Halle, and the Blue Forest. (And, we were reminded of why we prefer driving our car: it took a good long time to figure out how all the “features” of that car worked! After a long struggle with the navigation system we realised it was disabled—we didn’t pay the €6-a-day navigation fee. So, we used the maps on our phone, instead.)

Paula had booked us into a wonderful B&B right on the edge of the forest, in the midst of farm country. Our host smiled and said we were in luck! It was the perfect time to see the flowers (but Paula knew it was those crossed fingers). We heard sheep bleating at us as we unloaded the car, and our walk to the forest took us past some impressive-looking Charolais bulls. 

On our walk to the forest... (but not a Charolais bull)

As it turned out, Lynda and Fredric, friends from California, were in Amsterdam, visiting Fredric's family. They made the drive to Halle, and we spent a couple of days together exploring the forest. It was great to see them there, and spend some time together. As an added bonus, Frederic is Dutch; he grew up in Amsterdam, and the Flemish spoken in this part of Belgium is close enough to the Dutch language for all practical purposes.

The forest itself was astonishing: a vast carpet of blue, with tall, thin trees rising above it. We spent a few hours wandering along the well-laid paths, enthralled by the extend to the, er, blueness. Lynda, an avid photographer, and I were constantly consulting one another on shots and sharing lenses (and camera batteries!).

Shifting lights makes the forest constantly changing.

Frederic wanders along a path in the Blue Forest.

A wild bluebell, up close; one of millions that make up the Blue Forest.

Photos don't do it justice. Neither does a video, but it comes closer...

    Ghent

We parted company with Frederic and Lynda, and the next day we made the hour-long drive to Ghent.  Ghent is very proud of its graffiti art. We downloaded a map, and spent a good part of our time tracking down some rather impressive works by local artists. 

Giant rabbits! We walked by these coming and going to our lodgings.

View from the Vrijdagmarkt (Friday Market), traditional site of a weekly market since 1199.
The cafés and restaurants fill what were formerly guildhalls.

Graffiti covers entire walls in some areas.

Sint-Michielskerk (Saint Michael's Church) and Saint Michael's Bridge

New art for old buildings

The impressive post office building, along the Leie river in Ghent.

These extraordinary Ghent graffiti filled entire house walls.

    On to Bruges

The next day we moved on to Bruges, another one-hour drive. We'd planned two nights there; a good choice, as Bruges is a bigger city with more going on. Specifically, more buildings, more canals, more people, and more beer. And, quite unexpectedly, a harp player...

Canals! A delightful feature of Bruges.

We took a boat tour on the canals. Some of those bridges are low...

The combination of waterways and the endlessly fascinating architecture make Bruges a place to wander aimlessly, discovering picturesque scenes and romantic corners

The Grand Place of Bruges, the major town square where people gather to eat, drink, and see and be seen.

The Bonifaciusbrug pedestrian bridge, leading to the O.L.V.-kerk, Church of Our Lady,
which contains a highly-regarded museum.

A bridge over a canal in central Bruges; one of many, providing yet another picturesque opportunity.

Harps

As we wandered among the crowds in the city (and it was crowded!) Paula spotted a sign for a harp concert that was happening in just a few minutes. We're not keen on harp music, but this was a spontaneous find, so we headed for the nearby venue.

Oh my, not at all what we expected! Mr. Luc Vanlaere was not just an accomplished harpist, but also a composer and an instrument maker. He had a large commercial harp on which he played his own compositions with considerable expertise. But his studio space also housed his harp museum, displaying some classic harps, as well as copies of ancient instruments he has constructed himself. 

Mr. Vanlaere lovingly playing his commercial harp.

Here he strums the replica he built of the Lyre of Ur,
an ancient instrument found in what is now Iraq;
 the original (now in a museum in Bagdad) is about 5000 years old.

Luc Vanlaere with his collection of instruments, some original, others of his own construction.

Ahhhh.... beer!

After that extraordinary—and very unexpected!—concert and experience we continued our perambulations through the city. Belgium is popularly known for two products, especially: beer, and chocolate. Their expertise in beer dates back to the Middle Ages and monks finding useful things to do with their time in the monastery. Of course, beer is made all over the world now, but Belgium, and Bruges in particular, has a reputation...

A tiny part of the "wall of beers" that occupies a whole courtyard.
(Should we Americans be proud of that quote from our own Benjamin Franklin?)
Each bottle is unique, a different brew. And, every brew has...

...it's own glass! Yes, every beer is matched with a unique glass.
This public display of beer glasses is not far from the Wall of Beers, of course!

Beer at modern cafés. Two different beers, two different glasses.

Actually, one of those beers was served here,  the Café Vlissinghe.
Hardly "modern," as it is considered the oldest café in Bruges, dating back to at least 1515.
(But still very popular today!)

Chocolate
Oh, and a word about chocolate: while Belgium has a long-standing reputation for its chocolate, we didn't find anything extraordinary here—except the prices at the many, many tourist shops. We suspect that at one time the ingredients and knowledge needed to make chocolate were in short supply... and Belgium had the knowledge and its colonies in the Congo (not too long ago known as the "Belgian Congo"), source of cacao beans.

Now, though, everybody knows (ok, many people know) how to make chocolate, and the makins' are widely available on the world market. So, apart from heavy advertising from the tourist agencies, we didn't find anything special.  (I will note, though, that one shop was displaying "Dubai Chocolate," which is apparently the latest new thing in the chocolate world. So that kinda summed it up for us: these days Belgium is a place you can go to buy Dubai chocolate.)

The Beguinage

About a year ago Paula put an online library hold on a novel  - Canticle by Janet R Edwards - set in the Middle Ages. Coincidentally it became available about a week before our trip and was set in Bruges! The novel involves a woman living in a beguinage, a community for unmarried women who wanted the tranquility of a religious order without the commitment of vows or living in a nunnery.

And the beguinage of the novel was the Begijnhof of Bruges. Which still exists.

So, of course, we had to visit it!

Housing for the beguines (women who lived monastic lives, without taking vows). It was founded around 1244, although these houses date from the 17th & 18th centuries. 

The large central field gives a quiet, retreat-like atmosphere. 
The property has served the Benedictines as a convent since 1927.

We certainly enjoyed our time in Belgium, both the forest and the cities. But it made us realize that we prefer the warmth of the south, the climate of the Mediterranean. Still, it was a lovely visit, one we may repeat some day. Maybe...

We returned to Montpellier, the whole 1000km, by train. That was satisfying… while in Belgium we had a car so we could follow our own schedule. But the "heavy lifting" of the trip we did by train. 

Pre-petroleum, this is how the Belgians got work done. Wind mills, which were first used in the 1300s, were a great boon to the emerging industries of the region. (These original mills date from the 18th century.)

While enjoying the springtime countryside of France, we had time to consider the current world and the new restrictions on jet fuel. And we felt even more satisfied that our transport, the TGV, the high speed train, was electric, fossil fuel free! 

We'll hold on to those warm fuzzy feelings for the moment; this summer we'll be driving to Spain. But that's another consideration for another time!

Minnewater, considered the most romantic spot in Bruges.