LAND OF CASTLES AND LIONHEARTS
There’s much more to Benalmádena than sun, sand and sangria, as Belinda Beckett reports.
It’s not for its zebra crossings, painted a defiant crimson and white or for its ubiquitous traffic roundabouts sprouting bizarre modern sculptures that tourists come to Benalmádena. But these are just two facets of a most extraordinary place that will be recalled by visitors long after memories of its bars and beaches have faded into insignificance. Because Benálmadena is a little different to traditional Costa del Sol resorts, beginning with its unlikely hillside castle, a flight of Gothic, Byzantine, Romanesque and Mudejar fantasy whose ornate towers and spires rise skyward like an illustration for a Grimms fairytale.
The story of the castle is equally unlikely. It was built entirely without plans from a vision which came to gynaecologist and surgeon Esteban Martín, a talented amateur artist and architect who dreamed when he retired of building a monument to the great New World explorers, a period of history which fascinated him. Inaugurated in 1992 by the last descendant of Columbus, a mass was held in the castle’s chapel - listed in the Guiness Book of Records as the smallest in the world - by a priest from Palos de la Frontera, from where Columbus set sail.
The castle took Martín and two stonemasons seven years and many millions of pesetas to build and it was never finished. Martín died earlier this year, his ashes shortly to be consecrated in the chapel, a fitting mausoleum. Today his attractive widow Hannelore sits in a kiosk at the castle gates, selling tickets to the curious who kill time before the falconry display at the Jardin de los Aguilas next door, exploring the strange turrets and courtyards and climbing to the battlements from which the stonework prows of the Pinta, Niña and Santa Mará jut, suspended surreally in mid-air over the panorama below.
The castle is just one of the surprising experiences awaiting the visitor along with the opportunity to spend time in one of Spain’s least spoiled mountain pueblos, stroke a stingray or touch the egg case of a baby shark while its mother swims over your head, ride in a cabin suspended on wire to the top of Sierra de los Castillejos, see what neolithic Benalmádena man used to kill his food with and dine on gourmet cuisine prepared by the Michelin star superchefs of tomorrow. All this from a town that doesn’t even warrant one millimetre of print in the allegedly definitive Rough Guide to Spain.
Indeed, it was not until its award-winning Puerto Marina opened in 1982 that the world really began to sit up and take notice of Benalmádena, long regarded as an architectural afterthought to Torremolinos, even though its history is considerably older. The cooking pots and arrowheads displayed in Benalmádena Pueblo’s fascinating archaeological museum were found in caves surrounding the village and date back to neolithic times. The town is one of the few in Spain to have retained its Arabic name, given in 711AD after the Moors beat the Visigoths in the Battle of Guadalete. Its meaning, “people of the quarries”, refers to the rich mineral desposits of iron, asbestos and ochre which were mined by the inhabitants. After the Reconquest, Benalmádena was made the headquarters of coastal defence by the monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella, as the Moorish watch towers of Torre Bermeja, Torre Quebrada and Torre Muelle still testify today, standing beside the sea like oversized chess pieces. Also fronting the beach, the raspberry pink, neo-Moresque Castillo El Bil-Bil is a newer landmark, built by a Frenchwoman in the 1930s and now the picturesque setting for concerts, exhibitions and weddings.
The coast is the part of Benalmádena seasonal visitors know best but this is a tale of three pueblos, a trilogy of distinct districts linking the elements of air, land and sea. It begins at 280 metres above sea level with Benalmádena Pueblo, a charming Andalusian village with narrow streets, whitewashed houses, geranium-filled window boxes, pretty squares and unlike its bigger, brasher lookalike neighbour, Mijas, not a tour bus or donkey in sight. From here the municipality winds steeply down to Arroyo de la Miel, the commercial and residential heart and continues downhill to Benalmádena Costa, the coastal strip where most of the tourists stay.
Here, the undisputed star attraction is the stunning yacht harbour. Named Best Marina in the World in 1995, famous as the port where Antonio Banderas and his nautical brother berth their boat, it is distinctive for its Moorish style architecture, its minaret-shaped domes so like whirls of Mister Softee ice cream they are crying out to be topped off with a Cadbury’s Flake. The serried ranks of designer boutiques, bars and restaurants are clustered around artificial islands of apartments reached by oriental bridges and there is a Covent Garden style atmosphere to the place which, like the nearby and aptly named 24 Hour Square, never seems to sleep. And like Topsy, it just keeps on growing. The Marina Plaza shopping mall is new, the addition of 900 moorings bringing the total to 2,000 will make it the largest marina in the Mediterranean while its popularity with landlubbers as well as mariners is necessitating the construction of a 500 million pesetas underpass for cars and pedestrians, complete with a further shopping gallery. From the port there are pleasure cruises, big game fishing trips or the chance to fondle fish and confront sharks behind glass at the Sea Life aquarium. And nowhere is there a more delightful place to indulge in a leisurely paseo than along the seafront leading from the port to Torremolinos which is lined with pretty wooden chiringuitos and boat barbecues upon which skewered stacks of roasting sardines creates a heady aroma.
At the most westerly end of the coast, the five star Hotel and Casino Torrequebrada adds a sophisticated touch to the resort, offering good dining prior to a flutter at the roulette wheel and a Las Vegas style show in the hotel’s elegant Fortuna Night club - the perfect excuse to dress up to the nines. Nearby is the 18 hole Torrequebrada golf course, its elegant panoramic clubhouse restaurant popular with non-golfers.
Arroyo de la Miel is the filling in this triple decker municipal sandwich but for those who shun an all singing, all dancing and all British atmosphere it may be an acquired taste. And not everyone’s is plaza after plaza of bars and restaurants touting everything from fish and chips to roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
Tivoli World is here, modelled on its rather more illustrious namesake in Copenhagen, offering all the fun of the fair - rides, live family entertainment, themed restaurants etc. A recent addition at the entrance to Tivoli is the cable car ride to the summit of Calamorro - at 769 metres, twice the height of the Eiffel Tower. Parques Reunidos which also owns Selwo Safari Park in Estepona has bought the operation from the town hall and is building a marine world theme park at the summit. The train station with services to Málaga and Fuengirola is around the corner from Tivoli and in the near future a new monorail service will run from here, providing a much-needed link between Arroyo and the coast. It is one of several schemes slated in the ambitious Project Olympus programme and the baby of the Mayor of Benalmádena, Enrique Bolín. It was he who introduced the barbershop pole colours to the zebra crossings and the first large traffic roundabouts on the coast. Some people who have no good opinion of the country’s drivers believe the crossings are so coloured to camouflage the blood but according to press officer Laura Smith, this is not so. “The Mayor travels a great deal and when he sees something he likes in another town or country, he introduces it here. I believe the colour scheme for the crossings came from France.”
Benalmádena’s best kept secret is its picture postcard pueblo, to which thankfully the monorail will not be running. Here in the enchanting Plaza de España in the centre of a fountain stands the bronze sculpture that has become the symbol of the entire resort, the little naked La Niña de Benalmádena, created by the sculptor Jaime Pimentel. The tranquillity of this spot beguiles the visitor to take a seat for a while under a colourful umbrella at one of the three pavement cafes. But there is more beauty waiting to seduce. At the end of Calle Sto Domingo leading off the square is the little white 17th century church of Santa Maria with its pretty stained glass windows and richly clothed figures of Christ and the Madonna. The church sits above the town on a promontory converted into a mirador which can be reached by panoramic lift from the street below, the metal doors sliding back onto a magical scene, the colourful walled El Muro Gardens spilling down the hillside, at its centre an oriental pergola beneath which, somewhat incongruously, a pool table has been placed. The gardens were designed by the famous Tenerife artist César Manrique in the 1970s at the request of the Mayor - Enrique Bolín again (he has held the office twice).
In this same street is the delightful, three star La Fonda hotel, also the handiwork of Manrique, a cool oasis with Moorish plant-filled courtyards and tinkling fountains. It is also the headquarters of Benalmádena’s renowned catering school in whose gourmet restaurant students learn to prepare and serve Andalusian dishes as they have never been presented before. The result is pure art on a plate. Sink into one of the white rattan sofas with a chilled glass of fino before lunching in the intimate, air conditioned restaurant in the tender care of the obliging Maitre de, Don José Roldán - head waiter at the Don Carlos in Marbella and the Churchill in London before this - resplendent in his black jacket and immaculately pressed grey pinstriped trousers.
The pueblo also happens to boast one of Spain’s most important collections of Precolumbian art and jewellery and there is a perfectly logical explanation for this. It was donated to the village by a gentleman from Mexico, Felipe Orlando, who came to live here and became curator of the museum, a post he held until his death earlier this year. Over the years, he added to the collection with acquisitions from Nicaragua and other Latin American countries. The little human and animal figures that are so typical of Precolumbian style are wonderfully preserved and just one more magical facet of this most surprising of places.
LAND OF CASTLES AND LIONHEARTS
Intro: The autonomous region of Castile y León is the heartland of medieval Spanish history, mission control during the Reconquest and a living museum to the country’s Golden Age. Report by Belinda Beckett.
It is a land of Grimms fairytale castles and grim frontier fortresses, Romanesque churches and Gothic cathedrals, a union of two of the most ancient kingdoms on the Iberian peninsula where the foundations of modern Spain were laid. To visit Castile y León, birthplace of saints, sinners and lionhearted folk heroes, is to take an illustrated journey back in time to the days when Spain was united under the rule of Fernando and Isabel and the court of Castile glittered most brightly; and before that, to a time when kingdom boundaries oscillated between sea and shining sea, waxing or waning in rhythm with the victories and defeats resolved around citadel walls and on barren central plains in fierce battles against the Moors.
It is not a journey to be undertaken lightly as the pilgrims en route to the shrine of St. James at Compostela knew. Castile y León, a union of the two kingdoms which spearheaded the Reconquest for two centuries, comprises nine provinces and spans 94,000square kilometres of northwest Spain. The Camino de Santiago cuts a swathe across the northern part of this vast region of lakes, rivers and golden sandstone cities, bleak meseta plateaux, windswept steppes and sombre forests. These pilgrimages bequeathed the region its rich legacy of Romanesque churches monasteries and hermitages. All nine provincial capitals are historical treasure troves, three are UNESCO heritage cities, their noble architecture particularly fine examples of the passing of styles through Mudejar, Mozarabic and Visigothic to the great artistic renaissance of the 15th century. During those expansionist times the monarchs were enthusiastic arts patrons, endowing their cities with superlative monuments such as the great Gothic cathedrals of Salamanca, León and Burgos. It is perhaps this surfeit of wealth that accounts for a certain haughtiness in the Castilians who also pride themselves on speaking perfect Spanish.
Much of the central meseta is a monotonous treeless plane as surreally remote as a Dalí painting with grain fields stretching to the horozon, battered by bitterly cold winds in winter and baked by blisteringly hot sun in summer. Thus, most visitors try to get as quickly as possible from one grand city to the other. However, the lush route along the Duero River which bisects the region is also much travelled not only because it is home to one of Spain’s top wines - Ribera del Duero - but also because it has the highest concentration of castles in Spain. Among the finest are the pink brick octagonal turreted castle at Coca, encircled by a moat and dating from 1400 and that of Pedraza, a pretty brownstone village almost perfectly preserved from the 16th century within whose castle walls the eight-year-old Dauphin of France and his younger brother were imprisoned in 1526.
The pilgrim route west from Burgos to León is another rewarding experience for connoisseurs of art and architecture. Burgos, home and final resting place of the 11th century war hero El Cid, was for some 500 years the capital of Old Castile, its darkstone old town dominated by the cathedral whose florid filigree spires and pinnacles are among the most extraordinary achievements of Gothic architecture, its castle redolent of its past military strength. Before that, for a brief period in the 10th century, Leon was the Christian capital, its twin jewels the 13th century stained glass windows in the cathedral and the Romanesque paintings in the Royal Pantheon, built in the 11th century as a royal mausoleum and shrine to Saint Isidoro. And there are other attractions not found in Burgos as León is a prosperous and lively university town, as attractively modern as it is ancient with broad avenues fanning out from three focal plazas, Gaudi’s Casa de Botines one of its latter day treasures.
If León ranks in interest and beauty alongside Toledo and Sevilla, so does Salamanca, once the seat of one of the most prestigious universities in the world. This building is one of the definitive examples of 13th century Plateresque art, its facade covered with heraldic emblems and floral decorations. Concealed among them is a frog motif said to bring good luck and marriage within a year to anyone who spots it. The university is still world renowned for its language department and nowhere else in Spain is there such a high concentration of young Americans. With its student population it follows that Salamanca also has a frenetic social scene. The Plaza Mayor, one of the finest city squares in Spain, is the hub of Salamantine life and heaving at fiesta time in September. Largely constructed of its native golden sandstone, Salamanca’s monuments pay homage to another great architectural style developed here, Churrigueresque, an ornate form of baroque. The city’s many other claims to fame are two cathedrals, one Romanesque, one Gothic, various Renaissance palaces and the Casa de las Conchas named after its facade of carved scallop shells - symbol of the pilgrimage of Santiago - and one of the most photographed buildings in Spain.
Staying in Salamanca province, the frontier town of Ciudad Rodrigo, a sleepy walled city full of Renaissance mansions is an out-of.city highlight, El Burgo de Osma in Soria province another, its colonnaded streets overhung by houses supported on precarious wooden props, its ornate Gothic and Baroque cathedral one of the country’s richest. Soria is a modest little capital, home of poet Antonio Machado, with a medieval centre and one of the country’s most unusual set of cloisters, built in 13th century by Mudéjar masons, each side a different architectural style. Some of the most remote and beautiful countryside lies northwest of here in the Natural Park around the Río Lobos.
Isabel la Católica was crowned Queen in neighbouring Segovia in the surprisingly unremarkable church of San Miguel. However the Alcázar, which could have been a model for Disney’s Sleeping Beauty castle, more than makes up for this minor disappointment. This deeply proud Castilian city of warm, honey coloured stone is wall to wall with monuments from its Golden Age when it was a royal resort and a base for the Cortes parliament, among other points of interest its colossal Roman aqueduct.
Moving clockwise to the province of Avila, two kilometres of perfectly preserved 11th century walls enclose the old town. The city was home to the mystic writer and Carmelite nun Santa Teresa whose numerous shrines are a major focus of pilgrimage, Spanish convent school children bused in by the coachload to see not only the rosary beads of the woman they are meant to emulate but also the mummified hand she used to count them with. This was not long ago returned to the town having spent the Franco years beside the bedside of the great dictator... Yemas de Santa Teresa, candied egg yolks, are a delicacy in Avila as is a creamy bean dish made with chorizo and steak - indeed beef and lamb are a speciality throughout the entire region.
Although also possessed of a rich heritage, Palencia, Zamora and the regional capital of Valladolid are the least noted of all their sisters. Despite such illustrious past residents as Ferdinand and Isabella, Columbus, Cervantes and Philip II, Valladolid in particular is not as well preserved having been all but wiped out by the French in the 19th century Peninsular War, while its modern quarter is a wonderful example of highrise urban sprawl. It does however boast the finest collection of Spanish Renaissance sculpture with works by Berruguete, de Siloé and Juan de Juni. And the citizens of Valladolid can still hold their heads as high as their more pulchritudinous provincial sisters for it is said that of the entire region, the most correct form of Castilian Spanish is spoken only here.
The writer Ernest Hemingway was a frequent visitor to Calpe on the Costa Blanca during the 1930s but he is probably turning in is grave at the changes that have been wrought on the Coast since. To be brutally honest, the area has suffered from the worst excesses of package tourism but, as anywhere, there are plus points. One of those is that it’s a great place to live if you’re a northern European looking for sunshine and all the mod cons of home. The World Health Organisation has designated the area as possessing one of the finest climates found anywhere, particularly for people with respiratory difficulties. The Coast has become a serious contender for golf tourism, with nearly as many courses as the Costa del Sol. It also boasts several of the largest theme parks in Europe including Valencia’s mind-boggling City of Arts and Sciences, opened in 1998 (see Theme Parks). And it’s the best place to get a great paella, Valencia being the home of this ubiquitous rice dish. With its modern infrastructure, two international airports (Alicante and Valencia) and abundant choice of new property located near good international schools it’s no wonder it has become a magnet for resident expats – indeed, on some urbanizations you would be hard put to hear Spanish spoken at all.
The green, mountainous northern Costa Blanca, between Valencia and Alicante, is
more scenically attractive than the somewhat flat and barren south. This part of
the Coast has the Jalon Valey, for example, famous for its wine, plus many
delightful hilltop villages such as Altea, whose blue-domed church has been a
magnet for artists for centuries and has become the emblem of the Coast. It also
has Benidorm which could be considered as its best tourism asset or a tragic
blot on the landscape, depending on your viewpoint. This massive resort city
which resembles a Mediterranean Las Vegas-on-Sea offers entertainment of every
kind, 24/7/365. Benidorm has given rise to many other sun-sea-sangria resorts
which pay court to their big sister by sending their own guests on excursions to
discover her fleshpots. These include Gandía, Denia, Jávea and Calpe, the latter
distinctive for a miniature Rock of Gibraltar-style outcrop in the bay called
the Peñon de Ifach. Gandía has a 14th-century Ducal palace worth
seeing and Denia’s port offers the most direct route to Mallorca and Ibiza. The
hilly terrain surrounding these resorts helps to offset the ugliness of some of
the modern building and in between these are some less commercial coastal
pueblos worth exploring by car, among them the aforementioned Altea which has a
seafront town of charm. It is a shame that the glorious 16th-century
Moorish castle town of Guadalest, an hour inland from Benidorm, has been
discovered by the tourist hoards because its verdant scenery and impressive
reservoir are stunning.
There’s nothing much worth getting out of the car for south of Benidorm until Alicante, a thoroughly Spanish city with an elegant Mediterranean flavour. It’s more compact, and less frenetic than Valencia although it doesn’t possess quite the same urban chic and grandiose splendour of the country’s third largest city. But its bars and restaurants offer stimulating tapas trails and, like any city, you can shop till you drop.
The Coast south of Alicante has been developed at an alarming rate but there are some excellent beaches – notably those at Cabo Roig which also has a fabulous, rocky headland walk. Inland from here, Elche is famed throughout Spain for its exotic palm forest and its August fiesta incorporating spectacular mock battles between Moors and Christians and culminating in the performance of a centuries-old mystery play.
Love it or loathe it, the Costa Blanca certainly fulfills that old holiday brochure cliché – there really is something for everyone.
The Costa Brava was once the most beautiful stretch of the Spanish coast. It was also the birthplace, some 40 years ago, of the package tour which spelled scenic disaster for much of the southern strip, resulting in inhomogeneous concrete Legolands like Lloret de Mar, Estartit and Roses. However, in between the ugly architecture, like gold fillings between bad teeth, there are still treasures to be discovered.
The 60-kilometre coastline extends from Blanes to the French border and there is an undeniably French flavour to the northern end. Even the way the locals speak has a ring of je ne sais quoi because Catalan, rather than Castilian, is the language, written on street signs and menu boards and spoken with fierce and unbending pride. Here you are as likely to bump into as many French people as Spanish who come over the border for cheap liquor and cigarettes and to enjoy the relative tranquillity of some of the more low-key resorts, such as Portbou and Palafrugell, which still retain a healthy disregard for mass tourism. The local drink in these parts even sounds French - cremat – a pungent concoction of rum, sugar, lemon peel, ground coffee and cinnamon, served en flambé in an earthenware bowl.
One of the reasons culture vultures brave the tourist hoards to come to the Costa Brava is Salvador Dalí, who lived and worked on the coast. The Dalí Museum in the small town of Figueres is the coast’s star attraction (see Museums). Dalí was born here in 1904 and held his first exhibition at 14, opening a museum to himself in the town’s old theatre in 1974 which he turned into an artwork in itself. The picture postcard fishing port of Cadaqués also as connections with the surrealist artist. A favourite resort with the bohemian set - Picasso, Man Ray, Lorca, Buñuel, Einstein - Dalí and his wife Gala settled at nearby Port Lligat, now a haunt for well-heeled hedonists and crammed with private art galleries. Dalí’s home is as bizarre as his art, a series of converted fishermen’s cottages with speckled eggs embellishing the roof and a giant fish painted on the ground outside. Now open to the public as the Casa-Museu Salvador Dalí, visitors never fail to be taken aback by the phallic-shaped swimming pool and the garden where a giant snake and a stuffed lion lurk amongst the vegetation. There are more delights for Dalí fans at Púbol, near Girona, in the surreal shape of the medieval castle he bought for Gala, now a museum stuffed with bizarre furniture and objets d’art.
Girona, one hour inland from the coast, is an easy day trip and a good antidote for the excesses of the coast. Having been fought over practically every century since Roman times, it features a melange of architectural styles from Roman classicism to modernism but the overall impression is one of great beauty. Girona airport serves most of the Costa Brava resorts so it is constantly busy but its narrow medieval streets and pretty hidden courtyards are surprisingly well-preserved, even though many of the old houses have been given over to trendy boutiques, shopping galleries, restaurants and bars. Indeed, shopping is a favourite pastime among the locals too, who can well afford it as they have the highest per capita income in Spain. Girona also boasts Roman baths that are the second-best preserved in Spain.
Not far from Girona there are many beautiful Pyreneean foothill towns to visit, such as Banyoles with its magnificent carp lake, host to the 1992 Olympic rowing events, and the picturesque medieval town of Besalú. Few people also know of the beauty of the Albères mountains, easily accessible north from Figueres and a favourite escape route from France during the Second World War. Today the area is still a popular retreat for foreigners seeking peace and quiet – a commodity that the Costa Brava has in aces when you know where to look for it.
At first sight it is difficult to see the attraction of the Costa del Sol - the high rise hotels, the cranes and dust accompanying the present building boom, the plethora of British bars. But it has three things going for it - the climate, the lifestyle and its breathtaking countryside. With an average temperature of 16C and 320 days of sunshine a year, a tan is pretty well guaranteed. With good roads, plenty of family entertainment, a ridiculous choice of restaurants and a frenetic nightlife, boredom is never a factor. Other parts of coastal Spain are flat and uninteresting. The beauty of the Sunshine Coast is its rugged sierras. Here, for those who seek it, the real flavour of Spain is waiting to be discovered in lush valleys, deep gorges and sky-scraping mountains where nature runs riot and in remote white villages still living way back in the past.
Picture one of those classic James Bond scenes were 007 is speeding along a winding mountain road in his Aston Martin and you’ve got a good impression of the Costa Tropical. Granada Province’s 60 kilometres of jagged coastline winds through spectacular mountain passes and twists and turns above secluded coves. At one time a somewhat hair-raising way to get from Almería to the Costa de Sol, now there is a motorway alternative, but this is still one of the most picturesque coastal stretches of southern Spain.
Almuñecar, given the name of Sexi by its Phoenician founders, is the Costa’s flagship resort and the rash of high-rise apartment developments has not succeeded in spoiling its Andalusian flavour. Sand has been imported to enhance the grey shingle beaches and the town has a vibrant waterfront life, day and night, its seafront lined with bars and restaurants. The attractive old quarter is dominated by a Moorish castle named after the local patron saint, San Miguel, and a massive tower known as La Mazmorra, originally a dungeon where troublemakers were deposited for life, now a museum to Almuñecar’s 3,000-year-old history. Making history today is Almuñecar’s annual jazz festival, held in July and one of the most important in Spain.
In the rare event of inclement weather there is plenty to divert the tourist – a botanical gardens, a bird park which is home to 120 species, an archaeological museum and a Roman aqueduct. There is also the remains of a Roman fish-curing factory were garum – a kind of Gentleman’s Relish – was made. A more curious sight to the north-east of the town is the “ship house”, built by a retired sea captain as a replica of his own vessel – in concrete, complete with a bridge and radar masts. Although not open to the public, the sea captain happens to own Almuñecar’s Hotel Playa San Cristóbal and might be persuaded to organise guided tours for his guests!
East of Almuñecar, Salobreña offers a more relaxed option for tourists seeking a more authentic Spain. It is an attractive pueblo blanco (wite town) tumbling down slopes dotted with almond and custard apple trees and planted with sugar-cane, two kilometres from the sea but connected by a regular bus service. Flanking Almuñecar on the western side is the fishing village of La Herradura which has a delightful beach and crystal clear water for swimming.
In the cultural triangle that comprises Madrid’s magnificent Prado, Reina Sofia and Thyssen-Bornemisza museums there are more art masterpieces than in any other square mile on earth. However, this is a city to be experienced out of doors (but beware of the crazy driving!) The vibrant madrileños are the key to the capital’s attraction, whether hanging out at pavement cafes, jostling for bargains at the Sunday flea market, shopping to dropping point along the Gran Vía or playing hard and late into the night in the city’s tabernas, tascas and discobars.
An exhilarating city at the best of times, there will never be a more exciting time to visit Madrid than now, when it is on the shortlist to host the 2012 Olympìc Games. Its art museums are adding extensions, the new airport is taking shape, better metro, rail and motorway links are being put in place. After the pall that hung over the city in the aftermath of the 3/11 Madrid bombings, there is optimism in the air.
Discovery of this seductive city should begin at its heart, in the magnificent, marble-paved and arcaded Plaza Mayor, built in 1620 and a witness to bullfights, public hangings and royal parades. Its cafes are perfect for watching the world go about its business under a Velazquez sky that brings to mind the old Madrid saying “De Madrid al cielo…” (from Madrid to heaven) suggesting that, after Madrid, only paradise would compare favourably.
Not that the city is perfect. Being 300 kilometres from the sea on a 650-metre high plateau, it is said to have three months of winter (invierno) and nine months of hell (infierno) in summer when the vast majority of madrileños flee to the coast. However at this altitude the air tastes as crisp and clean as wine, no matter what the air pollution figures say.
Nor do Madrid’s buildings have the architectural greatness of Toledo, Salamanca and Granada. However its fabulous collection of old masters, started by Felipe II in the 16th century and kept up by wealthy patrons, has assured it a place in art history.
Its main sights occupy a walkable area between the Royal Palace and the magnificent formal gardens of El Retiro. A palace tour is essential, if only to see the ornate royal suits of armour and unrivalled collection of weapons. With 2,000 rooms, more than any other palace in Europe, it took 26 years to build and has not been inhabited by the Royal family since Alfonso XIII was exiled in 1931. Nearby is the Almudena Cathedral where Crown Prince Felipe married TV journalist Letizia Ortiz last year. The Royal Opera House, the Botanical Gardens, the theatre district around Plaza Santa Ana, the red light and gay district of Chueca, the Cibeles fountain - always the scene of celebrations for Real Madrid fans - the traffic jams along the Gran Vía – these are what make Madrid what it is. And the social scene. There is so much going on. The weekly Guía de Ocio details what, where and when: theatres, concerts, fiestas, ferias – each of Marid’s barrios has its own entertainment. Or make your own in one of the numerous cervecerías (beer halls) marisquerías (seafood bars) and barras de copas (cocktail lounges). The restaurants offer every imaginable style of Spanish and foreign cuisine – Basque and Castilian, Tex Mex and Argentinian, Indonesian and Japanese. Seafood is distributed fresh daily from Mercamadrid, the second largest wholsale fish market in the world, after Tokyo’s.
After dark, check out the bars and discos around Metro Sol and Santa Barbara – Amnesia, Pachá, or Boccaccio, an all-nighter that doesn’t close till midday. Who cares about manaña por la mañana (tomorrow morning). This is a city that never sleeps.
I remember one of my mother's snootier neighbour's once spreading out a map to show us where she was going on holiday that year. "Ah, Spain," my mother nodded knowingly. "No, not Spain," retorted her friend, somewhat miffed. "Marbella dahling. There's a world of difference." And so there is. For reasons which mainly have to do with vast amount of money, Marbella has always remained aloof from other resorts in coastal Spain. Sandwiched between Fuengirola and Estepona like the foie gras filling between two slices of Hovis, even the people are called Marbellí instead of Spanish or foreign.
Marbella begins where Calahonda ends and just to make sure no one associates the select, millionaire's playground with this other, somewhat twee resort upon which that cheap and nasty Eldorado soap series was based, the grey crash barriers on the main road are painted blue and white in the colours of the (ex) town Mayor's political party. Welcome to Gil'sville. Or Gil y Gil'sville, to be precise, the double surname in keeping with Marbella's reputation for regarding over-the-top as minimalist.
Not in Marbella do the hoi polloi slop around in crumpled shorts, baggy T- shirts and flip-flops from Tesco Home and Wear. Marbella's paseo marítimo, a fashion catwalk lined with succulent palms and beach showers sculptured in the shape of elephants, is trodden by beautiful people sporting sunglasses by Rayban, sandals by Dolce & Gabbana and a pashmina in cooler months to keep out the chill, insouciant of the number of rare Himalayan goats which have frozen to death sacrificing their coats on the altar of high fashion.
The shops in Marbella could have been expressly designed for the man or woman who has everything: Cartier keyrings, handbags shaped like croissants, watches whose price tags give new meaning to not being able to afford the time of day, and giant modern art paintings that discriminate against anyone who hasn't got a home at least the size of the Tate Gallery. (Indeed, only the Tate would take them, looking as they do as if someone has thrown up over the canvases and then ridden a bicycle over them.)
Here, where furniture stores (called Casas de Decoración) stock armoires (cupboards) jardinieres (flower pots) and kilims (Indian prayer mats that look as if they have seen better days), you could quite easily blow several million euros before you get round to buying the house. Talking of which, no one has anything so vulgar as an apartment here, unless it's to let out to the poor for a profit. A villa or a penthouse is de rigeur, or if push comes to shove, a townhouse - so long as it's bijoux. Even the boutique sales assistants are beautifully tailored in Dior and Chanel, all the better to persuade you that the little pink number is an absolute must, even if the 500 euros which you thought you might run to, turns out only to refer to the belt.
In this modern-day Babylon you can have a mosaic copy of a Titian or The Rape of the Sabine Women rampaging over your patio, a jacuzzi with solid gold taps, a diamond tattoo on your tooth or a trompe l'oeil door in your wall so realistic you are in danger of walking slap bang into it after a few bottles of Bollie. But don't worry, if you bust your nose there are plenty of people who'll fix it for you. Marbella is coming down with dashing cosmetic surgeons all ready to bundle you into their clinics and have you lifted, tucked and liposucked, collagen infused and silicone implanted, or alternatively, your face can be given a shot of Botox - derived from a bacteria that, in other circumstances, causes food poisoning and nerve paralysis. There are no end, either, to the alternative health centres offering everything from Sugaring to Colonic Irrigation, nor to the beauty parlours proposing to extend your locks and sculpt your nails like Cruella Deville's.
Marbella is a town for ladies who lunch and here, the restaurateurs take the view that life is never too short to stuff a mushroom. In fact, if it was possible to insert Paxo into a corn kernel they'd probably try, so competitive are they to stay hip to the trends. This year, crossover cuisine is all the rage. As a change from fish and chips why not try carpaccio of salmon and sushi of Japanese grouper served on a bed of rocket leaves with basmati rice and a tomato coulis (Heinz ketchup by any other name).
But as the "season" approaches, a socialite's thoughts turn to parties. In Marbella they are legendary. During July and August the glitterati will be turning conspicuous consumption into an art form. Some hostesses have the decorators in for weeks transforming their homes into something resembling a Spielberg film set. Legs will be tanned and waxed, tuxes and frocks ordered from Armani and Versace, Ferraris hired for 1000 euros a night and the “moi moi” air kissing ritual begins. Married couples will work the room, seeking greater social status or a lucrative business deal; singles will be looking for a suitable mate; predatory divorcees will spend the night on the prowl for frog-faced men who really are princes. Barons and billionaires, celebrities, social climbers, oil-rich Arabs, Hola Hassans and hangers on will be dancing ‘til amour or a hernia carries them home to monogrammed silk sheets. They still talk about the do given by the Belgian royal with a sharp sense of humour who thoughtfully provided door-to-door transport for his booted, suited, elegantly gowned and tiarad guests - donkeys. Before his arms dealings became an embarassment people could no longer brush under their Ispahan carpets, Adnan Kashoggi was king of the social castle and once flew in half of Paris’s red light district for a bash on his yacht at Puerto Banús at which every available “professional lady” wore a discreet feather.
The last time I went to Puerto Banús I couldn't find a bar with a clean toilet. That's the trouble with Marbella, It's all a big, frothy facade. Underneath the glitz and razzmatazz, what have you got but a town that built its reputation on being the biggest front for money-laundering since a prostitute's cleavage and until recently, had a Mayor who had to report to the police station once a week like some small-town delinquent.
It is said in the smoke-filled cafés of San Sebastian that when the farmer and the fisherman sit down for a game of mus, their character traits are written in the way they play their cards. Brought up with a quiet respect for nature and the certainty of the changing seasons, the farmer is cautious. The fisherman, used to casting his fate to the four winds that buffet one of the world’s most unforgiving oceans - Biscay - bets like a madman.
If climate and environment can influence the character of a people, then this green, temperate, mountainous region rising up from the Cantabric Sea has certainly shaped the identity and way of thinking of the inhabitants of Euskal Herria - the Basque Country, a region with a language and culture all of its own. If the hotter climes of southern Spain with its African palms and sparkling Mediterranean can produce an extrovert, easy going Andalucian, then the more serious, reserved nature of the Basques has been fashioned by this land of mild summers and cruel winter seas. In high season, the yellow, crescent beaches of San Sebastian are almost obliterated by a patchwork collage of tourist parasols, while in winter these same sands are often lashed by gunmetal grey waves which hurl themselves against the foothills of the encircling mountains as if intent on washing the screeching seagulls from their clifftop eyries.
The undisputed queen of the Basque resorts, Donostia as San Sebastian is known in the local language, is a picturesque beach resort lying north of the jagged Pyrenees between the frontiers of France and Spain. In centuries past it was the favourite summer haunt of the Spanish court. Today it is popular with inland city dwellers seeking a retreat from the stifling heat of July and August.
Hugging the bay of La Concha, the old town and harbour sit back on an isthmus between the mainland and the wooded slops of the three mountains which encircle it - Igeldo, Ulía and Monte Urgull - a scaled down version of Rio’s sugarloaf mountain crowned by a 16th century caste and its own statue of Christ, his head scraping a sky of fast-moving clouds pushed by the north west wind, his hands outstretched as if in supplication to the forces of nature and blessing for the small craft bobbing far out on the horizon.(Urgull crowned by the 16th century Mota Castle). In contrast to the arid scrubland of southern Spain, here the hills are as green as any in England, dotted with Basque farmsteads and peacefully grazing cattle while in place of the white pueblos of Andalucía are Swiss chalet style cottages with wooden shutters and smoking chimneys from which the visitor half expects Heidi to emerge, yodelling, in full national costume.
Far below, the old quarter is the throbbing heart of San Sebastian, enlaced with cramped and noisy streets, the Plaza de la Constitución, known locally as La Consti, at its heart. The numbers on the balconies of the buildings around the square refer to the days when it was used as a bullring. In this mini metropolis, tourists congregate in the evenings on a tapas trail of the small bars, to shop in the boutiques or head down to the waterfront where fresh shellfish is sold from stalls, sardines grill in charcoal-heaped boats along the beach and restaurants serve traditional delicacies like Merluza a La Vasca - hake cooked in a boukllon of tomatoes, potatoes and fresh herbs.
Much of the original architecture destroyed in 1813 when the town was burned after Anglo Portuguese troops took it from the French in the Peninsular War whe
San Telmo Museum was originally a monastery for the Dominican Order during the 16th century and is being enlarged to recompile the complete history of Basque culture, currently a fascinating jumble of folklore and artowrks.
The gaudy baroque basilica of 18th century Santa Maria is the main church although the oldest building in San Sebastian is the more elegantly restrained church of San Vicente, built in the first half of the 16th century in Gothic styleTourism, waothe main yellow crescent beach of La Concha overlooking Biscay an impenetrable mass of toasting flesh in July and August, and beyond in the bay, Isla de Santa Clara - a boat leaves from the port very half hour in summer - ideal for a picnic. Ondaretta is a continutation of the same strand beyond the roxcky outcrop which supports the Palacio Miramar, one-time summer residence of the Spanish royal family and the residential heights beyond, known as La Diplomática because of the number of Madrid’s best families who holiday here.
San Sebastian is a walking city with wide tree-lined boulevards which line the banks of the River Urema with its three elegant bridges - the addition of a fourth soon to ease traffic problems in the centre. That walk may lead the visitor into the pedestrianised streets of the old quarter, along the Paseo Nuevo leading to the harbour for an inhalation of bracing sea air or along woody-perfumed nature trails snaking up through the city’s hilly backdrop.
Although it is now trying hard to be chic, San Sebastian has for decades been the quintessential family resort. Its theme park at the top of Monte Igueldo, reached by funicular railway, has been offering children Swiss mountain rides and helter skelter fun since 1912. However in more recent time, the capital of Guipúzcoa province (one of four provinces in Spanish Basque Country and three in France ???) has been reinvesting in its future. There is much regeneration of the town - the modernised aquarium with its spectacular transparent oceanarium is now rated alongside the best in Europe, the vast seafront boulevard has been remodelled along with many of the parks and gardens, a new market offers a mixture of traditional and modern shopping, San Sebastian’s bullfighting tradition has been restored with the opening of a covered arena at Illumbe while the downtown area presents a clean and futuristic city scape enhanced by such avant garde structures as the congressional palace, an artwork called Moneo’s Cubes, designed by Rafael Moneo, winner of the Pritzger prize for Architecture and, in contrast, its neo-Gothic Buen Pastor cathedral. A hands-on science museum is being built, the renowned San Sebastian sculptor Eduardo Chillida is creating an open air museum to exhibit his world famous works while, beyond the city, Mount Urgull has been made into a cultural and leisure circuit with new paths and nature trails.
This push to regenerate tourism - these days more important than its other its key industries of fishing, cement manufacture, metallurgical products, beer and chocolate is partly to compensate from the damage done by the Basque separatist group ETA whose terrorist activities have been widely catalogued in the media. Tourist guides dodge the issue but perhaps it is necessary to understand the history of this people who have jealously guarded a strong spirit of individualsim ever since they were first granted a charter of rights and privileges - fueros - in the 12th century by Sancho the Wise of Navarre in the 12th century. They lost those rights in the 1800s series of civil wars, while later Franco sought to outlaw all the different lingusitic minorities in Spain with total Castillianisation of the Catalan, Galician and Base languages. Basques or Euskara, spoken by around 1 milion people in northern Spain and southwestern France. A language which has mainted its distinctiveness from Castillano throughout 2 millenia, the ony language remaining of those spoken in south west Europe before the Roman conquestS - like the believe they are a race apart. After his death King Juan Carlos established a system of autnmous region that restored the fueros in spirit, though not in detial, hence the present problems.
It has a great tradition for sports and huge capacity for organising important events such as the beginning of the Tour de France (1992), the European Junior Athletic Championship and Wolrd Cycling Championship and
one of the most spectacular developments is the Olympic stadium and football field - the Anoeta Sports Complex, with seating for 30,000, , has a covered velodrome or cycle track, two sports pavilions, ice skating rink, indoor pool,. September is a good time to see fringe sports such as loc cutting and rock lifting, the trawler regattas while jai alai is played ll year round on the pelota courts at Anoeta.
hosts an international festivals of jazz in July, classical music in August, also the month of the huge fireworks festival, a film festivall and the national regatta in September, with more regattas on the Feast of Saint Sebastián on January 20th
Embraced by three mountains - Urgul with its anciend castle, Igeldo with uits amusement prt, Ulía with its sheer cliffs, - Urgull can be reached on foot, second by funicular, third by car or foot. Industrial development changed things, czm
These are a people wjho have initial reserve with strangers, a passion for challenge and competition - the belief in being the best - sports
City of the Four Cultures
Both the bustling modern city where the artist Goya served his apprenticeship and the province with its lush countryside, broken by Moorish hilltop towns, is the gateway to northeast Spain every traveller should pass through at least once in their lifetime. Report by Belinda Beckett.
Most visitors to the city of Zaragoza gravitate to the Plaza del Pilar, the central, pale stone square which was remodelled only a decade ago but which encapsulates in the magnificent buildings surrounding it, the history of the provincial capital.
It is a story told more vividly than words in a guide book ever can, by the crumbling remains of Roman walls, by brilliantly restored Gothic Mudejár and Renaissance architecture and through the works of one of Spain’s greatest artists, Francisco Goya - Zaragoza’s most famous son.
The former capital of the ancient kingdom of Aragon is two thousand year old, shaped by the Romans, Moors, Jews and Christians who conquered or occupied it, giving rise to its pseudonym - City of the Four Cultures, the slender Gothic Mudejár church spires and noble towers which typify the region a reflection of the harmonious union between Moslem and Western architecture. Almost destroyed in the Peninsular War when Napoleon’s troops blockaded the city, a new Zaragoza has risen out of the ruins, based on the French style of urban development with wide treelined boulevards and large squares, the stylish shops and bars at its heart radiating an air of prosperity. Dominating this modern bustling scene is the spectacular Ajafería Palace, second only to the Alhambra in Granada in terms of magnificent Moorish architecture.
Throughout its long history, Zaragoza has always been a natural stopping off point for travellers journeying to north east Spain, a city divided in two by the great Ebro river which is omnipresent throughout the province and has become a symbol of its identity. Zaragoza province lies in a fertile basin bounded by the Pyrenees to the north and the Iberian mountains to the south. Known as the granary of Spain from Roman times, it takes its name from the emperor Caesar Augustus who founded the capital in 24BC and in the old part of the city some of the original Roman layout - a theatre, sewage system, paving, walls and the remains of magnificent mosaics - can still be seen, an indication of the great importance the colony once had.
Conquered by the Moors in 714 who renamed it Saragusta, their four centuries of rule left behind many testimonials to Islamic culture, the greatest of which is the Ajafería Palace. Predating the Alhambra in Granada, it was built in the mid-11th century during the time of the Beni Kasim dynasty when Moorish Spain was dominated by independent rulers. A tiny and exquisite mosque and the intricately decorated Patio de Santa Isabella are its main claims to artistic fame. Much was added later under Christian rule including the Grand Staircase, built in 1492 when the palace was used by the Reconquista kings of Aragon. The staircase leads to a succession of mainly 14th century rooms remarkable for their carved ceilings, the most beautiful being the Throne Room which has recently been restored. Since 1987 the Aragonese parliament has met here, adding to the building’s prestige.
Architecturally speaking, the second most important reason for visiting Zaragoza is the Basilica de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, one of Spain’s most revered religious buildings. The magnificent 16th century alabaster reredos sculpted by Damien Forment are its pièce de resistance. The basilica is named after the central pillar upon which the Virgin is supposed to have appeared before Saint James the Apostle. In the 17th century it was turned into a shrine with huge corner towers and a central dome surrounded by ten brightly tiled cupolas. Here too can be seen the original sketches made by Goya and Velázquez for the decoration of these domes Over the ensuing years, thousands of pilgrims have lined up to touch what is now a specially designated section of the pillar and which is quite worn away. Zaragoza’s most important festival in honour of the Virgen del Pilar is held during the second week of October when much of the province closes down for days and nights of merrymaking punctuated by jota dancing, bullfights and colourful street processions.
The basilica is not the only dominating feature of the Plaza del Pilar, Zaragoza’s urban heart. Next to it stands the old Gothic-Mudéjar La Seo cathedral with its gleaming facade and elaborate, geometrically patterned walls. In between these two buildings and in total contrast rise the elegant Ionic columns of the Lonja, the 16th century Renaissance exchange house which is used for art exhibitions today.
Art is of course another reason why people come to Zaragoza, the city where the 18th century artist and etcher Goya served his apprenticeship before he became court painter to Charles III. He was born in Fuendetodos, a village 24 kilometres southeast of the capital which has a little Casa Museo fitted out with period furniture and dedicated to the artist’s life and work. The majority of his prints are on permanent view in the capital at the Museo Camón Aznar, named after one of the most distinguished scholars of Spanish art and housed in the stunning Palacio de los Pardo. The Museo de Zaragoza, also in the city centre, houses more of Goya’s works.
Those who thirst for greater knowledge of the artist’s work can continue the Goya trail to the Carthusian monastery of Cartuja de Aula Dei, 12 kilometres north of the capital where in 1774 he painted a series of eleven murals depicting the lives of Christ and the Virgin and which were restored after the Napoleonic invasion. These are regarded as some of his early masterpieces. Further north, the hermitage of Nuestra Señora del Fuente houses some of his early frescoes of the saints.
A route northwest from Zaragoza leads to las Cinco Villas - the Five Towns - named by Felipe V for their services in the 18th century War of Succession. These are little pueblos set in beautiful, rural countryside, the most famous being Sos del Rey Católico, birthplace in 1452 of Spain’s most famous monarch, Ferdinand II of Aragon. Its narrow cobbled streets are lined with grand mansions, the grandest of which is the Palacio de Sada where Ferdinand is reputed to have been born.
South from here, Tarazona which promotes itself as the Aragonese Toledo, Calatayud and Daroca are fine examples of Mudejár hilltop towns, each a fascinating maize of streets and alleyways.
Those who find their culture more palatable with a little liquid refreshment should head south of the capital along the Ruta del Vino. There are vineyards throughout Aragon but the best wines - robust reds and fruity whites - come from this area. The town of Cariñena has several bodegas where visitors can sample wines, buy bottles or fill their own for a handful of pesetas from huge barrels containing vino de mesa.
Alternatively, the visitor can remain in the city and enjoy all the sybaritic pleasures that this vibrant provincial capital has to offer. Zaragoza’s pubs, tapas bars and many of its restaurants are concentrated in the old quarter. The Casa Lac, with its atmospheric dark wood interior is said to be the oldest working restaurant in Spain. Gourmets head for Los Borrachos in the south of the city, a classic Zaragoza restaurant specialising in game. The cuisine of the region, like its wines, tends to be simple but fortifying such as pollo a la chilindron - a spicy chicken casserole, while borraja (borage) is a vegetable popularly served here although little know in the rest of Spain.
Afterwards, it all happens in El Tubo, the name given to the district of music bars and clubs just south of the Plaza del Pilar which has become the hub of the city’s nightlife. Flamenco, Irish, Britpop, folkloric, funk, acid jazz, blues, comedy, old tyme music hall - it’s all here, a tumultuous reminder that two thousand years on in this cosmopolitan city, some things haven’t changed and people of diverse cultures still live together here in a chaotic kind of harmony.
Sol y Nieve: The Ski’s Not the Limit
Intro: Alpine ski through the mountains in the morning, water ski from the beach in the afternoon has always been the claim to fame of Sol y Nieve in Spain’s Sierra Nevada, Europe’s sunniest ski resort and this year it is set for the busiest season yet. Just over two hours by car from Marbella, if your fancy is to slope off for a few days - and nights - on the piste, there’s no other resort to come near it. Report by Belinda Beckett.
The très snob of winter sports used to turn up their Gucci snow-visored noses at the very mention of its name. But Sol y Nieve is about to come right into vogue. With the new reluctance to travel by air, Spain’s southernmost winter sports resort is geared up to welcome an avalanche of designer-clad nationals who might otherwise be pointing their (look up ski makes) skis in the direction of Gstaad, Zermatt and St Moritz.
The ski station is as recent an invention as 1964, indeed at one time only fools and mules attempted to scale the peaks of the Sierra Nevada in winter - the neveros who transported ice blocks by donkey to Granada in the days before refrigeration. There wasn’t a road at all until the 1920s and that remained little more than a cart track until 1966/1996?? when the opportunity to host the World Alpine Ski Championships finally bestirred the authorities to transform it’s 28 kilometres length into a three lane highway. Some 2,100 metres above sea level at its summit, it is now on record as the highest road in Europe.
Today the region’s High Performance Athletic Training Centre, known as the CAR, is world renowned, having hosted hundreds of top professional athletes who have used its state of the art facilities to hone their bodies and test their fitness to the limit. This year, its slopes will be the glittering arena for some 20 major competitions ranging from the Ballantine’s Snowboarding Trophy and the 27th International Airline Pilots Tournament in January to the 28th National Alpine Ski Veterans Trophy in April, with events encompassing everything from ski biking to giant slalom and ski jumping.
Winter transforms the Sierra Nevada, the rugged mountain backdrop to Granada which was designated a national biosphere park in 1996/1999 and which in summer is a nature lover’s paradise, the mountains ablaze with the colour and heavy with the scent of 2,000 species of flowers, many of arctic-alpine origin. Sol y Nieve, just on the outskirts of the national park, is not pretty and until now it wasn’t chic, but it has one huge advantage over the more shishi, picture postcard ski resorts of Switzerland and Austria. Those are, as the name implies, sun and snow, although whoever christened it may have been an optimist and in the bad old days before artificial snow, the start of the season was in the lap of the Gods - a case of trusting to luck or lighting copious candles to the Virgin Mary. These days, thanks to huge investment in an artificial snow-making system, her intervention is not so crucial. In fact even in the event of no snow at all, the resort can still open at the end of November because it has 338 canons capable of producing well over 2,000 cubic metres of snow per hour - enough to keep 17 runs open daily. And when it does snow, it stays. Because of the altitude of the Sierra Nevada which has two of the tallest peaks in Europe, and the north-east orientation of its slopes, the snow lingers on until the end of April, giving Sol y Nieve the longest ski season in Europe. Sun is no problem - there is sun in skin blistering plenty and generally blue skies all the way from the end of February. You could ski in a bikini - and quite a few do!
Sol y Nieve’s 54 pistes wind for some 66 kilometres through the snowy summits of the Sierra Nevada at an altitude rising to over 3,200 metres. There are four runs suitable for beginners (colour coded green) 44 for intermediates, (blue and red) and for the experts, 5 black runs and six off-piste trails, reached by a network of 20 lifts - gondolas, drag ands button lifts, (two telecabins, 13 telesillas, 3 telesquies, 1 telecuerda and 1 magic carpet?? )capable of transporting 36,395 skiers an hour. Its famed Eagle Pass is an exhilarating five kilometre run non-stop - or for those who need a dose of Dutch courage en route in the form of a lumumba (hot chocolate and brandy) or gluhwein (mulled wine with cloves), there are four on-piste restaurants.
But in Sol y Nieve, the ski is not the limit as is evident to anyone who has found themselves in the path of a party of manic snowboarders in clown hats with fluorescent go-faster sunbloc stripes painted in sunbloc on their faces who fly past screaming “Palillera!” - literally, toothpicker, referring to your unfashionable Alpine skis. A pioneer of snowboarding (skiing on a surfboard with no poles), the resort lives up to its own marketing slogan, “A mountain of possibilities” and offers the full gamut of winter sports - cross country skiing, artistic skiing (ballet, jumps, moguls) telemark, trekking and adventure skiing, carving - a kind of acrobatic skiing without poles - para-skiing (paragliding with snow skis) heli-skiing (a helicopter trip to the virgin off piste runs at the top of the Mulhacen) as well as dog sledding, hang gliding, horseback riding, snow biking, hiking, roller blading, mountain trekking, ice skating, wheelchair skiing for the disabled and night skiing, floodlit pistes open from 7-9.30pm on Saturdays, weather permitting.
A civilised resort for families, the gentle slopes and wide runs are excellent for L-plate skiiers. There are 15 ski schools employing 400 instructors including one for infants. At weekends there are children everywhere - irritatingly, much quicker learners than adults - bombing down the slopes shouting “look, no hands”. For those too young to have found their feet, let alone their ski legs, most of the hotels have their own creches and play groups.
From the resort it’s a three hour trek on foot or a more relaxing but equally breathtaking telecabin ride over the white sheeted mountains to the jagged peak of Veleta, 3,470 metres, the second highest peak of the range and indeed of the entire Iberian peninsula. From the twin domed observatory, through gusting snow, the panorama takes in Morocco’s Rif mountains to the south, Córdoba and Guadix to the north, and the mighty hard brown rocks of the mighty Mulhacén (3479m) the highest peak in Spain. Hardened mountain trekkers undertake the renowned Ruta de los Tres Mil, a complete traverse of the sierras peaks requiring crampons, rope and ice picks, a demanding four day itinerary which finishes in Lanjarón in the Alpujarras.
Pradollano, the central town, was purpose built and its modernity is somewhat lacking in charm. One Guardian newspaper writer described it as “a collection of shops and apartments built on top of an underground car park”. But its facilities get better by the year - check out the website with its on-line reservations service and daily snow reports on www.cetursa.es.
The entire resort is controlled by Cetursa, a part state-owned, part private company which invests heavily every season in the maintenance and expansion of the lift system connecting the main ski station of Borreguilles to other ski areas - Veleta, Laguna de las Yeguas, Monte Bajo, Loma Dílar, Parador Río Monachil. Last year, 3,000 million pesetas was invested in lift improvements and the changeover to an electronic system for detecting lift passes. Among this year’s innovations is the replacement of the old three-seater chairs on the Stadium chairlift with six seaters to double its capacity, essential on weekends when the resort is seething with day trippers. A one-day lift pass this year ranges from 27 to 35 euros depending on the date. (Peak season is around Christmas, the New Year and most of February.) The resort is also known for keeping a smart piste, it has grooming machines manned by professional rangers who examine the slopes before the public arrive and at the end of the day.
The après ski is an important adjunct to any winter sports holiday, the decision between late to bed or early to rise presenting a tantalising dilemma. Some try to do both. It should begin with a visit to the five storey Club Trevenque with its heated indoor pool which converts to an outdoors pool sunny days - a must for the experience of swimming through steam under a frosty sky. The club’s gymnasium, sauna, jacuzzi and Turkish baths are also an excellent place to soothe aching muscles.
Similar relaxation can be found at two of the resort’s better hotels, both part of the Melia group: the Sierra Nevada and the Sol y Nieve with its Greco-Roman swimming pool and open air ice rink. Catered ski lodges with a cook on hand to rustle up Swiss fondu or raclette are a popular alternative or take your own personal chef.
Here you can eat French, Spanish, Tex-Mex ,Chinese and you name it while for a chic place to see and be seen, the Crescendo bar with its arabesque cushions and log fires caters for most tastes with a menu that ranges from burgers and fajitas. It is open all day and late into the evening, its large sun decks, the perfect spot to people-watch and tan at the same time. Later a variety of hip bars and discos offer dancing until the rising sun turns the snowcapped peaks a fiery red signalling another day on the piste.
More slopes, more km to ski, improvements in
different services of the ski resort and a new chairlift.
These are some
of many improvements that Sierra Nevada did this summer.
There are no cages at the new Fuengirola Zoo where water and trees now provide natural barriers between man and beast.
Her eyes follow his every move, she purrs as he comes close and rubs her head against the glass where he places his hand in a gesture of deep affection. In the company of her lf This is no pussy hShe rubeubs
The great tiger reclines in her new kingdom without bars, replaced by bullet proof glass. She could kill a man with one siFive rass
A Walk on the Wild Side
Why fly long-haul to Kilimanjaro when you can have an Out of Africa experience
in your own back yard at Europe's most remarkable wildlife reserve. Belinda
Beckett donned her safari suit and took a walk on the wild side at Selwo Nature
Park - just off the N340.
Sometimes, when night falls in the hills behind Estepona, when the last Spanish
starling ceases its twittering and the coast is a necklace of fairy lights
twinkling in the darkness below, the roar of a wild animal can be heard. In a
deep valley hemmed in by sheer mountains reminiscent of his homeland, but in
unnerving proximity to the hotels and private villas along the tourist strip,
the Bengal tiger stalks. And he is hungry.
Should he feel a primal urge to break out of his kingdom in the mountains, there
are electronic fences. But in this relative freedom, surrounded by females, with
no dominant male to challenge his supremacy, where food arrives dead on a
platter and man, his only predator, is on his side, he is not so inclined.
Lions and cheetahs, elephants and white rhinos more accustomed to roaming the
wide plains of the Masai Mara now forage in the Cota del Sol campo. Caiman
alligators whose ancestors basked on the shores of the grey-green Mississipi are
at home swimming in rivers that spring from the Spanish sierras. Furred and
feathered creatures whose forebears frolicked in the canopy of the South
American rainforest play in the branches of almond and olive trees at Spain's
newest and most remarkable tourist attraction.
Mud, Glorious Mud
Approached from the N340 via a smoothly-tarmacced dual carriageway, it is hard
to believe that another world exists beyond the turnstiles of the imposing,
stone-walled entrance to Selwo Nature Park. And yet in a little over three
years, 100 hectares of land between San Pedro and Estepona have been transformed
into a network of ecosystems that have become home to some of the world's most
ferocious creatures and their prey; wolf and deer, cheetah and black buck,
reticulated python and capy bara co-exist in semi-wilderness, going about their
daily lives almost as nature intended. Geographically miles from their native
soil, the brown grass and parched earth of the Costa del Sol in summer fool the
black wildebeest that he is grazing the African veld and convince the Kulan -
half horse, half mule - that he is climbing the Mongolian Steppes while, from a
Nile hippopotamus' point of view, mud is mud, no matter where.
Selwo finally opened its doors this winter after several years of setbacks.
Originally conceived by an animal-loving private owner for whom it proved to be
just too ambitious and costly, it was purchased in January 1999 in an
eleventh-hour rescue bid by Spain's number one theme park operator, Parques
Reunidos, which owns zoos and aquariums nationwide. Since then the company has
invested 5,000 million Ptas. in a concept which employs 180 staff and is capable
of providing up to 600,000 visitors annually with a highly organised safari
experience where they may - or may not - view more than 200 species from five
continents in an environment approximating their natural habitat. Over and above
the 2,500 Ptas. entrance fee, the price the visitor pays for the freedom of
these animals is that it is not always easy to see them. There are no performing
seals, chimpanzees tea parties or public feeding circuses either, daily
nourishment being dispensed early in the morning or after the last visitor has
left.
For the 2,000 animals here, almost all of which were bred in zoos and have
therefore experienced the stultifying boredom of life pacing up and down behind
bars, Selwo is tantamount to Arcadia.
"Because most of the animals were bred in captivity they had no trouble adapting
to greater freedom," says Luis Flores, a member of Selwo's veterinary crash team
who may be summoned by a keeper to treat an injured or sick animal or to
minister at happier events such as the birth of a wallaby, the first animal to
be born at Selwo. A specialist in wild animals who previously worked at Jerez
zoo and spent two years working in the jungles of Bolivia, Sr. Flores says: "Selwo
is unique because of its immense size and the care that has gone into recreating
the ideal environment for each species. The animals can enjoy semi-liberty while
endangered species can receive special care and attention in terms of special
diets and regular check ups."
Indeed the animals have been put first at certain sacrifice to the visitor. The
Selwo experience is not for the faint-hearted. A comfortable pair of walking
shoes is a pre-requisite for the four hour tour, much of it on foot, over
terrain designed to harmonise with the environment rather than to be easy on the
feet and along stone slab paths that can easily trip up the unwary.
Call of the Wild
The Gate to Nature, where the adventure begins, one of five separate areas
through which the visitor is guided via a park map, is a colourful and riotous
celebration of all that is exotic in the world of wildlife. Lemurs, gibbons and
spider monkeys screech their raucous greeting, cute Coatis with velvety tails
pad contentedly round spacious cages, tiny lion-maned Tamarinds are content to
sit and stare at the strange human faces on the other side of the netting. Bird
of Paradise flowers, palms and lime green banana plants fringe a manmade lake.
On its seamless surface black swans and bar-headed geese glide while in a pool
beyond, a pair of tiny crescent-shaped ears peep above the surface, belying the
30 ton bulk of hippo cooling off in the murky depths below.
Bird Canyon is a precipitous, 300 metre, net-enclosed corridor where the fear of
being dive-bombed by a vicious-beaked hornbill or the spectacle of a Scarlet
Ibis darting past in a flash of crimson is all part of the experience. Solemn
Marabou Storks resembling gowned barristers, their black wings folded behind
their backs, eye the passing procession of stumbling visitors with interest,
begging the question: who is watching whom?
A wooden bridge straddling a ravine where camels stand in contemplative groups
and antelope chase their tails leads to Central Village and the welcome chance
of a seat aboard one of the fleet of frequently-departing, 40-seater safari
jeeps to see the big game. A guide dressed in African bush hat and khaki
trousers ingeniously designed to zip off at the knee and convert into shorts in
summer explains the queuing system in several languages and shows visitors to
their seats with military discipline. The Savannah Route reveals ostrich, oryx,
zebra, and rare white rhino, sadly just too distant to photograph in a moving
jeep. Elephants may be viewed at the end of another 300 metre slog along a dirt
track, though not everyone has the energy.
The scenery changes dramatically on The Valley Route, our jeep winding through
hill country tufted with thorny abalonge bushes and yellow-flowered vinagrillo
grass to catch a glimpse of African lions, Bengal tigers and brown bears. Safely
ensconced deep in their valley below, a glimpse is all visitors often get,
requiring something along the lines of the Hubble telescope to make out any
detail of the brown bear which, on my visit, was enjoying a bath while, to
misquote William Blake, they haven't yet made the telephoto lens that could get
close enough to frame the fearful symmetry of the Selwo tigers.
Ecology in Action
At every turn there are restaurants and refreshment stops - the only places
where smoking, drinking and eating is permitted. Tables hewn from natural wood,
chairs with arms fashioned from tree branches and thatched sombrillas reinforce
the Out of Africa theme. Even the ubiquitous litter bins are cunningly concealed
in wooden casings.
With ecotourism rapidly gaining in popularity, parks like Selwo are increasingly
putting the emphasis on education and ecological awareness. Every animal's
résumé is signposted in English and Spanish in satisfying detail while the Selwo
Nature School has been set up to provide an extensive programme of activities
for children aged eight to 14. Consisting of three large classrooms in the Gate
to Nature area and 41 adjoining African-style huts which form the Kenya, Zulu
and Masai villages, it is open to school groups during the academic year and for
educational summer camps. Adults too can participate in the learning experience
since African village-style accommodation, perched at the highest point of The
Valley Route and affording a view of the entire park, is available to those who
wish to experience a night or two going Bush, complete with sound effects.
Cottages modelled on African rondavels built in wood and stone containing
comfortable double bedrooms and a jacuzzi offer the complete ethnic experience
without the hardship.
Selwo is a fine example of ecology in action, but for the animals, it's still
only quasi freedom. Fencing keeps prey safe and prevents predators from enjoying
the thrill of the chase. Ruminants whose whole raison d'être is to sleep, breed
and while away the hours nibbling on sweet fresh grasses must suffer the boredom
of set feeding times because they are unable to move to fresh grazing land.
Dominant males among the big cats never experience the adrenaline rush of seeing
off a rival. They are isolated from each other and released into the open from
cages on a strict rotation basis because confrontation would mean a fight to the
death. But as beginnings go, Selwo is certainly a start, a working compromise
between animals' basic rights to freedom and the natural curiosity of man.
For further information please call Tel:95 279 2150.