As I said; oh Europe, how I have missed thee.
In an interesting turn of events for me, KitKat has never been to Europe, not at all. Not even in passing. This is – after all – only my ‘twin’s’ first year with the company. She’s still at the completely unjaded phase, where absolutely everything is new…that is such an awesome place to be and more of us should work hard to stay there.
This was discussed briefly while we were walking down the gangway this morning, passing the souvenir racks in the terminals that are inevitably full of everything from fans to children’s flamenco costumes.
That is a very fluffy dress.
It’s a kid’s flamenco dress, welcome to Spain!
Oh my goodness we’re in Spain!
Yup…that we are.
And as we emerge out into the sunlight I look around me and take in the unique and yet wonderfully familiar buildings with their massive carved doors and iron-railed balconies and feel a tremendous sense of relaxation kind of roll over me. I know Europe, I understand it even when I don’t understand the language being spoken. Europe “gets” me.
The Art Historian in me – armchair though she has become – claps her hands with glee when in Europe. But this is the first time I’ve been here with someone who has never seen any of it. Watching KitKat is like watching what I must have been like when I first set foot here. It’s really, pretty cool.
The best thing to do in these ports is just to wander. Despite warning myself to remember which turn we took to get from the shuttle to the main square, we still managed to get turned around on the way back – but only briefly. That’s the danger with Spanish streets, they all look..similar, and they’re all so twisty and turny that it’s very easy to completely lose track of where you are. But then there are also lots of random things to distract you, only a few steps down the first street we turned onto I stopped.
Again, welcome to Europe, check out the doors
This is not actually meant as a joke, doors in European cities – the old areas of town anyway – are often part of buildings that have been standing for decades. These are not merely portals by which to leave an enter a building, these are works of art. Carved with lion’s heads and intricate vines that look like they could start shifting in the slightest breeze; these are doors that make a statement.
Amras and I had an entire conversation about this last time we were in Europe, but that’s another story altogether.
I was completely unsurprised when KitKat pulled out her camera and started taking door photos.
But when we finally did reach the main square, there was the Cathedral. As inevitable as a corner grocery shop at home, every port in Europe has a cathedral of some kind, and that is not to make light of any of them or make their frequent occurrence sound blasé, as they are anything but. As KitKat stood there snapping photos of the exterior façade, I looked at the entrance.
Wanna go in?
Um…sure
I am exceptionally fortunate that I have been able to get to Europe several times, not only over the course of my time with the company, but I did live in Europe for a while (though I will admit England is a fair stone’s throw from Spain!). As such, I have been doubly lucky to have seen a lot of amazing pieces of architecture (I remember my parents pleading with me to ‘label my churches’), and my reaction to them, while always reverent and respectful, is much less jaw-on-the-floor than it probably once was.
KitKat on the other hand? The look on her face when she walked through those huge doors was priceless.
I had almost forgotten what it was like to see a proper Cathedral for the first time,
Oh right…yeah…welcome to Europe!
Whoa…
In all fairness, it was a breathtaking building. Baroque architecture with interiors that had been retooled in the 18th century; the altarpiece was immense, you just looked up and up and up. Admission included an audio tour, though as is always the case I can’t recall any of the names and dates it recited. I just…love absorbing the feel of such places. I dug 50 eurocents out of my wallet and deposited it in the candle box as I always do, though here they had adopted electric candles, which I thought sad, as I like the physical act of creating a light.
After all, that’s what it’s all about isn’t it?
Cathedrals are a statement of humanity to the world: look how much we can build, look what light we can bring, who would be cruel enough or brave enough to challenge us. The continuing endless dance against the darkness, dancing on the head of a pin in the blackness of eternity.
We spent more time in the Cathedral than we had intended, which I often find is the case, and since they were just about to start a proper service we eventually made our way out still not having seen every thing there was to see, but satisfied that we had at least made a sufficient effort.
Back out in the drenching yet somehow still cool sunshine, we found our way to one of the multitude of – of all things – chocolatiers’ cafes, that lined the square and settled down with gourmet hot chocolate that tasted like all things exotic and holiday. And this was the real kind of hot chocolate, the kind you eat with a spoon!
Oh yes, Europe…how I have missed you.