Andalucian activities

28 February is Día de Andalucía, Andalucia Day, marked here by a bullfight. We also thought it was time to go and support Antequera´s handball team. They play in the top league, and are a little above halfway, but needed some help to break a losing streak of five games. Finally, on Sunday, I joined a council-organised walk from the village of Casabonella to another village of Carratraca, across a range of hills.

So first, to the bullfight. As you will see, this is not an activity without controversy.



Some local grafitti - which explains the debate in Spain over the place of la corrida in modern life.

This fight was out of season, no need to pay extra for seats in the shade at this time of the year. Our local bullring is not that big, and was less than a third full. But those there - a wide range of locals, all ages, both genders - seemed to enjoy the spectacle. There is a lot of ritual and pageantry, costumes, music, theatre and choreography. It´s like going to a show - but nothing can disguise the fact that at the end of it, there is a death.




Before the fight, the participants (except los toros) get to parade around the bullring accompanied by marching music and that Andalucian rhythmic clapping from the crowd.

After the first couple of fights (there were six bulls in total, and three teams of toreadors), we got the gist of it. It´s very tightly controlled, not much room for error, and the bulls behave very predictably. When they first emerge into the ring they are enraged, charging at anything that moves. They are large animals and do seem very dangerous. We saw one not-so-young toreador scampering with a bull chasing him, leaping over the wooden fence in pretty much a single bound. But generally, the bullfighters know what they are doing and they play out their role. Early in the fight, the bandilleros dash out from behind the wooden barriers to tease the bull, before nicking back to safety, provocatively waving their capes - pink at this stage. And the picadores, safely astride horses and well protected with metal leggings, play their part - thrusting their long lances into the bull´s shoulder area to weaken it, before the matador comes out to play. We were reliably informed that these horses have their vocal cords cut so they can´t scream, and they are also blindfolded. It must be terrifying for them. I don´t know if the horses perform more than once, but if not, I guess that they, like the bulls, don´t know what´s in store for them.

The picadores and bandilleros tire, weaken and confuse the bull, before the matador, resplendent in his traje de luces, performs the final act.

The famous red cape is reserved for the matador, the guy who kills the bull, theoretically with a single thrust of a long sword he keeps cunningly hidden in his cape.

There is grace, beauty and bravery, and it is hypnotic and ritualistic. But I´m not sure that it´s "right" in this day and age to subject animals to such terror. For the bulls, there´s the ignominy of a public death and an undignified departure from the bullring, dragged by a team of decorated donkeys out the back to the waiting carcinería. Our local bullring boasts a restaurant, La Espuela, famous for its steak...But for the bullfighters there´s fame and fortune, and for the most handsome and gifted, gossip and photos in ¡Hola! magazine.

The end of the line for the bull, no matter how valiantly he has fought.

So onto another local sport - this time handball, or balonmano. I had never been to a match and really had no idea what it would be like, but Antequera loves its handball team. They have been kitted out in fancy suits by the Romero tailoring shop, and were despatched to Madrid recently on the AVE fast train to represent Antequera at a big tourism exhibition, where, according to the Sol de Antequera, they impressed all with their handsomeness and physique (somehow this sounds better in the Spanish).

Like all good team sports, there´s a mascot - ours is a weird kind of creature, possibly a fox - who gets the crowd going and revs up the players. The supporters, known as la marea verde, or the green tide, also do their bit with drums and songs. The atmosphere is friendly, fun and full of laughs.

The game is played indoors, and is frenetic. It was close, and Antequera suffered an early setback when our goalie left the court injured. But the opposition, Torrevieja, were never ahead, and los verdes ended up winning 30-27. Close enough to be exciting, but not too nail biting.

It´s a really physical game, and a bit like basketball with only seven players on the court at any one time, and frequent subbings on and off.

And finally to a more sedate activity - hiking in the Andalucian countryside. The local council organises series of walks, open to all. You pay a few euro, and get a bus ride out into the countryside, a guide, and at the end beer and a sandwich (this is Spain after all!). The other day we were talking in class about English words that have found their way into the Spanish language. I asked about the word "picnic", but our teacher wasn´t sure. She said they would probably use the phrase "dar un paseo", go for a walk. The food was implicit, tacit, they didn´t need a separate word like "picnic", because of course there would be food. Well, this walk was like that.

We met at 8am, piled into the bus and set off for the pretty hillside town of Casabonella. After a discussion about (I think) the route, there were a few gentle warm ups (!) and then we set off, uphill, for at least 40 minutes before our first food stop.

We were instructed to eat our fruit and a muesli bar and drink water. Then it was off again, this time for maybe an hour, before another snack stop.

In between eating, we did manage to climb up and over a range of hills, from one valley to another.

An hour or so later, after a short diversion because our guides lost the trail, it was time to stop for lunch. This was the signal for the beers to be opened and the cigarettes came out. Bocadillos, tortillas and salads were produced, and there was 20 minutes or so of serious feeding, before the last hour of the walk. The town we ended up in was gorgeous and we strolled around it for a bit, before ending up at a cafe where piles of sandwiches, beers and soft drinks were produced. Then it was on the bus and back to Antequera, about 10 hours later. A lovely day out.

Berlin

Compared to much of Europe, the city of Berlin is not that old. Apparently, in an effort to conjure up more gravitas, they became expert at erecting buildings that quickly aged, giving the city a more solid and enduring air. This even has a name, historicism. Now, the city specialises in a style of architecture that is determinedly modern, all glass and steel, which sits oddly alongside the old stone buildings and geometrically perfect platzes that still exist. The new Norman Foster-designed dome over the historicist Reichstag is one example. The dome is fantastic when seen in isolation, but I'm not sure how well it sits within the traditional stone facade.

The Reichstag's new glass and mirrored dome. The glass represents democratic transparency (not sure what the mirrors are for, unless it's to make the point that MPs are really us!!). You can even peer down the centre of the dome and see parliament at work.

And here's a bit of trivia for you - the words on the front of the Reichstag, Dem Deutschen Volke (the German people), were made from melted down cannons captured from the French in the Franco-Prussian war. This victory marked the start of the modern German state, and Bismarck, who is immortalised in the Tiergarten, was its mastermind. In honour of this victory, and those over the Danes and Austrians, the wonderful Victory monument was erected in the Tiergarten. It was one of our favourite monuments, in a city that specialises in them.

The classic, Grecian-inspired frontage of the Reichstag.

Bismarck surveying all from his spot in the lovely Tiergarten.



The beautiful Victory Monument has pride of place in the Tiergarten.

The famous Brandenberg Gate, from Pariser Platz, home to embassies, including one being built for the US. There is some discussion as to whether pedestrians will be allowed to roam the platz, once it is up and running.

Underpinning the theme of historicism, Berlin has some of the world's greatest antiquities in its museums. We had occasionally come across mention of various Berlin museums in north Africa, as currently (though temporarily!) housing Egyptian and Nubian treasures, taken during the great discovery period of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. The Egyptian culture minister was especially colourful and vocal in his desire to get Nefertiti, a beautiful bust of the famous Egyptian beauty, back to Cairo. Doesn't sound like it's going to happen though. The Altes Museum director was quoted in Air Berlin's magazine, saying, "it would be irresponsible to expose Nefertiti to risks...".

Along the River Speer is Museuminsel, Museum Island, the site of a number of Berlin's top museums. We chose to visit the Pergamon Museum, named after the Pergamon Altar (below) which was removed from its original site in Turkey and has been reconstructed inside the museum. Measures were taken during WWII to protect these treasures, and they are now displayed in all their glory. The altar is surrounded by a frieze of over 100m, which, while much of it is missing, is still quite awe inspiring, specially when viewed from the altar steps, while fiddling about with one's audio guide!

You can get a sense of the scale of the Altar from this photo (thanks Wikipedia).

This section of the frieze above shows Athena doing her bit to win the war against the terrestrial giants.

The Istar Gate from Babylonia is also completely restored and reconstructed inside Berlin's Pergamon museum. These lions are in relief, standing out from the surrounding tiles; the craftsmanship is superb, and about 2500 years old.

Another particularly Berlin word we learned was ostalgia - nostalgia for the days of East Germany. After the euphoria of the Wall coming down, the reality for Germans of both east and west Berlin was higher costs, higher unemployment, higher taxes...so in some quarters rose-coloured spectacles have been directed to the more simple days when Berliners on the east didn't have to make decisions and were assured of work and financial support for their whole lives. The cutest has to be the image on the street lights, the Ampelmann, who is now spreading into the old western district.

This guy is so cute, he wears a little hat and is unequivocal in his urgings to walk or wait. I think he should be exported to the whole world, to replace our unappealing androgynous figures.

Ostalgia shows in the revival of the now-hip Trabant. There's a company in Berlin called Trabi Safaris. We did a walking tour, but you can also take a Trabi tour round the city's hot spots.

Less endearing reminders from the East Berlin days linger though, and it has been revealed that there was a Stasi member for every six or seven Berliners. The enormous amounts of paper generated by their activities is being painstakingly scanned and archived with the files are now available to the subjects of their interest. Check out this Wired story about the technology behind this work: http://www.wired.com/politics/security/magazine/16-02/ff_stasi?currentPage=all

This statue is outside the Stasi Museum, where you can see what now seem rather quaint spying mechanisms including hidden cameras and tape recorders.

This famous sign is immortalised at Checkpoint Charlie on the old border of east and west. The nearby museum is an eclectic and slightly random collection of escape stories and artefacts.

On a (recommended) walking tour of the city, we learned that the name Berlin comes from a Slavic word "birl", meaning swamp! This explains the city's dampness, flatness and naturally enough the large number of bicycles, not to mention fast marathon times. While we were there in mid-winter, the days were fine enough, though brisk for us compared to mild Andalucian temperatures, but I noticed that my photos all seem to have a sort of gray haze across them. It's more a lack of brightness than a dullness, but it's a useful metaphor to describe the nature of Berlin - the last century and a bit has been a rocky road for this city, and its citizens appear to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. They too come across as a little faded and distant.

Germans obediently leave their bicycles on these thoughtfully provided racks. As in Amsterdam, German women have mastered the art of cycling while looking elegant and poised.

Berlin is the city where Germany washes its dirty linen in public. There are memorials to the Holocaust - currently just the one for the Jewish community is completed, but those for other persecuted groups are in the planning. There is an outdoor exhibition called the Topography of Terror - a series of photoboards showing executions, forced marches, prison and concentration camp scenes that stretches for at least half a kilometre. There is more information of a similar nature where the Gestapo interrogation cells were uncovered, after having been buried during a bombing raid. Checkpoint Charlie is the site of more outdoor information boards with the history of the Cold War told in statistics and photos. The war memorial is blessedly simple, but tellingly contains soil from concentration camps, together with bones of unknown victims, as well as the more usual unknown soldier.

Berlin's new, and naturally enough controversial, Holocaust Memorial. There are 2700 stelae, all different sizes but placed pleasingly and within sight of the Reichstag.



Kathe Kollwitz sculpted Berlin's moving war memorial in memory of her son killed in WWI. It sits in yet another Grecian-inspired edifice, beneath a hole in the roof which lights the interior and means the sculpture is exposed to the elements.

And yet the new Jewish Museum, the one that Wellingtonian Nigel Cox was involved in developing, is remarkably silent on the role of the modern Jewish community in the life of Berlin. Read Nigel's eloquent account of his time in Berlin at: http://www.nzetc.org/tm/scholarly/tei-Ba28Spo-t1-body-d22.html

The museum building is designed around a series of voids, in reference to the gap left in German life by the Holocaust. The garden is integral to the design, and consists of a series of tall concrete columns, placed on an uneven surface, with willows planted on the top, visible from slits in the museum walls. The museum though is a fabulous place, a stunning piece of architecture containing the full story of Jewish culture and history in Europe. We spent over three hours there, only stopping for a brief Kosher coffee break!

The garden was full of raucous German schoolchildren racing about, which was a relief after the often harrowing displays inside, and the disconcerting 'voids', this one containing metal discs of faces, all identical.

Humboldt University, alma mater to nine Nobel prize winners, but infamously also the source of the bookburners of 1933. A plaque across the road remembers the event.

It's not just WWII that has left its mark in Berlin though. The Cold War immediately afterwards is still very visible, though not as much as it was. I went to Berlin for the first anniversary of the Wall coming down, in November 1990. Then it was everywhere, now it's almost nowhere. In fact, special bits of it are protected by, well, a wall! And its trace through and around the city is marked by a bricked line.

Most of the Wall is now a faded memory, preserved by a line of bricks snaking through the city and a series of photoboards.

A small stretch of the old 100 mile+ Wall has been preserved for posterity. Behind is Goebbels' Air Ministry building, now used by the tax department.

Berlin wasn't all museums, memorials and gloomy history though. We enjoyed the food, specially the local wurst and of course the beer. The shops on the Kurfürstendamm were great for window shopping, but we indulged a little at the more down-to-earth department stores. And we did a pub crawl, mostly through the Mitte area, the centre of old east Berlin, and now the heart of rejuvenated urban living. (Hi to Chris and Helen, if you're reading this!). It was great fun, I think!

You can't beat an organic sausage teamed with an organic ale, eaten outdoors on a brisk Berlin evening.

I think I will leave the last word to the guy who is so famous in Spain that he graces our one Euro coin. We rather surprisingly came across this in a suburban street, not far from the Jewish Museum.

Cervantes was obviously well-travelled and certainly wise, or discreto, at least.

Primavera en Antequera

Already it's mid February and the sun's been shining and warm for a few weeks now. I went walking today in the hills behind the town. It's dry and sparse, but there are small irises, as well as the usual scrubby bushes of sage and thyme everywhere. The olive trees are almost all harvested, the fruit trees are starting to bloom and the fields are ploughed. It's really very lovely. Hope you enjoy these photos.

This image is absolutely classic; sun setting on the casa blanca, and el viejo planting his vegetables in the garden.



I was amazed to come across this beautiful white horse being trained, with the church of Santa Carmen visible in the background.