I am writing this from Lugano, Switzerland which is in a section of the country called Ticino, right across the border from Italy. Everyone here looks Italian and speaks Italian, along with some French and no English that I can find. I am waiting for my next Grandson to arrive. He was due two days ago. They are going to name him Nathanial if he ever gets here. My son and his wife are also waiting for their furniture so we are living a very simple life but, as my daughter in law says, you learn how little you really need to carry on in life. My grandchildren are amazing, not having many toys, but managing to keep so busy with their imaginations and each other that they never say they are bored.
In any case, here are a few photos I took of some early poppies before we left Provence. I imagine they are in their full array right now.

Deep in the heart of a poppy

A dandelion in Lugano

Most people make the trip to Granada in Spain to visit the Alhambra, a spectacular castle still in the Moorish style, nothing else can show what the Moors did in Spain as much as this place. Part of it was under reconstruction and I missed seeing the famous Lion fountain, but it was still a pleasure to visit and wonder what it would have been like to live or visit here.

A photo can’t do the architecture justice. It is graceful, full of sculptured walls and arches and that look that people love to copy into their own homes.

Much of it is opened to the outdoors.

A closeup of one of the columns there.

A look at one of the ceilings.

This was in Cordoba at one of the street celebrations. I kept wanting to buy a beautiful Spanish shawl or fan but wasn’t sure what I would do with one when I got it home so passed.

Cordoba is home to a cathedral called la Mezquita which means mosque even though it has been a cathedral for more than 750 years. I was here with my exhusband in a whole other life time. I know this because I have a photo of it, but I have no memory of being here. In fact, except for a memory or two, most of Spain is sort of lost in a fog. I do remember that I loved Spain and Portugal but can’t give any really good reasons why. In any case, I never forgot those red and white stripe arches all over the cathedral. There were once 1000 columns holding up the arches but when they converted the mosque to a cathedral the number dropped to 580.

Here are just a few of the columns and arches.

Another decorative arch. I don’t know why the Catholics who converted this mosque to a church didn’t tear the whole thing down and start all over as they often did. I’m glad they didn’t. In fact, the mosque tore down a church to build the mosque-the many columns were taken from the church and Roman ruins. It is a very strange feeling church with all of those columns and arches and then the over the top golden chapels and altars.

When we arrived in Cordoba we found that there was a big Catholic fesitval going on on just about every corner. It was the day of the cross, I believe, and we saw red crosses everywhere, music, dancing and drinks all over the city. It was fun to walk around and hit a party at every turn.

Of course, Spain is the home of the famous bull fights. I’ve never seen one in person and I know I never will as I don’t like to see anything suffer or die in front of me, except for flies. We did a tour of the bull fight ring called la Maestranza there in Seville, a circlular building with white and ochre arches and it was interesting to see and hear about it all. It is called the cathedral of bull fighting. Millions a year watch local bull fights in Spain.

A view of the ring. I have to say that it seemed smaller to me than the colluseum used in Arles and less dramatic and it is actually oval in shape. I saw bull “fights” there as well but no bulls die.

The door where the bull enters the ring. In a little museum there, were old paintings showing old bull fights and there were many injured or dead horses in them.They finally came up with some armor for the poor horses as many died during the course of a day, something I never knew. I found out that in the beginning bulls were fought from horse top and that it was done by royalty. After the king decided it shouldn’t be done by royalty any more, the poorer people took it up and, having no horses, the bulls were then fought on foot.

A row of seats. Most seats had no backs except for this row. There was also a grand area for the Royalty of Spain to sit.

A statue of a famous matador outside the ring. They have the status of rock stars there. The outfits they wear during bull fights cost from 4 to 20 thouand euros. I’m sure they are hoping they won’t get a hole in one as they are fighting a bull-a hole from a horn-not to mention in their bodies.

I think Seville was my favorite city that we visited in the Andalucia region. I enjoyed walking around the winding narrow streets and it is full of beautiful parks and fountains. I can’t imagine how hot it must be in the summer there because it was in the 90’s while we visited.
The first place we went to was the Cathedral of Seville, the largest Gothic cathedral in the world.

This photo only gives a glimpse of how huge this cathedral is. It is built on top of a mosque that the Catholic Kings destroyed, probably in the same shape and size.

Here is a view from the top of the tower, la Giralda, which we climbed. The tower is really a minaret similar to the one in Marrakech.

The tomb of Christopher Columbus, he of 1492 and the “discovery” of America. There is some question as to whether he is actually in this tomb-he could be in Santa Domingo. In any case, he did start on his voyage from Spain sent out by King Fernando and Queen Isabel. Isn’t it funny the versions of history that we are taught while in school? It turns out that, while they did indeed send out Columbus on his voyage, they were also systematically wiping out any people not Catholic, even Jews from families that had converted to Catholicism centuries before.

I liked this statue but I’m not sure who he represents. Maybe Columbus? It was near the tomb.

We were having a lunch of tapas when we heard a commotion outside on the street and saw these young men carrying a very heavy load on their heads. They were getting into training for a religious procession which occurs later this month when a very heavy statue of Mary is carried for miles down the street. It looked like a very hard job.

As you might have noticed, it was hard to tell where we were last week. We were obviously by the sea and there was a tropical feel. Here are a couple of more photos that might yield some more clues:

Does this help? If you have actually been in the town where we stayed, you would probably recognize it.

If I told you that this was Alphonso XII would you know where it is? He was the King of Spain and he came here to Nerjas after an earthquake and renamed the area where his statue is, The Balcony of Europe.

Nerjas is a town in southern Spain, right on the Mediterranian Sea not far from Malaga which is where we were. I had never heard of it before but Maurice’s son was there visiting his girlfriend so we made a trip. It turned out to be a really nice town. It has an interesting old town, a little beach and is a good setting out point to explore Andalucia in the southern part of Spain.

I’m sure you would have guessed Spain if I had put this photo up first.

And this would have been an easy clue too. We ate alot of Tapas. There are either a sort of hors d’ouvres or a small plate of food. It is a fun way to taste many different types of dishes while in Spain. I drank a lot of Sangria as well.

We stayed at a nice hotel but they must have had a special deal going with the countries of Germany and England because it was packed with mainly old people from there. After having visited England I can see why the English would flock to Spain. The prices are so much less expensive. At first Maurice and I felt really young and wondered why everyone was so old but then realized that we were probably about the median age there. The hotel had an enormous breakfast buffet and every morning I would sit there and look at people, killing time as Maurice ate his huge breakfast-I am not a breakfast person and was done in five minutes after some cereal and fruit. Many of the German men were tall, with gray hair and glasses and reminded me of the photos in the newspapers of that awful Austrian man who had kept his daughter locked up for 24 years. And there was the German lady, so well dressed in the mornings and sporting a spectacular tan which she gained while sunning out by the pool all day topless on her lounger. Many of the English people would give quick little looks as they walked by her at the pool. And there was a strange little English man wearing screaminly yellow short pants with a strange hair do that I called “The Pouf”. He grew his hair long at the neck and, somehow, I guess with hairspray, had it brought up over the back of his head to the front to cover a bald spot. Donald Trump looks good next to him. It was so awful I got so I couldn’t bear to look at it. Two days at the hotel we spent lounging by the pool but three others we spent exploring Andalucia. I will share some photos in the next posts.