A slice of the pie
Cadiz is considered the oldest Western city due to its strategic location dividing Europe from Africa. Yesterday, Tin and I went out for a little exploration that started blocks from our apartment in Plaza Fragela – where the great theater Falla and the University of Cadiz are located.
Our destination, if we had one, was to check out the gym that offers pilates and other classes, but it was closed and suddenly we found ourselves at the ocean, that happens to be mere minutes from where we are staying. The sea is everywhere in Cadiz, because it is shaped like a pie and if you go out from center in any direction you find the Atlantic in all its stunning beauty. If you are near the center of the pie, like we are, you find yourself in a maze of streets that don’t always go all the way through.
We were not prepared for the beach, but Tin would have none of it, he demanded to go in – he is a Pisces after all and water is his first love. So off with the clothes and I waded in and let him have a swim – which was refreshing as the Atlantic here is crisply cool and welcome in the summer sun. We heard from our friends in Zahara, just 40 kilometers away that the levante was pretty bad right now (the winds that lift the sand and make it impossible to be on the beach), but here in Cadiz, the Straits of Gibraltar winds were not bothering anybody.
Later, we met a friend’s mother for a stroll – a favorite Spanish pastime, and tapas. She met us at our apartment and we walked to hers moving through plaza after plaza and park after park where everyone, as she noted, was out with their kids escaping the heat of their homes. “Much like Cuba,” she said, as she is Cuban but retired in Cadiz, close to her children who remained in Zahara de los Atunes, a village not too far from here.
And Cadiz reminds me of Cuba, only it is much more pristine. The garbage is collected here every day, the streets are cleaned every day. “This has to stop,” our friend said. What municipality can afford to do this, especially one in a crisis?
Plaza de San Antonio:
Our friend’s apartment building:
I don’t know if it’s because she is Cuban or just because Spain reminds me of Cuba, reminds me of New Orleans, but her place definitely feels as if I am at home. Just steps from her place is the sea; this time not a beach but the cliffs and bordering it a park where humungous trees from the West Indies were planted that are marvelous.
Our friend said her son who is working in Zahara is now thinking of returning to the U.S. because of the crisis. I said, why?, there are no jobs there either. People here mistakenly believe the U.S. still remains this mecca where jobs are plentiful and everyone can make money. But money can’t buy this, I thought, as I walked the clean cobblestone streets, and watched the sun setting into the deep blue sea. In New Orleans, the city can barely muster what it takes to cut the grass in public areas, much less keep our streets from buckling or sinking, not to mention clean.
This is Tin moments before he fell in this beautiful fountain, causing us to return to our friend’s house to get him a towel to wear to dinner.
July 4th, 2012 at 10:39 pm
It sounds idyllic and like you are having a wonderfully relaxing time. Very impressive tree trunk in the background.
July 5th, 2012 at 9:52 am
Thanks Maryilyn – so far the healing waters of Spain are helping! Love, Rachel
July 6th, 2012 at 5:34 pm
I like that tree too. Banyan? Tin is long, isn’t he (I mean tall). And his hair is short–so different. Speaking of which, have you begun to grow some yourself? Mine is getting long(ish) compared to what it was two years ago. I think about you and yours often. Spain seems wonderful.
July 7th, 2012 at 3:11 am
Alice – banyan, yes – the trees here are unbelievably grand and beautiful. Tin got a beach cut before we left New Orleans to help deal with the every day hair and beach deal. I cried when he got his little fro cut off because it made him look so much older! He is in the 75% percentile for height even though his birth parents were petite – his doctor says he could skip a generation or it could be improved nutrition helping him reach his height. I dreamed last night my hair and lashes and brows had grown back lush and full and dark and I was so pleased with myself – but I woke as bald and bare as I have been since March. I’m trying not to focus on it because what will happen is different from after chemo where it does grow back – with alopecia there is no known trajectory – it might, it might not, it might and fall out again, it might and only some fall out again, it might not all grow back – it’s so unknown as to make someone like myself go nuts, so I’m trying to stay out of my hair’s future.
July 7th, 2012 at 3:21 am
It’s a quarter past four in the morning, here. The birds are starting to chirp, the fan has been humming all night long, and I’m living vicariously through you. Glad to know the waters are working their magic — yay!
And yes, the TREE!
xoxo