Tag Archives: travel

Cordoba and the Forest of Stone (Lynn Kerstan)

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Even the trees love one another.

At one period of time in its long existence, during the 10th and early 11th centuries, the Andalusian city of Cordoba had a larger population than any other city in the world.  Estimates run up to a million residents. It was the center of learning, and a place where Muslims, Christians and Jews lived in accord. Inside the Old Town, surrounded by Roman walls, the Cathedral, the Great Mosque, and the Jewish Quarter nestle peacefully together.

 

"It's a jungle in here," sez Lonzo, utterly lost.

 

 

 

Every which way you look, arches provide passage to nowhere.

 

 

 

 

Marble floors like mirrors reflect the light and the arches.

 

 

 

 

Christian chapels like this one ring the walls of the mosque

 

 

 

 

 

The Christian choir centers the mosque. I am not happy that it is there.

 

 

The Roman bridge, built a couple thousand years ago and still doing its job.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pictures of Ronda (The Dream City) Lynn Kerstan

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A lovely park

Near the park is the bullring and an imposing statue.

The gorge made famous by Ernest Hemingway.

The church is the anchor buiding in the town square.

A statue in the town square. To help resist the heat of summer, most buildings in southern Spain are white.

The view from the other side of the city. Perched on a promontory, Ronda has always been a tough town to invade.

To Dream the Impossible Dream (Lynn Kerstan)

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Giants or Windmills? You make the call.

In a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to call to mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen that keep a lance in the lance-rack, an old buckler, a lean hack, and a greyhound for coursing. —Miguel de Cervantes

On the fifth day of our trip, after a morning spent exploring Toledo, our bus carried us into the dry, windy area of La Mancha. There, large white windmills stood like silent ghosts at the tops of hills, their blades unmoving. Everyone remembers that Don Quixote, fancying they were giants, took up his lance and fought the blades, which he thought were the arms of the giants. He lost. “Tilting at windmills” has come to mean engaging in a useless battle you can’t win but feel compelled to fight.

 

 

A leopard in a windmill. That doesn't happen every day.

Poor Quixote, a retired 50ish businessman, had been reading too many books about chivalry and knights and battles and rescuing lovely put-upon women. He armed himself and set out to fulfill his destiny: become a knight errant. Errant wound up being the operative word. A fictional character created  in 1605, he nonetheless seemed very present as we stopped to visit a windmill used by a local family to sell souvenirs, oil, and saffron to tourists. Our leader, Victor, had called to let them know we were coming, and he assured us the prices were fair. Never on our tour did we have reason to doubt him. Well, maybe the carpet factory in Tangier, but the mint tea was terrific. Anyway, as we left that chain of windmills, we were happy to see another hill on which a few actually in operation. Victor was surprised.

Just call me Dulcinea. Yes, that's Lonzo on his arm.

Then came our “rest stop” at a small, charming complex, the Venta del Quixote, with a bar and much-welcome rest rooms. Don Quixote was there to greet us. He’s invariably depicted as a gaunt, straight-backed, armored man with a lance and shield. We all lined up for a photo op. Even Lonzo, who also inspected a cart that looked very old and much the worse for wear. Somewhat like I was looking about that time, come to think of it.

Any rider heavier than Lonzo would probably collapse this antique cart. I'd have reduced it to splinters.

 

 

 

 

For perspective, consider the size of the tables and chairs.

I’m hoping Pat remembers what these enormous vats contain. Wine, perhaps, because this wasn’t olive oil country. After some time spent at the bar, we got the call to board the bus and off we went. Destination Cordoba, 142 miles due south. From Madrid to Toledo to Cordoba made for a long day, so there was a lot of snoozing on the bus. It finally disgorged us in front of our hotel, where a buffet dinner with wine awaited us. I don’t remember what happened after that.

 

 

 

The Wonders of Toledo (Lynn Kerstan)

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Toledo, dominated by the Alcazar and protected by the river.

Looking at the landscape of Toledo (Spain), it’s easy to understand why this promontory in the middle of the flatland has been inhabited since the Bronze Age. Many invaders have populated and tried to rule the Iberian Peninsula—Romans, Visigoths, Muslims, and Bonaparte’s French Army—but Toledo was more than difficult to attack. Dominated by the Alcazar (an Arabic/Latin word meaning Castle/Fortress) and surrounded on three sides by the moat-like River Tagus, Toledo could fend off attacks by all but the most powerful armies.

Viewing ther city from the other side of the Tagus, I thought I had time-traveled back to the Middle Ages. There are only two bridges, one built by the Romans and the other constructed in medieval times. From this perspective, nothing whatever looks remotely modern. But that changed when our modern Mercedes bus carried us across the river and dropped us at the gate. No busses allowed on the narrow, winding streets of the city, population about 80,000. There was nowhere for us to go but up. On our feet. Yikes.

There were four or five pairs of long, steep escalators, one after the other, all going up.

And then, a miracle. The invasion of Tourist Hordes has dragged one small but vital portion of Toledo into the 21st Century. A long, multi-leveled escalator! Which is probably the only reason I made it to the top of Toledo.

Ferdinand and Isabella

For a long time, it was the capital of Castile and La Mancha and, practically speaking, much of Spain. But in 1492, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella (best known to Americans as the rulers who financed the voyage of Columbus) moved the capital to Madrid, only thirty-five or so miles north. What remains has endured for a very long time. In Spain, the most impressive building in any town or city is usually the Catholic church or cathedral. Or the mosque, or the synagogue, although most of those that were preserved from destruction by anti-Other factions still exist because they were absorbed into Christian places of worship.

 

 

The Cathdral wears the chains of captive Christians.

Despite the banishing of Jews and Muslims by Ferdinand and Isabella, the religious tolerance for which Toledo had become famous persisted and eventually led to a remarkable alliance among the faiths, so often at war or being victimized by the dominant faith at any given time. Holy writings and documents were translated into Arabic, Spanish, Latin, and Hebrew. People came together in common interests. They learned to live  in peace and mutual support. In the picture of the Catholic cathedral, you can see chains hanging from the externals walls. Not a great many nowadays. They were the chains of the Christians enslaved by the then-ruling Muslims until they were overthrown. Was a time when the walls of the cathedral were covered with those chains. Then, in need of metal, the people melted most of the chains for other uses and left a few as a symbol of slavery and its end in Toledo.

El Greco.

The great Cretan artist known as El Greco spent much of his life in Toledo, and one of his finest paintings is the treasure of a 12th-Century  church that was restored and enlarged in the 14th Century. It’s known as “The Burial of Count Orgaz”. Guess who paid for the church’s restoration.

 

 

 

This is only the bottom third of The Burial of Count Orgaz. Above it is the transition to heaven, where Mary, John the Baptist, and Jesus wait for the angels to escort him there.

If only to save model fees, El Greco liked to paint himself and family members into his pictures. See if you can find him and his son in the bottom portion of this glorious painting. Our local guide delighted us with a long, clear, remarkable explanation of the painting, the historical people represented, the symbolism, and the artistic wonders of El Greco’s talent. It was like opening a door to this artist and what we were seeing. I’m so ignorant about art that this was a real treat and one of my favorite experiences in Spain.

Of course, Lonzo the Leopard enjoyed Toledo and quickly became a devoted fan of El Greco. He requests that instead of his own shaggy self perched on a pillar or a doorlatch, I post a picture of Toledo painted by El Greco when he first moved there in the late 1570s. Except for the addition of cars, tourist shops, and McDonald’s, not a whole lot has changed since then.

El Greco, who knew Raphael, Michelangelo, and most of the great Renaissance artists, paints his new home.

 

 

 

 

 

Lonzo the Leopard Unlurks (Lymond de Sevigny)

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Heed my words, Grasshopper, and follow my path to wisdom.

Before I was stuffed in the suitcase for the long trip to Spain, my fellow feline Lymond, Monsieur le Comte de Sevigny, was gracious enough to profer advice about what to expect from  the Can-Opener. Unfortunately, I am not able to scamper to the top of the cat tree or, for that matter, anywhere at all. Nor can I meow a complaint, and being unable to eat, I have no use for a Can-Opener. For that reason, I think of Lynn as the Packer.

 

 

A traveller appears to have forgotten his coat and hat and cane.

My assignment, other than to protect Lynn’s purse from pickpockets by standing guard at the entrance, was to enhance pictures with my presence. Lymond had dubbed me his surrogate, so I tried to behave with the dignity he would have exhibited, even in the awkward and sometimes frightening positions I found myself in. Here, we are in the train station, the one bombed in  2004. Nearly two hundred people died, and 1800 were injured.

 

Pigeons and turtles, the fast and the slow. Much like trains. And people.

Today, there is no sign of damage, but the very beauty of the station and the quiet water garden at its center is a soft rebuke to those who choose violence over tolerance and peace. With great distances between most of Spain’s larger cities, Alta Velocidad Espanola is an essential means of transportation. The acronym for Spanish High Speed, AVE, is Spanish for “bird” and the trains practically fly at speeds of nearly 200 mph. As we traveled by bus, we saw many of these “birds” swishing past us, sleek and smooth. I should like to ride them one day.

 

 

Lonzo on Latch, guarding the door.

Some of my poses were, I’m afraid, demeaning to my species. Here I am plunked on the door latch of Madrid’s oldest still-in-business restaurant. It was closed, but only for “siesta hours.” Spaniard have dinner around eleven o’clock at night, although tapa bars and small cafes serve those who are not night owls. Fast food establishments like McDonald’s and Burger King are very popular, and we saw them everywhere.

 

 

In the land of the broken men, there is only silence.

Other poses meant a great deal to me. Here, I honor those who died in the Spanish Civil War (more about the civil war in a later post), the broken men torn apart, as was their country for many years. The lust for power is a terrible thing. I, who am utterly powerless, have no shred of desire to harm anyone, even if doing so would allow me to run free and wild.

 

 

The Ghost’s Debut (Lynn Kerstan)

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Reappearing soon, wherever eBooks are sold.

Just wanted you all to see, hot off the press, the new cover for the reissue of our RITA-winning Regency Romance novel.

This time we get to use our own title, our own choice of images, our own designer (the wondrous Tara at FantasiaFrogDesigns), and be masters of our own fate.

I love writing historical novels–they never go out of date–but I’m so very happy to be living in the modern era where writers can be publishers, if they so choose. Alicia and I also write for an excellent publisher, so we have the best of both worlds.

Now I have to clean, do laundry, pay bills in advance, do everything that can’t wait until I return from Spain and Portugal, get a haircut, and (Yike!) cram everything I’ll need for three weeks in uncertain weather into a small suitcase and a backpack.

If you want to receive an occasional tweet from me and Lonzo the Leopard (cat perspective is always important!) during the trip, follow @RegencyTwisters and/or @LynnKerstan.

Adiós por ahora, mis amigos, y todos los buenos deseos!

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Throes (Lynn Kerstan)

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Chaos Central.

This is not my workplace. My own workplace is pathetically cluttered, and I am indeed surrounded by piles of papers and books. Chances of finding anything I’m looking for are not good. But somehow I must wrestle order into all the partially done projects and chaotic clusters scattered around in my apartment . . . by next Friday.

I must also wrangle order into my brain, which makes the clutter in the picture look like an amateur. So much to do, so little time, and I’m too excited to focus on any one task. Today I spent an hour looking for my thermal underwear (not needed here in temperate Coronado CA) because Pat (probably in the same crazed prep phase as I am) told me Spain was cold.

Even this post is disorganized, and it’s the last one from me until I return from my trip. Happily, you will be blessed by excellent blogs by excellent writers while I’m gone. The wondrous Kathleen Eagle will be here next week, and my frequent partner in crime, writing, and traveling–Alicia Rasley–will follow with her own version of how we got together and continue to occasionally work together as collaborators. If she wasn’t so funny and wasn’t telling it like it was and is, I might be miffed. Instead, I laughed my head off (Ha! So that’s where my brain went!) reading her account.

Really, one Can-Opener is as good as another. But I'll make a fuss when Lynn comes back, just to remind her who really matters in the place. Namely me.

Meantime, Thea the Wondrous will tend to Monsieur le Comte, who will doubtless miss me for a nanosecond.

While I’m gone, I’ll be taking a lot of pictures and researching my next novella in the Drewe Sisters series. There was one sister, Yvette, who didn’t get her love story told in our first round. What to do? Alicia and I collaborating on one novella? Or draw straws to determine which of us would write it?

And then, miraculously, I discovered an all-new sister that none of the other sisters knew about. And lo, she happens to be living in Spain. What a coincidence! Her name is Lucinda, and presently, she’s a flamenco dancer. The man who wins her heart is a career soldier who made a brief appearance in Alicia’s novella, “Allegra’s Song.” We often wind up writing about characters from each other’s stories. They all lived about the same time, after all, and the military men usually happened to join the 52nd Regiment. It’s our own little world within the larger world of Regency England, where many of our characters wind up interacting with one another in our books. Fact is, they are so real to us that we cannot bear to let them go.

Sorry. Mindless rambling here. Mostly I wanted to say that I’m really excited about my trip with Pat Potter, seeing two countries I’ve never visited, and having the opportunity to combine my three favorite things in the world (not counting  my good friends and my cat): travel, inventing interesting people, and making up stories about them.

See you all in late March, with pictures and travel tales galore. If you’re on twitter, follow us at #RegencyTwisters (me and Alicia). If I can learn how to use my new Ipod Touch, I’ll be tweeting from Spain and Portugal. But don’t hold your breath!

Adios, Amigos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trips and Travails (Lynn Kerstan)

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Lorenzo (Lonzo) the Leopard lounges atop the TV and within easy paw-reach of a sword. I knew from the moment I saw him that he is a born adventurer.

Lorenzo the Leopard (aka Lonzo the Leopard) arrived at my home this week. He’s looking forward to our trip. For the present, he chooses to hang out where the Alpha Cat, Monsieur le Comte de Sevigny, can’t get to him. When they were introduced, Lymond gave him a look that boded no good for the interloper.

This morning, I am at a breakfast get-together at a lovely resort hotel in San Diego. It’s sponsored by Grand Circle Travel, which has the privilege of Pat, Moi, and Lonzo on its Spain/Portugal trip in March. Lonzo came along in my purse, already eager to get underway. As am I! I’ll post pictures and a report… if I remember to take the camera and can stay awake long enough to take notes of what happened. Don’t hold your breath.

Meantime, life wags on here. My buddy Alicia Rasley and I are preparing two “connected” Regency novellas for publishing on-line, and I am learning the hard way about choosing and producing fine-lookin’ covers to go with them. A good thing I got my hair cut on Wednesday. If I still had enough hair to get hold of, I’d be tearing it out.

Seagulls are glorious, viewed from a distance.

Moving on to a whole different subject. Every Tuesday and Friday, a huge garbage truck pulls up near my apartment to empty the dumpster and, as a side effect, sends Lymond underground. For some reason, he is convinced the truck is coming for him. Never mind that in nearly eleven years, it’s never come near him or shown the slightest inclination to do so. Birds, on the other hand, mostly crows, drop by regularly to see if there’s anything to forage for supper. I like crows. They’re beautiful, they’re smart, and I’ve never had one swoop down and snatch something from my hand.

Seagulls are beautiful too. Dunno if they’re smart. But they will ransack a picnic basket or lunchbag if it’s left unattended, and when I take leftover bread to the beach for handouts, they flap around me like invading hordes of huns. No mercy from a gull. Certainly no respect or gratitude for a handout.

Is this a snack I see before me? Come let me clutch thee, before the truck gets here. Macbeth the Seagull

Gull residents of a beachside town know no fear of people. Residents and tourists alike treat them well, so they are relatively fearless. Yesterday, this sleek adventurer showed up at our dumpster to see what he could scavenge. He must have found something in the plastic bag he pecked at, because he stayed a long while, snacking. I expect he’ll be back.

Bad cold here, with much sneezing. Will report at some point Lonzo’s opinion of his new travel company. I figure that if he endured the mailing in a cramped box to my apartment, he’ll do well wherever I take him. And if Pat can put up with me on a trip, so can he!

Quick Note: We’ve had some problems with Comments, so if your very welcome comment fails to appear, be sure that Tara (our sole Techie here) is working to fix it. We love it when you post a comment, so keep ‘em coming.

Beflustered (Lynn Kerstan)

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I'm a leopard, and I need a name!

The choices are:

Lorencio the Leopard;   Lalo the Leopard.   Leopoldo the Leopard.   Lisandro the Leopard.   Lorenzo the Leopard.  Luciano the Leopard.

What's the Can-Opener up to now? As if we need another cat around here!

I, the Can-Opener, am struggling to finish a rush editing job. Later today, I’ll update this blog and explain what’s going on here. Really, it’s not altogether silly business. I do have a purpose.

Meantime, if you prefer one of the candidate names to the others, post in Comments. Hasta Pronto! (See you later)

I’m baaaack. Those who’ve had a chance to vote, thanks! The polls will be open until next Thursday, when my new buddy he is scheduled to arrive. I did forget to include one name on the list. It’s Lonzo, a nickname for, I suspect, Lorenzo. Lonzo means “eager” and “ready,” which is the nature of my adventurous new cat.And he does look eager and ready, come to think of it. But I’ll go with the winner of the poll.

Lymond needn’t be concerned, of course. The leopard will not eat from Lymond’s dish, drink from his water bowl, or use the litter box. I don’t think he can climb the cat tree, or for that matter, anywhere else. But unlike the House Potato feline in residence, he’s eager to accompany me on my travels.

For years, I’ve considered palling with a small photo-buddy. Pictures are more fun with people in them, especially people we know or know about. But there’s not always a likely candidate nearby when I’m ready to snap a shot of something interesting. And while friends keep asking if there’s room for them in my suitcase, well, there isn’t. So I need a small travel pal who’s packable, trouble-free, willing to go anywhere, and cute. There will be plenty of pictures starring me and/or Pat, of course, some of them posted here at StoryBroads. But you’ll also see What’s-His-Name Leopard, who can ride peaceably in my backpack when we go exploring.

Why a leopard in particular? To be honest, I first looked for a Lymond avatar, but could not find any little stuffed Abyssinian cats. And as it turns out, my “Big Cat” trilogy (historical romantic adventures) will be re-released by my new publisher this summer, which gave me an idea. Those are my own favorite written-by-me books, and the first one, out in July, is The Golden Leopard. Writing that story was an adventure in itself, not to mention great good fun. No leashes on my imagination, that’s for sure. So to celebrate, I’m adopting a Golden Leopard avatar and taking him on my next few adventures. With any luck, he’ll be kind enough to recommend the book.

Needless to say, there is more to this story.

Lymond, Monsieur le Comte de Sevigny here, with what the C-O is not telling you. I flat-out refused to accompany her to Spain, even in avatar form. She intends to do research for her next new book, and clearly she needs to reacquaint herself with what was going on there in the 19th Century. I, you understand, am part Scottish and part otherwise, descended from a long line of aristocrats with a French title dating back to the 16th Century. She’s apparently forgotten that in the Peninsular War, Spain allied itself with England, even though Napoleon put his own brother on the Spanish throne. I won’t set paw in that traitorous land. It’s a matter of principle.

Also, far too much trouble to take for a photo-op. This time, let a stuffed animal be the C-0′s shill. I have naps to take.

What a Week! (Lynn Kerstan)

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Our Travel Route. We arrive in Madrid and depart from Lisbon.

Let this be said about Pat Potter. She is an intrepid woman. Precisely a year ago, we were cruising the Adriatic along the Dalmatian Coast. I had booked the trip for myself, and when she learned about it, she immediately signed onto  join me. We had a fabulous time.

Since then, except for a writers conference in St. Petersburg (Florida, not Russia) I have been precisely nowhere. Pat the Overachiever has taken two more trips with Grand Circle Travel, which places her among the members of The Inner Circle. She loses no opportunity to remind me of that. I, on the other hand, am a member of The Outer Fringes, meaning A Travel Slacker. But I’m on my way to improving my credentials with a trip to Spain and Portugal. Not that it will help me catch up with Ms. Inner Circle. She’s coming with me.

This is truly an impulse trip. A week ago today, we were on the phone considering where we might want to go in 1012. The early spring Italy trips were already sold out, and we’d sorta settled on a Danube River Cruise. But the next morning, I proposed Spain and Portugal, and she was all over it like a dog on a bone. By the afternoon, we’d booked and paid for an early March departure.

The Plaza de Cibeles in Madrid. We'll have a couple days to explore this remarkable city.

I do know a little Spanish. I can say please and thank you, “where is the toilet?” and “what is your name?” Also “please speak more slowly.” I can order beer, tacos, churros, sangria, and a margarita without salt. What more do I need?

A wonderfully historical town perched on a hill that's mostly surrounded by water.

The interior of a centuries-old mosque in Cordoba.

For centuries, much of Spain was occupied by the Moors, and their legacy is to be seen in wonderful mosques and palaces. The Romans were there as well and, master-builders that they were, created stone aqueducts to carry water along the sometimes arid landscapes of the country. Many are still there, strong and firm and beautiful. I can’t wait to see all these wondrous places.

As if the mad rush to choose and arrange a trip weren’t enough to make 2012 shine for me, I received other good news as well. My new publisher, Bell Bridge Books, has scheduled the re-release of my own favorite books. Starting in July, the “Big Cat” trilogy (The Golden Leopard, Heart of the Tiger, and The Silver Lion) will prowl the reading world yet again as e-books and in trade paperback (the “large” paperbacks). I am very excited about having these books available again.

But wait, there’s more! The publisher wants me to write the third book of my unfinished “Dangerous” trilogy, abandoned by my previous publisher. I had decided to write it anyway and self-publish if need be, but now I know it has a home. And!! As I began plotting the story several weeks ago, I decided the main characters, an estranged duke and duchess, would go together to the place where the duke’s brother was killed under mysterious circumstances.That mystery is at the core of the trilogy, so high drama will ensue.

You’ve already guessed! Or knew, if you read the first two books. Yup, they are going to Spain! A chance to do on-site research is a gift for any writer, and I am sooo grateful.

Sometimes the stars align. Sometimes, good things gather themselves and shower down on us. Not real often for most of us, but when it happens, it is truly glorious. Even Thea, my wonderful friend and cat-tender, will be in town to make sure Lymond is fed and petted and scooped-up after. It’s not a glamorous job, so I’m really lucky that she volunteers to do take it on.

This has been a really good week. Here’s hoping we all have a terrific 2012!