It Mainly Rained In Spain, But It Was Not A Pain

In the middle of trying to keep on top of all of the tasks we have to get done in Philly,

we up and went to Spain.

It seemed a good idea three months ago when we signed up.  Back then we had lots of time.

It was an international meeting for autism researchers, 

and Terisa's dissertation was accepted as a poster. 

So we went: Terisa to work,

Me to play.

The location was San Sebastian, which is the Spanish name for Donostia, which is the Basque name for the place we went. To.

I had learned my obligatory words and phrases (Donde esta el bano?  Muy verde, s'il vous plait!) in Spanish, but everything is also written in Basque. In fact many things are only written in Basque.  Here is an example:  the letters tx make the sound "ch."

See what they did there? I know!

Anyway, Donostia is on the northern coast of Spain, on the Bay of Biscay.
So there was water.


And water sports.


We thought the surfers were a bit crazy, since temps hovered in the 40s and 50s most of the rainy week.  But there they were, in the water.  Hangin' ten.


As an overview, Donostia is built near an incredibly picturesque bay.

Now here is a picture without that fat old man who photobombs so many of my pictures.


The bay is guarded by a mountain on each side, and a little island right in the middle.  When I say guarded, I mean militarily...


...and spiritually. 
This is a Jesus statue that looks down sternly onto the beach, where everyone could get into all sorts of wardrobe trouble in warm weather.


Fortunately, it was not warm weather. 
Spring rains dominated most of the week.

Donostia is equal parts quaint European town...


...and modern European city.


We managed to squeeze in some ocean-watching (looking out on the main bay),

...some geology (yep, these rocks are really all twisted),

...some culture (Eduardo Chillida's"Comb of the Wind"),

...and some architecture.


One good thing about the cooler weather is that it gave us an excuse for chocolate-dipped churros.  That mug in front of Terisa is filled with melted chocolate.  When we ran out of churros, we just ate the chocolate straight.  Very decadent.

There are lots of pretty plazas and parks. This little path was on the same hill as the cannons,

...and it overlooked the marina,

...and the only building Wellington's army didn't burn to the ground in the 19th century- a cathedral.

There was wildlife,

...which made us think of Todd's pet store.  Here is a Donostia pet store, that is really only as wide as that door you see, and only about as deep. Fish and birds.

Anyway, everyone had dogs.

There were more parks,

...museums (these are traditional Basque headstones or stellae),

...and dining. 
We're not quite sure what that carved woman was doing on the ceiling beam.

Mostly we enjoyed being with other people, including friends old and new.

Like at our favorite bar,

...talking shop,

with a man named Pip, from Bath. 

Also Katie, and Mark, and Ilse, who was from Ireland, not Bath.

And wandering the streets of the old city with everyone else.

 

On the last day we happened, by chance, on a smallish plaza crowded with a local choir singing Basque anthems, accompanied by a full band.

And this high school group dancing something traditional. 

It had a lot of jumping. And drums.

It's one of our favorite memories.

So we overcame our apprehensions, went to a new place and lived to tell about it. And rekindled a desire to do it again. 

Travel always has that effect.

Unclenching at Exit Zero

When I pull hard for a long time...

...I get all clenched up inside.  My mind feels knotted,

and my body feels tense, like the feeling you have when you drive through mountain passes in a blizzard.  

In the dark.  That's the kind of clenched I mean.

So a quick weekend breakaway is just what the doctor ordered.

We chose Cape May.  The last stop on the highway.  Exit zero.

It's a little early in the season, so it is a bit cold. 

But that means we don't have competition for the beach.

Or for seats at Lobster House, or the Mad Batter or George's Place.

And the lighthouse doesn't mind the cold or the wind.

So we've been walking the pinelands and the beach, stretching our legs, and unclenching our toes.

Oh.  Just saw a pod of porpoises heading east, 50 feet off shore.  They don't look stressed.

A Philly New Year's Parade-What's a Mummer?

A "mummer" is a person who wears a mask or fantastic costume while merrymaking, says the dictionary.

 

The dictionary says nothing about being South Philly Italian, or marching with a brew in your hand, but these also seem to be requirements.  

And the merrymaking is a New Year's Day parade up Broad Street in Philadelphia.  Here's the view:

 

And in some cases, even the requirement for a mask or much of a costume is waived. (The club's theme was Gold Rush, he was the "mother load." The spelling seems to be intentional...)

 

It's a big deal.  The Governor came. 

I cannot say if he bought a fresh pretzel from the street vender in front...

  The queen came, too, though I'm not sure who outranks whom here.

And there is also no mention in the dictionary of the ubiquitous "golden slippers" everyone wears.

 The early paraders are the rough and rowdy "comic" brigades, which dress in dresses and carry parasols. And wear gold slippers.

Until the 70s, this meant drunk men in drag.  But now in addition to the drunk men in drag, there are women and children.  the dancing is limited to half-hearted attempts at moving their feet and waving the parasols in time.

 

 Costumes have such tradition that, aside from the colors, they look very alike: satiny, frilly, gaudy.

Except sometimes there are thematic variations (Fight Like a Girl, was the theme)...

 

...and innovations:

There are also beads, but they are presently a low-key part of the parade with none of the debauchery associated with them in New Orleans.

Institutions both local and general take a skewering.  Being South Philly, the Catholic church is particularly targeted by these "nuns":

 

But the bulk of mummers are tradesmen and craft workers of the blue-collar variety.  This shows through in some of the mumming.

 

The comics bring their own recorded music with them, usually in undecorated rental trucks.  From a distance, this would have looked like a Penske/UHaul(r) parade.

This wall of sound took three portable generators and made so much noise that the clubs behind it could get no closer than three blocks, whether from the noise or the pressure wave.

But some of the clubs piled a brass band into an open truck for their marching cadence.  These were my favorites.

After the comics came the fancies.  Not entirely sure what the fancies did or how they competed, but their hand-dragged floats were fun to see.  All of the animals seemed to have wings

 And their costumes were decidedly, well, fancy.  When the wind picked up some of these guys looked like they could get airborne.

The big hoorah in the day, however, is the string band competition.  String bands have percussion, saxophones, more saxophones, and even more saxomaphones, accordians, double basses (no kidding the bear-sized wooden things you see in the symphony), and banjoes.  I saw a couple of fiddles, too.  But the music is good and largely recognizable.

The string bands are the ones who stop, erect backdrops and scenery in the street, and play a five-minute medley dancing out some kind of a theme. These guys did Bugs Bunny.

The competition is intense, and bragging rights for the next year are on the line.  They drill and construct and practice for a whole year.  Plans are probably guarded more closely than the Hope diamond all year.  Until New Year's Day.

 There were 16 or 17 string bands this year, and I only lasted on the street through a handful of them.

 This is not a parade for the faint-hearted.  It starts at 9:45am, and goes through 5:15pm.  Napping is permitted.

 

It wasn't my heart that was faint, but my frozen toes that did me in. I ended up walking home and watching the last dozen on TV.

 

 Who won?  Well, the judging is still going on at the moment of this posting, but my sister has her vote in for the Fralinger club.  I don't know, Aqua had a pretty nice presentation, and Hegeman and Polish American were outstanding this year.  See what hobbies you could have if you lived in Philly?