An epic train journey...
Did you know that the Canary Islands, of which Tenerife is one of seven, way out there in the Atlantic somewhere off the coast of North Africa is actually a province of Spain. I had visited Spain for a month in July and August way back in 1970 as a guest of the Spanish Air Force under the regime of General Franco. This was the first "International Air Cadet" visit to the country and gave an insight to a county where civil rather than international war had moulded recent history, a fact wasted on us youths as we were more overawed by the scenery and the romance of the place.
Spending time in Madrid, Majorca, Granada, Marbella, Burgos and stops in between, bullfighting and beautiful senoritas appealed more to testosterone laden youths from Canada, the USA, Puerto Rico, the UK and other participating countries, though I remember being impressed by the sight of armed police and military on the streets and the ease of access we had escorted by our Air Force officer and his aid. The Alhambra, museums and fortresses are a blur now but I am grateful that I saw huge swaths of the country not seen by the "Costa del" visitors of the time. Alas the full set of B&W photographs recorded by the official photographer and presented to us before we left have long gone but the memories remain.
Whilst on the island I discovered that there were very favourable air fares from Tenerife North to Spain. Jose Luis and Teresa, my landlords, take full advantage of this to travel back and forth to the mainland to spend time at the "village" of his birth near Madrid. I was invited along for the ride. We planned a visit to Madrid, a road trip to France returning in time for the fiesta at Colmenar de Oreja, not a village but a city where Jose Luis was born. This was when I discovered that ten cities form the autonomous region of Madrid.
The dateline for this post is 30 July 2013 so why am I writing this now? We are about to come full circle in my travels as I plan my departure from Bulgaria at the end of June destined to reach Madrid once again in August 2017. An epic train journey through Roumania, Hungary, Austria, Italy, France and Spain hence, with an eye on our immanent departure in more ways than one, my new blog in a new format onemanineurope.blogspot.com. As I add posts to my other blogs I shall replicate them here so that this will become my "opus" in words and pictures to an adventure I have loved and the friends I have made whatever the future may hold.
Spending time in Madrid, Majorca, Granada, Marbella, Burgos and stops in between, bullfighting and beautiful senoritas appealed more to testosterone laden youths from Canada, the USA, Puerto Rico, the UK and other participating countries, though I remember being impressed by the sight of armed police and military on the streets and the ease of access we had escorted by our Air Force officer and his aid. The Alhambra, museums and fortresses are a blur now but I am grateful that I saw huge swaths of the country not seen by the "Costa del" visitors of the time. Alas the full set of B&W photographs recorded by the official photographer and presented to us before we left have long gone but the memories remain.
Whilst on the island I discovered that there were very favourable air fares from Tenerife North to Spain. Jose Luis and Teresa, my landlords, take full advantage of this to travel back and forth to the mainland to spend time at the "village" of his birth near Madrid. I was invited along for the ride. We planned a visit to Madrid, a road trip to France returning in time for the fiesta at Colmenar de Oreja, not a village but a city where Jose Luis was born. This was when I discovered that ten cities form the autonomous region of Madrid.
Comments
Post a Comment