SUmmer 2019 Episode 11 - 3rd July - San Isidro - Catral

Evening. Here we are then at the second weekend of the English Fool Abroad with his Sketchbook summer sketchpedition. It’s Saturday! That’s about the only thing I don’t like about the school holidays – Saturdays somehow become less special. Still Saturday – Sabado – it is, and so let me ask you this. What do I normally do at least once on a Saturday whenever I’m staying in San Isidro? How very dare you! No, not that, I meant we go to the market in Catral.

First of all, though, we passed through the market to grab a coffee and a tostada in a café close by the church, which you can see in the sketch below. The Café Plaza – named after Port Talbot’s sadly dilapidated art deco cinema, I believe – was an interesting place. The coffee and tostada were delicious, but it was one of those places which has led me to formulate a theory, which I am sure that posterity will dub Clark’s theory of inverse volume. Basically it means that the smaller the volume of a café or bar in Spain, the greater the volume at which the locals within it will talk. And there’s a certain type of Spanish chap who is very, very good at speaking at full volume. Every bar/café has at least one, and the Plaza, in its small space, had 4, two in front of me, and two behind. By the time we came out I did feel a little bit like I’d been beaten over the head with a blunt instrument.

Now, just in case you’re starting to think that I’m being unfair to Spanish men, fear not. Now I’m going to have a go at the English as well. I like to think of myself as an equal opportunity critic. A practical move we could take to lesson the toll being taken on John’s feet was to provide some cushioning and protection for him, and so we visited a chemist just off the main square. Now, if alarm bells happen to be ringing in your mind following my experiences in the chemist in San Isidro, well, I can understand that. However, this chemist, being in cosmopolitan downtown Catral, was well used to dealing with British customers. Which was just as well. There was a queue ahead of us, all of us being held up by a senior citizen, whose accent irresistibly reminded me of The Last of the Summer Wine. See what you think about what he was talking about.

“What I want to know is, why are you closed sometimes?” When met with confusion from the pharmacist, he elaborated,

“What time do you open?”

“Half past eight.”

“I was here at nine and you were closed.”

“Ah, well, it’s the summer . . . “ Trust me, that is a perfectly adequate excuse in Spain.

“This was in the winter.” – and so on it went. The poor girl was berated for the fact that they closed during siesta time, and weren’t open the second after it ended, and so it went on. Eventually the miserable old devil gave up – maybe he was starting to feel all the daggers that everyone had been looking at him , although since everyone in the queue was British, we just silently wished him a bout of amoebic dysentery rather than saying anything to him about it.

The market. Right, would you like the glass half full appraisal, or the glass half empty appraisal? The half full appraisal was that there was quite a lot more stalls there than there was when I visited last year. Last year it was a couple of weeks later in the year, and a lot of the stallholders were on holiday. The half empty appraisal was that I just wasn’t really that interested in what was there. Fruit and veg stalls, sweet stalls, and above all else, ladies’ clothing stalls. Now, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that ladies need to wear clothes, and ladies clothing stalls would seem to be a reasonable solution to that problem. But, how should I put it, to me, when you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.

Still, looking on the bright side, the fruit and veg stall did at least allow me the opportunity of  making a Spanglish pun. It helps if you know that the Spanish for spinach (hmm, the Spanish for spinach? The chalice from the palace and the vessel with the pestle come to mind.) – the Spanish for spinach is espinacas. Hey – stop making up your own puns! Jen pointed out the spinach on the stall which was looking very sorry for itself, and said,

“That spinach looks like I feel.” To which I replied,

“Espinackered. “ No? Well, please yourselves.

That, then, was about it for today. Just Sunday’s and Monday’s instalments to go in part one of the trip, good people. I hope to see you then.

August 18th San Isidro - Catral

An English Fool Abroad With His Sketchbook has been out and about a bit again today, although you couldn’t really call it as much of an excursion as the trips to Elche, Murcia and Alicante. We were off early to see John in the hospital this morning. He seems pretty much the same as yesterday, but certainly no worse, and that’s all to the good. While I was there I went two floors down to get John and Jen a coffee each from the cafeteria. Despite distinctly asking for café con leche fria – coffees with cold milk – the cups were so hot that even though the lady behind the counter gave me two extra plastic cups into which I could place the takeaway cups with the coffee in, they were still so boiling hot that I couldn’t hold them for long. In fact, he only way I could do it was putting the two plastic cups together, carrying one cup inside it, and balancing the other on top. Up two floors. You can guess what happened, can’t you? Well. . . you’re wrong. I managed it.

After leaving the hospital we nipped quickly back to the Casa Me Duck to change cars- the Smart car needed filling up, and the trip to Catral provided the best opportunity to do it. On the way Jen took a slight detour behind the station in San Isidro. The reason? To show me the Memorial – which is both behind the station, and also the middle sketch on the page below. I didn’t previously know it, but Alicante was the last city to hold out against Franco in the Civil War. The community of San Isidro wasn’t built until the 1950s, but prior to this part of it had been the site of a concentration camp where Franco put , well, basically anyone he felt like. It’s a very understated memorial – just two huge metal bars, with broken chains connected to them, and a simple stone plaque at the bottom, yet it’s oddly moving.

My ulterior motive in wanting to come to Catral, then, was to take a look at the church, which is the picture on the left hand side of the page below. It’s pretty impressive, but true to form it is in the middle of a square which just doesn’t have enough room for you to make a good sketch of it from the front. I mean, you could do it, but then you wouldn’t get the dome or the tower, which are, to my mind, the church – actually it is a Cathedral, which surprised me – to my mind its best features. We did pop inside. It was very dark, and Jen suggested that we might have entered the Lady Chapel. As our eyes accustomed it became clear that the figures and pictures we had taken to be the Virgin Mary were in fact the Lord Jesus. The unworthy and sacrilegious thought that maybe it was actually the bearded Lady chapel came to mind, and I’m glad that I kept that thought to myself at that time. The sketch below is actually my favourite view of the cathedral, which is approaching it from a side street.

Sooner or later, whenever I stay in San Isidro, I end up in Catral market on a Saturday. I must admit that I’ve never seen it quite as bare and looking quite as sorry for itself as it did this morning. It was gone midday, and some of the traders were clearing up and calling it a day, but it’s also true that a lot of the traders go on their hols in August. So, with little or nothing of interest within it, this left just one more thing. Lunch. Jen suggested Chinese, and who am I to refuse? The fact that I love Chinese food is totally immaterial. Now, you may recall that when I had a Chinese curry in Madrid, I believe it was the medium through which Montezuma extracted his revenge later that night. Well, I have to say that this one, a prawn curry was absolutely delicious. Whether I’ll pay for it later we’ll just have to see.

And that, I dare say, is pretty much it for today. If you’ve been with me this far, you have my thanks and congratulations. We are nearing the end of the marathon – 3 more full days, and then I’m on my way home.

Alicante 14th August

es, the English Fool Abroad with his Sketchbook has been out and about in Alicante today. After yesterday I made sure that all the water I was carrying was still. So was the train I was on for some reason, but what the hell, I wasn’t exactly in a rush, and so arrived in Alicante dry, and in pretty good spirits. Spirits, I should add which rose even higher when I saw signs in the station pointing out that the tram station wasn’t at al far away. This came as news to me. I didn’t even know that Alicante had trams. Well, be fair, I’ve only been coming here for about 10 years now.

Right, just in case you didn’t see any of my posts from Prague, Berlin or Budapest I think I’d probably better explain that I have a bit of a thing about trams. I like trams very much, and always try to take a ride on one whenever I’m close enough to do so. I only found out after I left Murcia yesterday that there is also a tram system impinging on the north of that city too. So there was no way that I was going to miss out today. The trams go quite some way out of the city. One of the lines even goes as far as Benidorm. Well, that wasn’t on the schedule for today, so I contented myself with a very short hop. How short? Well, when I walked between the stations on the way back later it took about 5 minutes. My two stations, Lucero and Mercado, were both underground, and it did actually make the whole thing feel as much of a light railway as it did a tram system, but hey, who am I to point the finger. I was too busy making the sketch you should be able to see with this post to indulge in any gratuitous finger pointing anyway.

Mercado station was chosen because it is at the foot of the hill on which my main tourist objective for the day stood, the Castillo de Santa Barbara – or Barbara Castle as I can’t help but call it. (We will all wait here for a few minutes while younger readers go to ask their elders to explain the Barbara Castle reference). Okay – all back? The Castle is a really impressive building complex, but it has the drawback, for the pedestrian, of being right at the top of the hill, rather than the bottom. Even taking the quicker route by climbing seemingly endless flights of steps, it still took a good 20 minutes or so in the increasingly hot sun to get to the part where the castle actually started. My mood was not improved at all when a tourist bus arrived in the car park about 30 seconds after I did.

Mind you, even if you took the bus to the castle car park, you’d still quite a lot of climbing to do if you wanted to see most of the castle. It’s a shame that they never had escalators in the 18th century when a lot of the buildings were built. Well, at least , when I found a convenient set of steps in the shade on which to sit and make a sketch, I had several people stop to have a look and a chat, which, all joking aside, is something I really enjoy. Which surprises me somewhat since I’m not a very sociable person.

When I came back down the hill, which took about half the time going up it had taken, I went to see the market from which the Mercado station takes its name. It’s a pretty impressive building – late 19th century I would guess. Murcia’s yesterday was pretty impressive, but I’d have to say that this one took the prize. I had about an hour before the whole place would start shutting up shop for siesta time, and so used it to sketch part of the market and some figures. They weren’t all there at exactly the same time, but they did all pass during the time that I was sketching, and so I used them to make the composite scene that you see in the sketch.

I walked down to the Marina, where I had a bit of lunch, and had a look to see if any of the boats grabbed my interest in a sketching context. This was a very frustrating experience. I walked past a shopping centre, and could clearly see what I guess was a replica of an old sailing ship. Actually clearly is not correct. I could clearly see the masts and some of the rigging, and the impressively ornate stern of the ship. But that was all. The view was blocked by some buildings which I guessed were the customs house, and there was no way for me to get a view of the rest of the ship. Frustrating.

It got to about 3pm, and the legs were hurting. I think I should report that after several days in the sun, in a certain light they do appear to be taking on a very slight tinge of pink, although that could just be wishful thinking on my part. I haven’t planned any excursions for tomorrow. It is literally a red-letter day, being the Feast of the Assumption, and a Bank Holiday in Spain. But fear not, there will still be another episode tomorrow , although it will probably be a short one.

Madrid - Day Three

When last you left me I was trying to come to terms with the fact that I’d be sleeping on a sunburnt neck. How did that work out for me? Well, not too badly as it happens. I didn’t notice it frankly, until I woke up at 6. Then it was giving me gyp, you’d better believe it, but never mind, soldier on.

First port of call was actually the Mercado de San Miguel – or St. Miguel Market if you prefer. This is in a renovated Edwardian style wrought iron building, and rather appealing. I made a quick sketch of a guy who seemed to be combining a butchers and a bakers on his stall. That’s cheating, isn’t it?

Back from there into the Plaza Mayor, where I made today’s equestrian statue sketch. Mindful of what happened yesterday I sat in the shade where there was no way the sun could possibly get to me. I’ll be honest, what with the ruff around the neck I thought this guy was Phillip II. Actually it’s his son, Phillip III. Apparently he turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, but then that’s what you often get with sequels, isn’t it?

From there to the Museo Municipal – or the Museum of Madrid. This building used to be a convent I think, and in a city full of baroque buildings, the façade of this one, which I sketched, pretty much out-baroques all of them. I enjoyed the museum itself – and whoever thinks – of course you did, it didn’t cost anything to get in – knows me too well. However the attendants were a little bit, well, let’s put it this way, they really didn’t want you deviating from the order you were supposed to look at things. I earned myself a telling off in Spanish for trying to go into room 8 before I’d gone into room 7. Fair enough.

Not yet museumed out I walked from there to the National Archaeological Museum. Bearing in mind that the British Museum is buckshee, I wouldn’t say that I was overjoyed at having to pay 3 Euros, but if you have to pay, I’d rather pay 3 Euros than 4 if you know what I mean. It’s a hell of a collection, impressive, and it’s a beautifully laid out modern museum. Still, somehow it didn’t quite strike me as being as good as the afore mentioned British Museum, or the Museums on Museum Insel in Berlin which I visited last year. Just my opinion and feel free to disagree.

I gentle walk back towards the hostel saw me nipping in for a wee siesta. Look, I’m 54 now – that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. When I came back out I decided to see how long it would take me to walk to the Atocha railway station – where I’ll be catching the train on Thursday, and also pop into the Reina Sophia Gallery at the same time. Well, just 20 yards away from the door of the hostel I came upon a guy fast asleep, having his own siesta on a bench, while letting almost all of it hang out. I decided he could be my Madrileno of the day – the busker was yesterday’s – and made the quick watercolour sketch you should see with this post.

It took about 15 minutes to walk to the Railway Station – and about 25 minutes to walk back, since most of it was uphill. The Reina Sophia, it transpires, is shut on Tuesdays, so that will have to remain an option for tomorrow. Yesterday, when I sketched part of the Royal Palace, I also wanted to sketch the Cathedral which was right next door to it, but in all honesty it is so massive I just couldn’t find a place to sit and sketch it which wouldn’t have involved me straining my neck. Today though I approached it from a completely different angle, and found a lovely spot, shaded by trees, looking out and across to the side, and I used this angle to make the sketch you should be able to see in on this page.

Now, I know what you’re dying to ask – did you try another Madrid delicacy tonight for your tea? Yes, my friends, I did. Tonight I had arroz con curry – which funnily enough looked and tasted just like curry with rice. What were the chances of that happening, eh?