Postcard from Great BIg Shouty Spaces

Altarpiece, Cathedral, Burgos

I was having lunch at Burgos with a lovely couple from Manchester, England.  Lee and I had met them on the funicular at San Sebastian and a few days later I ran into them again in the Museum of Human Evolution at Burgos -- as you do. They are both retired architects and we were discussing some of the buildings we had been seeing in Spain -- the Museum of Human Evolution of course, the Guggenheim in Bilbao, and the Balenciaga museum in Getaria. All these buildings are new, grand, spacious, vast, shiny, and completely out of human scale. And Steve called them "great big shouty spaces".

And so they are. There is no doubt that when Spain builds new buildings, it doesn't do it by halves. Not to mention its cathedrals, the one at Burgos being a prime example of how you can raise decoration from tasteful, to overblown, to something almost beyond description. 

The Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao

But back to the great big shouty spaces. The Guggenheim Museum of Modern Art at Bilbao, designed by Frank Gehry, is truly magnificent, made of stone, glass and titanium, covering a vast space, with shiny exterior surfaces reflecting the light, marvelous curves and angles, approached from the parking station through parkland and a vast concourse with a Jeff Koons flower-covered Puppy, ensure you are suitably awed and impressed before you even enter the building. Ditto for the central gallery inside, with a vast light-filled atrium, giving onto galleries and a terrace on the river with three very impressive and fun sculptures, and overlooked by balconies at higher levels linked to more galleries, and all around curves that don't happen in either nature or normal architecture. We did enjoy it, and spent a fair amount of time on the terrace (including taking a family photo for someone who was only getting the wife and kids in and was terribly grateful we got him into his picture -- and he then did the same for us). 

Me, Lee and  Jeff Koons' Tulips,
Bilbao Guggenheim

It was just a Matter of Time for Lee

Loved the three fat ladies dancing and the tulips by Koons of Puppy fame.And the Richard Sierra installation The Matter of Time, a series of large steel shapes on their end: curves, labyrinths, spirals you walk into, through, around. But frankly, we could only take so much. It was too big, too grand, too overwhelming the senses, and our brains were quickly full. Maybe we'll go there some other time to explore some more, but at the moment, like after a very rich piece of chocolate cake, I don't want any more!

The Cristobal Balenciaga Museum at Getaria, only 30 minutes' drive from San Sebastian along an absolutely magnificent coast (and part of the Camino Norte), is similarly impressive and similarly overwhelming. Again a superb, shiny, curvy, very modern building, this time as an "annex" to an old mansion, the Palacio Aldamar. Again vast spaces, both inside and outside, and unlike the Guggenheim, hardly any visitors when we were there. The museum is also amazing, and people who don't particularly care about fashion still find it fascinating and beautifully done, with good explanations and illustrations showing why Balenciaga was such a force in fashion and so far ahead of his time. This is I think another hallmark of these big shouty spaces -- organisation, arrangements, displays, everything is done precisely, beautifully, often with infomration at least in English as well as Spanish, and sometimes French as well. (In Galicia in Galician, too -- like Spanish but different.)  Entry fees are reasonable, with special prices (or sometimes free) for retirees: "jubilados" -- don't you love the word? This museum hadn't really got the hang of the gift shop concept yet, and most of what it had was overpriced and not very interesting -- a travel sewing kit tied with ribbon and costing some 5 Euros, lousy pens (by comparison to what we have found elsewhere), etc. I easily resisted the impulse to load myself up with souvenirs.

Entry, Museum of Human Evolution, Burgos

And finally, to cap off this threesome of great big shouty spaces, is the Museum of Human Evolution in Burgos. Burgos is a surprisingly uninteresting, unwelcoming town in many ways, but then it has this building!. Connected to a concert hall/conference centre, this one has the right angles and flat surfaces more common in modern architecture, but still vast and shiny (is there that much glass and titanium in the world?). Again large spaces and lots of clean, white surfaces, straight lines in stark contrast to the Guggenheim, and again an excellent presentation, well-signposted to follow the information that they had carefully curated for best effect. Burgos, it seems, is very close to a series of caves (Atapuerca) where remains of humans and animals from 800,000 years ago have been found. The first part of the museum provides almost but not quite too much information on how the caves were formed, how the remains would have got there, why they were so well preserved, and the history and organisation of the digs, which are still going on (the site is pretty much on the Camino trail in case you want to visit it, which is possible). 

Model of the human brain - not to scale

Then we segue into Darwin and the theory of evolution, along with a mock-up of the Beagle, information on recent variations to the theory and of course how we got from apes to humans, with lots on brain size, opposable thumbs, feet and legs for walking upright rather than climbing, jaws and teeth for eating different kinds of food, etc . Finally, on the almost top floor (floors reached by long escalators), a walk-in model of a brain, to demonstrate the neural network more than the different parts. A shop, where you could buy all sorts of books in Spanish, but I resisted.  Free on Wednesday afternoons and always for jubilados, and reduced price for pilgrims, children, groups.

A surprisingly empty street in Burgos

I spent three days in Burgos, which was surprising in its mostly uninteresting, unwelcoming architecture and  broad, often empty, streets and spaces. I only really started to enjoy it on the third day when I took the little tourist train (so shoot me, I'm a tourist) and met a couple of lovely women from Colombia who are living in Barcelona and trying to get work and stay in Spain. Their English was not as good as my Spanish, and that's saying something, so our conversation was pretty stilted but we got along well and exchanged email addresses. I tried to find out how they could stay in Spain. I think they have Spanish parents or grandparents and are eligible eventually for Spanish citizenship, but I'm not sure. Apparently there is even less work in Colombia than in Spain (where overall unemployment is 25% and over 50% for young people) and the pay is very poor when you can get work. 

And another surprisingly empty street
in Burgos

Then I screwed my courage to the sticking point, as Lady MacBeth would say, and drove from Burgos to Santiago de Compostela (hereafter referred to as Santiago, and not to be confused with the one in Chile), a trip of some 450 km (not counting when Samantha, my Google navigator, led me astray and sent me north for about 20 km). Not really too hard a trip -- autopista almost all the way, very good roads, not much traffic, and the only inconvenience the tolls (and about $60 in diesel fuel).  It wasn't Samantha's fault, but when I got to Santiago I had trouble finding the Europcar agency at the train station, and when I did, of course it was closed, what with it being Saturday afternoon. They could make big in-roads into the unemployment in Spain just by keeping businesses open a bit longer, I reckon. Although I'm sure a Spanish economist could find the flaw in my reasoning.  

My soon-to-be new friends from Coloumbia

PS: About a month after the drive to Santiago I got an email from Europcar telling me I had picked up a 40 Euro fine on the highway. Don't bother to challenge  -- we,ll just debit your credit card. Oh well.

Postcard from a non-pilgrim in Santiago

Cathedral of Santiago from the
Parque de Alameda

I was over a month in Santiago de Compostela and in some ways it felt more like years. Learning Spanish in partial immersion is hard work and tiring so I was always glad to have opportunities to speak English or French. 

Santiago is a small city of about 100,000, and while it has other reasons for its existence (such as a prestigious university) the pilgrims dominate, especially in the old city and around the Cathedral.

Rhinestones anyone?

 What's most entertaining is the number of shops selling pilgrim souvenirs, including walking sticks and the scallop shells the pilgrims carry. Entertaining because it's the end of the journey for most so no need for those sorts of souvenirs -- they should have picked them up at the start of their trip. On the other hand, rhinestone-bejewelled shells on bracelets and necklaces work! Not to mention tee-shirts with pilgrims crossing Abbey Road. Seeing the pilgrims streaming in is disconcerting enough for me -- I wonder how the locals really feel about them. They are reliant on the trade the pilgrims bring, but probably also resent them a bit. 

Pilgrims coming in to Santiago

That being said, I have found the people I have dealt with, predominantly in shops and cafes, consistently friendly, patient (with our limited Spanish) and honest. I doubt that I was ever ripped off in Santiago. Restaurant bills are itemised and while tips aren't expected, they are appreciated. There are a few beggars in the street, some of whom are no doubt genuine. The elderly lady kneeling on a cushion for hours and hours must be genuine. On the other hand, there is another, younger man who takes time out occasionally to read a book! Signs are usually hand-printed but in one case laminated, often setting out why they are in need of ayuda (help). A few have accompanying dogs,but fewer than is common in France.

Santiago doesn't always feel the need to mark all the streets with the street name; on the other hand, much money is spent on keeping the place almost spotlessly clean and tidy, and of course building a great big shouty space just outside of town. The Cidade de Cultura (Galician for City of Culture) may one day be the Santiago equivalent of the Sydney Opera House or the Eiffel Tower, but at the moment it is too far out of town for people to just go there. Week-day bus service is adequate, but week-ends plan on driving yourself or taking a taxi. We took a taxi. It is grandiose, in the same way that other places we have been to in Spain are grandiose, brilliantly conceived but as is normal with buildings that are at the cutting edge of the technology, it is hugely expensive, and has well over-run its budget. Two of the buildings have been put on hold indefinitely, with the holes in the ground looking sad and pathetic. Someday I hope they will complete it and find better ways to link it to the city. 

A budding opera signer practicing
from a balcony in the old city

Spending a month in one town is a great way to really get to know it. I did a lot of wandering around in the old city (called the zona monumental), where streets often narrowed to the point where you couldn't walk with your elbows out without hitting the walls, suddenly emerging into an irregularly shaped square with cafes and occasionally colonnades.It was cooler in the old city than on the usually wider streets in the new city. I lived with a host family and my hostess herself described the new city as ugly. It certainly had little to recommend it, with long blocks of identical, fairly uninteresting buildings, with one outstanding feature which was repeated throughout Galicia: bay windows, allegedly modelled on the back of 18th century ships, in order to catch as much sunlight as possible in an area that gets more rain and less sun than the rest of Spain. At one point, while most of Europe was sweltering with 35C+ temperatures Santiago had highs of 24C. Very pleasant.  

Pementos de Padron

Santiago is in the province of Galicia, and the Galician influence is strong. Many people speak Galician rather than Spanish, and Galician food is promoted. The Galician empanada was always available, but hard to get excited about -- saute together onion and garlic, mix in some tuna, spread it thinly on a layer of dough, cover with another layer of dough and bake. Fish and seafood also were popular, and potatoes. The Galicians were not too big on salads generally, and the most common vegetable I saw was a kind of wide flat bean called judia, cooked for a long time in something that gave it an odd flavour -- maybe vinegar - and ham. The other common vegetable was a green pimento called pemento de Padron, about 4-5 cm long, cooked in oil and sprinkled with salt. Very nice, and approximately one in 20 had a real bite to it. Apparently no way of knowing which one would turn out to be hot. These were usually shared at a table along with the meal. The local cheese was great, and the area is also known for good wines, so I didn't suffer too much.

50th birthday dinner for a classmate

I had enrolled for a month in the Academia Iria Flavia school of Spanish. My classes were small, with 2 others initially, a Swiss and a Russian woman, both in their early 20s. My efforts over the previous year and a half paid off and I placed out of the first level and into the second level of classes, with these two who had already studied there for a month. After a week the Russian left, and a Norwegian woman and a Brazilian woman joined us a week later. 

My mussels, Rias Bajas trip

For my last week we were joined by an American man who teaches high school French in Las Vegas, to mostly Hispanics, and he has found it is useful to be able to talk to them -- and listen to them -- in Spanish. I also got friendly with another Swiss woman, an American from Kentucky whose husband was also walking the Camino, about 2 weeks behind Lee, a German woman and the Brazilian's American husband. We socialised a fair bit and had a good time together, including celebrating the Brazilian's 50th birthday one night, and on 23 June celebrating la Noche de San Juan (summer solstice). 

Fuega de la Noche de San Juan

I took a day trip with the American woman to the Rias Bajas (lower rivers) area of Galicia, and the German woman (who had a car) and I visited the nearby towns of Lugo and A Coruna. After a while we all actually made an effort to speak Spanish together rather than English (which was the other common language). 

My German friend Claudia at Lugo

We had classes for about 4 hours a day, and most weekday evenings the school organised an activity, such as a visit to a museum or a Spanish language film.I certainly had some quibbles from time to time with the pedagogy, but overall I think it was pretty well done, and I certainly made a lot of progress. I discovered how well German is embedded in my brain, because when I couldn't think of the Spanish word or expression, often the German one would spring to mind. In particularly, I invariably said 'mehr' instead of 'mas' for 'more'. But when Lee joined me I was able to organise for him to get replacement glasses and even have a chat with the woman in the shop about places to eat in Finisterra and Muxia, which we went to after Lee finished the Camino.

The two Marias in the Parque de Almeda
with Inaki our guide and Georgia from Kentucky

All in all, I think I enjoyed my time in Santiago de Compostela. Would I go back again? I don't know at this point. I'd like to do some more Spanish classes, maybe there, maybe elsewhere. I have a soft spot for it now, and it was a good feeling when Lee and I came back on our way to Germany, to know where things were and get around. It has a friendly feel about it, and the two times when I came home quite late from an evening with friends, I felt safe walking the streets late at night. That's a pretty good thing to say about a place, I think.