This past week was Salamanca’s Fiesta week. Usually every town/city in Spain has at least one “fiesta” week every year; usually it is to honor the patron saint of the place, however, there are always extra activities to appease the people. Every night in the Plaza Mayor, there is a musical artist that gives a concert on the stage, while on other plazas, dancers (including flamenco dancers), mimes, and other entertainers give their best. In the afternoons, “cabezetos” run free around the streets. “Cabezetos” are people who wear these cartoonish giant heads/masks of either traditional Spanish people or creatures from Spanish folklore… it makes them look like human-sized bobble-heads. Apparently, they chase people, mainly children, threatening to hit them with sticks! Whoever thought this would be a fun pastime has a slightly demented sense of humor. One afternoon, Glynnis and I were walking down Calle Toro and were caught in a stampede of sprinting teenage boys! We stood frozen and screamed in confusion… for a small fraction of a second, my ignorant foreign mind thought a bull was chasing them… but I soon realized that the cabezetos were causing all the chaos. You would think I would be relieved, but the sight of giant painted masks waving sticks was just as frightening as any bull.
In the past three years, “casetas,” have become popular during fiesta week. They are basically small food stands that line every square inch of parks and the streets. Each one serves a variety of “pinchos,” or tapas, drinks, and dessert for a cheap price. People can easily hop from caseta to caseta. Lauren, Barry, Glynnis and I ate at probably six or seven casetas for dinner one night. Most of them had really good deals, and each of us probably spent five euros max.
Tuesday is a local holiday in Salamanca where everything closes, so we did not have class. Instead, the class took a day trip to El Río Duero and the small town of Fermoselle. We left early in the morning, and drove though the most windy and uncomfortable, hair-pin mountain roads to get to our first destination. Las Arribes del Duero is a national park which showcases the beautiful canyon that the Río Duero carved. We had to cross into Portugal since the river is the boundary-line that separates Spain and Portugal. There was a boat tour that took us down the international waters and allowed us to gaze at the colossal cliffs of stone: the land to our right was Spain, and to our left was Portugal… we were literally floating on the border. Our tour-guide spoke Portuguese; although it is a different language, I could surprisingly make out the gist of what he was saying. Whether he was describing the lichens that grew on the cliffs, or showing us the bird nests of the different hawks, I realized that Spanish and Portuguese are somewhat similar. Granted, I am definitely not an expert at Spanish, even more so at Portuguese, but many people have told me before that if you know one, you can understand some of the other.
Halfway through, the boat docked on one side of the river. Half-logs were used as stairs that let us to a small terrace where people had once lived. There was a small stone hut, accompanied by two smaller huts apparently used to house the pigs they would use for food. There was also an interesting see-saw contraption, with a bucket on one end and a stone weight on the other; apparently they used this to get water from the ground well. It was really interesting to see the resourcefulness of these people… We were allowed to stand on the upper deck of the boat when we steered back. The feeling being in the middle of the breathtaking scenery is indescribable.
Crossing back into Spain, we made our way to Fermoselle in the mountainous province of Zamora, which is part of Castilla y León. I did not realize that Spain is one of the most mountainous countries in Europe, second only to Switzerland. Fermoselle, like most other towns in Spain, has a charm of its own. Nestling on the top of a mountain, some of the houses were literally carved into the granite. It was also Fermoselle’s fiesta week, so I got to see the town’s procession. All of the people were dressed in their best, singing hymns of their patron saint: the Virgin Mary. All of the old ladies were using their Spanish fans to keep cool as they filed through the narrow streets.
We then went to la casa del Parque, an old Franciscan monestary that is now a museum dedicated to los Arribes del Duero, local art, and history. As interesting as it was most of us sat in the gardens outside, counting down the hours until lunch. During this time, the weather was still VERY hot, and we had to trek for ages, uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill… until we finally got to the restaurant. Lunch took nearly three hours… yes, three hours. After consuming heaps of bread and drinking my body weight in water, they brought out a full plate of paella for everyone. It was delicious :) The rice was perfect, and the flavors of the chicken, “mariscos” (seafood) and vegetables were infused into every bite. However, they then brought out a plate half covered in salad, and the other half a quarter of a rotisserie chicken. Needless to say, I was STUFFED and could only force myself to pick at this second plate; it was tasty too, but I did not have the stomach to finish it. They gave us cake for dessert, and then I had some café con leche.
Fermoselle is known for its wine; especially since every house has a “bodega.” Unlike its other known definitions, “bodega” in Spanish is an underground winery and cellar. Apparently, there was an open network of tunnels that connected all of the bodegas and allowed neighbors to socialize and share wine secrets. We looked at two bodegas, both of which were carved from the soil and rock of the mountain. It was amazing how naturally cool the bodegas were in comparison to the scorching heat. The underground ceilings are connected to trap doors in the street where the grapes would be dropped. Different connecting rooms in each of the bodegas were specialized for the various stages of wine making, transporting, and storing.
Our last stop of the day was at Javier’s parent’s house; Javier is the Spanish coordinator for the Wake Program who is originally from here. His parents have a fruit and vegetable garden… we were allowed to eat fresh peaches and figs which were extremely refreshing.
The ride home was better than the one earlier in the morning. I think my sheer exhaustion took away any acknowledgement of possible motion sickness. Needless to say, I slept extremely well that night and with good reason. After this tiring, yet one-of-a-kind day, I could not wait for our first long trip that weekend to Madrid! Conquering Spain, one mountain, one city, one cobblestone at a time…
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