♫ Man Ray - Sola en los Bares ♫

Está mareada

Su cuerpo quiere descansar, es madrugada

Valladolid vs La Ciudad Dorada ("The Golden City")

The only accommodation available to me on the day of my stay in Salamanca was a 60 Euro hotel, with private room. I had ample time to book an 18 euro hostel, so I seem to struggle to learn from my mistakes. You can also conclude from this that I seem to think I live in a less globalised time in history, when weary travellers would arrive in town, lay a few coppers on the pass, and be guaranteed at least a stack of hay to sleep on and a warm meal to eat. No - because I didn't plan my trip, I wasn't "more spontaneous", or even more "easygoing" - I was just 60 euros shorter, and pissed off with myself.

I spent far more planning time involved in my travel to Salamanca. The day before, I looked on BlaBlaCar, and found a German man driving a camper van from his home in Düsseldorf to Seville. A perfect arrangement - I could discover a little about Van Life™ in Europe, and also get a trip to my destination for 6 euros. It was my first BlaBlaCar in English, and I was teaching my driver Spanish this time. When this happens, the pressure evaporates, and I long to be putting in my hours in the other language. That said, it was very cool to see the inside of how a camper van works. Compared to the experience in Australia, there's far more opportunity to stop in unique towns and cities. Things are just closer together - but the higher density also feels less free, I think. Maybe it's my lack of assimilation, but in Europe, I would feel far less inclined to stop halfway on a highway to take a leak or to get cooking. It's less a matter of fear or awkwardness, and more so that it just feels a little wrong. It's hard to pinpoint the sensation of relative freedom I feel in Australian landscapes.

I love this image, makes it seem like a time traveller put an astronaut on the Salamanca cathedral. Well, they did, but in 1992.

There's also a frog on a head, guaranteeing you'll pass your exams if you spot it on first visit:

The city itself is super bonita, again trumping the very city I live in for design, atmosphere and reputation. As capital of the region Castile y León, Valladolid I think suffers (among other things) from what I can only describe as BIRMINGHAM SYNDROME. It's the centre of a big place, and instead of distilling the best parts of the surrounding regions it seems to take the worst. I still love the place - but if I'm being objective I've had constant conversation around Valla, that it contains pijos (pricks), tiesos (stiffs), that its historical buildings of limestone are ugly against, for example, Salamanca's Villemayor sandstone gold material. The streets alone here are more urban. It must be said that losing myself in the winding alleyways of Valladolid is just annoying, whereas in Salamanca, or better in el barrio húmedo de León, it's somewhat intoxicating. I've heard damning anecdotes about Valla's University too, compared with the actually famous and venerable University of Salamanca.

As for Salamanca, I found it to be unassuming from the northern direction I came from, and was steadily more and more impressed the deeper I went. My encantadora co-worker Susana is from there, of which she is very proud, so I had that in mind. Before I left, another teacher joked 'en Salamanca, lo que no es puta es manca', which translates to "in Salamanca, if you're not a whore, you're one-armed" (this is a genuinely normal expression for me to hear in Spain). The room was in hysterics at this, for I think the crudeness of the break room contrasted against the relative discipline and seriousness of the classroom is always absurd.

Salamanca's plaza mayor is a little smaller than Valladolid's (which was the first of its kind), but it's prettier. At 70m x 70m, you find intricate detailing, a thematic golden glow (especially when lit, both artificially and with the sun), and even in the bad weather I was entranced. Walking down toward the river, passing all manner of old famous buildings I didn't give nearly enough regard, you will find not one, but TWO cathedrals. This is a real rarity I'm told, and they're both of high quality too. The old Cathedral is Romanesque, and the new one a mix of late Gothic, Baroque and a thing called Plateresque, which is to mean *'*in the manner of a silversmith'. I hate to do this, but as a plebeian, Wikipedia tells me "It is a modification of Gothic spatial concepts and an eclectic blend of Mudéjar, Flamboyant, Gothic, and Lombard decorative components, as well as Renaissance elements of Tuscan origin." Jack Loftus blog is a deep well of knowledge! This area was very disarming. The cathedrals are built higher up on a hill, which makes them extra impressive from the lookout point from the river below.

Salamantino sculptor Venancio Blanco´s exhibition Confiar en lo invisible ("trust in the invisible") Empty museum, except for me and the museum guide, yippeeee

Oh, and Bar Capitán Haddock in Salamanca is a great bar for a great time. I think Salamanca is a place I will return to, with better preparation, in better weather, and mood.

Saturday in Zamora

You better pronounce the Z with a 'th' - WE SPEAK CASTILLIAN HERE!
I'm going to get defenestrated when I leave Spain's north and speak with the majority of Spanish speakers. Here is a painting of that actually happening to Bishop Martinho de Zamora, thrown from the top of a cathedral during the Portugese interregnum, 1383.

Painting from 1904, Roque Gameiro.

Originally settled by the Romans in the conquest of HISPANIA, Zamora is of that old roman style and brick. The 'aceñas de zamora', the water mills, are famous, as is the castle. But what will stay with me is the clothing styles on display of the entire region of Zamora. Two tiny old ladies in a clothes store I waltzed into helped me understand the scale of the history. Zamora as a central city, is only one of many, MANY pueblos and pueblecitos, inside of 12 regions. Each region has a distinct style of clothing they historically have used for celebrations throughout the year.

My second highlight was the ethnographic museum. Another museum in Spain that's virtually empty of anyone else, but completely fascinating.

I robbed them for an incredible map of 'mythical creatures of castile y leon' for only 2 euros that now hangs above my bed.

Zamora left a strong impression on me, and I spent 4 hours of it at the bus station. At this point of travel, on 2 hours sleep, I was exhausted. My driver messaged me ahead of time that he needed to fix his vending machine so he had to drive me later. A series of bad decisions led to me having no drivers out of Zamora. There was also no hotel around, my phone battery was dying, it was raining and cold, and the reality of my predicament was settling in. The bus station was thankfully not far, so I put my hope in regional buses going to Valladolid soon - they were! In 4 hours! But that's ok - the travel gods smiled upon me en fin, and I met someone else in same pickle as me. Luana, from Brazil, absolutely saved the day. We met in the middle and spoke Spanish. We sat in all corners of the very very sad concrete station, inside and under the rain. For those tedious hours we passed the time together, but then again it would have passed anyway #godot

This was all like… 4 euros on god. Bar Caballero in Zamora. The bottom dish is morro, which is Galician I believe. Odd sticky taste

Sunday Collingwood vs St Kilda

The 9:30AM football weekly ritual begins.

Saturday night was Sunday morning with Naeem and Emma at Asklepios, another silly night out at the bar that opens at 4:30am till 7am. I promised someone I would attend CHURCH the next day, 11AM holy mass. I went not to repent for the weekend's exploits but because surely a spanish sermon would be interesting? Well, it was in English and entirely weird and I was pissed off at God. Whichever one will do.

Did you know that portraits of men holding palm tree leaves symbolises they were martyrs? There you go.

We are married

Emma is a Tim Tam hater, for which she loses many points, but thankfully a chupito lover like me