Cartagena's Roman Theater

Thanks to the expert research and commentary of Jørn Frending, this week I learned a lot about Cartagena's history, and I enjoyed it.

Cartagena--Carthage in English--was founded in 227 BCE and has survived many high and low points in its history. The most impressive site for me was the Roman Theater, built in just four years, from 5 BCE to 1 BCE, a fact that is known with certainty because of a plaque at the west entrance referring to authorities in Cairo. This Roman theater was the westernmost in the Roman Empire and today is the second largest in Spain. Discovered in 1988, it is astoundingly well preserved and restored. Indeed, much restoration of ancient ruins is being undertaken now in Carthage, thanks to a mayor--she has been elected four times now--who understands the value (including tourist value) of restoration.

This theater was meant for the presentation of plays and oratory, as opposed to Roman amphiteaters, which were used by gladiators for their sport. It has numerous steep rows of stone seats, arranged in a semi-circle, surrounded by high stone walls to improve acoustics. A well-developed stage area provided place for entrances and exits on both sides, as well as a backstage where actors could follow the play in preparation for their own parts.

Later we also saw a well-preserved Roman street from the 1st C. CE and another site where archaeological students were hard at work. It takes about an hour to get to Cartagena from Torrevieja, and I look forward to going back and seeing how far they have come.

Changing to Winter Time

Europe changes time the last Saturday in October. For some reason that I cannot fathom, it's a week before the U.S. switches back to Standard from Daylight Savings Time, which they did just last night. I cannot keep track of this and each year I go through a week of disorientation when I have to think twice about what time it is where.

On Thursday morning we had coffee with a couple of people from Denmark who were here on a ten-day vacation. They had arrived the preceding weekend and we were all meeting up with the Danish Friends Club at 9:00 to embark on a day visit to Cartagena. We were a little early, but they were a lot early. Spring forward, fall back here, too--though the expression is not so nuanced. They had arrived before 8:00, because they had managed to live in Spain for five days and nights without becoming aware that Spain, as Denmark, had shifted time. Exact time is not important here, we agreed, when you are on vacation, or retired. Or working flextime, I added to myself.

Here we are now in what is called Winter Time, and winter has indeed arrived, more-or-less congruent with its set schedule and just as suddenly.

On Wednesday we woke up to 13 degrees Celsius. That's cold--about 55 Fahrenheit--especially when you are used to almost constant 80 degree F. temperatures, and especially when the wind is blowing, as it does frequently in a coastal climate. It was still pleasant in the sun, but the sun doesn't extend everywhere, and especially not to the coldest place in Spain. That would be inside the house.

In our part of Spain, at least, central heating in homes is rare. Neither in the house we are currently renting nor in any of the houses we have looked at for purchase have we yet seen central heating. Until recent times, I imagine people simply did without added heat in the winter time. Now, however, nearly everyone has one or more of the marvelous aire acondicionadoros mounted high on the wall of their living area and/or bedrooms. In the summer they cool with freon and in the winter they warm with electricity, all regulated with the same remote control device. They are not at all like the noisy window air conditioners I knew in the U.S. in the old days. They are wonderfully efficient in the small rooms and small houses of Spain, and quieter than a whisper.

But as always when the weather first turns cool, and whenever that may be, it is deemed "too early" to turn on the heat. So on Wednesday morning early, out came the early signs of winter:

First, slippers to cushion my feet against the cold marble and tile floors ubiquitous throughout the house. Nothing holds the cold like tile and marble!

Then, socks for the first time in months, and I put away my open-toed sandals and unearthed real shoes that cover my toes. Full-length slacks instead of the 3/4 length that I normally live in, and a long-sleeved shirt instead of one of my countless sleeveless tops. And then a neck scarf, because all my turtle necks are still packed away someplace else.

This is for inside the house. When I go out, I may grab a light jacket, but more than likely it will end up in my carry-all. I'll probably even have to push up my sleeves and stuff my scarf in my bag when I am out in mid-day. Especially if I'm walking on the sunny side of the street.

"This is Spain"

We've just come back from the commercial exhibition, "This is Spain," featuring about 150 booths with articles or services of interest to the foreign community in Spain. There was precious little Spanish spoken here--the exceptions were the guys directing maneuvers in the parking lot and the servers in the cafetería, where we had a café con leche and shared a tostada mid-way through our trek around the indoor and outdoor display areas.

I talked with a lot of people (all in English) and picked up a lot of stuff. Most of the offerings had to do with homes and various products needed to run them, business and education opportunities, health services, financial management, and burial plans. Here's a sampling of the info and gimmicks from my bag:

• One-day pass to the Sophia Wellness Centre with machines for guaranteed inch-loss (women only).
• One week "siesta" membership (go between 12:30 and 5:00 PM) at Howard's Health & Fitness--they also started me out with a free blood pressure test--99/65 !
• Brochures from Medcare private total healthcare clinic, total English-speaking, and from San Luis Clinic, treating psychological conditions including "retirement problems."
• Free samples and a quality demonstration of the Juicing Jack--fast, quiet, and easy-to-clean apparatus for smashing five fruits and vegetables into a daily tasty health drink. Good thing I don't have room on my kitchen counter for this 200€ device!
• A nutrition analysis shows that I need more potassium and a little more calcium...let's see...a banana milkshake daily?
• Brochures from IberTech computer repairs and The Post Room mailbox and wi-fi hot spot in Benijófar--always good to have technical back-ups!
• Intriguing news of a UK proxy server service, enabling me to surf the web virtually from the UK instead of Spain, and incidentally, get UK TV on my computer.
• A magnetic 2009 calendar from Euro Staff Solutions temporary agency.
• News from the San Miguel International College of Further Education, offering continuing education in various vocational fields, according to the British system.
• Best Wishes Spain, a quality stationery shop and English bookstore, with locations of existing stores and the opportunity to buy a franchise--my next career?
• Gorgeous pictures of Fireside's stylish, closed-system, remote-controlled, gas fireplaces--reading the brochure tells me now that they are made by the American company Heat & Glo.
• A free window sun shield for our new car, plus news about where to get oil changes and such, now that we no longer just take a car back to the rental agency when it needs service.
• Notice of Dramatic Licence's next presentation "Key for Two - A Farce," a chance to enjoy theatre in English and support The Alzheimer's Association.
• News of the next expo: a Christmas Fayre for all my Christmas shopping under one roof...

And the bag...most of my readers know that I have an astounding collection of canvas bags from various trade shows. Now I have one from Spain. Thanks, Costa Blanca News!

Oktoberfest in San Fulgencio

You don't have to read the statistics to know that many regions of Spain, from the Costa Blanca White Coast) in the north, to the Costa del Sol (Sun Coast) in the southwest, are filled with foreigners. You only have to go to the local hipermarket (ours is Carrefour, itself a French company) to hear a babel of languages: Spanish, yes, and English, but also German, Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, French, and others I cannot distinguish.

Many of the speakers are permanent residents, a large number of them pensioners or early retirees, who came originally for the sun and perhaps a less expensive standard of living. An increasing number are men and women in their thirties and forties who have left the northern climate to live and work in an area that is warmer in degrees Celsius but also, they say, in spirit. Almost universally people in this group say they are here for the lifestyle: they work hard during work hours, but here, as opposed to where they came from, there is time in the day for themselves, their children, and a social life outside the home.

Last Sunday we ventured out to the First Annual Oktoberfest in San Fulgencio, a small town close by that was recently reported to have more than 70% non-Spanish population in residence. We remembered an Octoberfest that we had been to years ago at Lake Quassy in Middlebury, Connecticut, and looked forward to German music, dancing, beer, and bratwurst with anticipation. Presumably the festival was being organized by the Germans of San Fulgencio. But not much of civic culture in Spain gets organized without the support of the ayuntamiento, or local government. So how Spanish would this be? How German?

The German-Spanish coalition got it "spot on," as our British friends say. The tent, with a capacity of more than 800, was not completely full on Sunday afternoon, but there were enough people there to keep the two entertainers very busy playing música típica of Bavaria, singing in German, and generally stirring up the enthusiasm of the crowd in Spanish and German. We seated ourselves at one of the wall-to-wall picnic tables, scanned the German-Spanish-English menu, selected our salchichas/sausages, and made a slight dent in the 50,000 liters of typical German beer that had been promised for the week-long festival.

At the table behind us were two German-speaking older couples. I bumped butts with one of the gentlemen (dressed very unlike my idea of a German, in cream-colored dress pants and a salmon-colored shirt) as we swayed to the music with our glasses lifted high. The table in front of us was occupied by two young Spanish couples, each with a young daughter. A stroller sat at the end of the table, but neither girl was in it--they were crawling all around the table and benches, dancing and clapping to the music. We exchanged lots of smiles but no words. I don't think a soul at the Spanish table understood a word of the German, and I'm pretty sure the Spanish phrases just flew by the Germans at their table, but both parties were having fun.

So did we. I don't understand much German, either, but I recognized the music and I can lock arms, sing la-la-la-la, and sway with the best of them.

Prosit!

Mediterranean Motion

I'm up early this morning because I played six games of pétanque yesterday. 

Usually we play on Friday afternoon, with a large group of members of the Danske Venners Klub, the Danish Friends Club. But this week the Danish friends held their Fall Fest on Friday evening, and pitching pétanque balls in the afternoon would have cut too deeply into the time required to don dress-up clothing for the "do."(I did, after all, have to put on stockings for the first time in months). 

After a full evening of gustatory indulgence on Friday, it seemed like a good idea to get out in the fresh air for a little motion (the very apt Danish word for exercise). Pétanque offers the perfect opportunity for some moderate bending and stretching. You bend slightly and stretch to toss the "pig" or "jack" onto the playing field, and then to throw out your three metal balls--each weighing more than a pound and less than two--trying to land them strategically and as close as possible to the pig, or at least closer than your opponent. (Wikipedia, I discovered this morning, has a good entry on the history, rules, and strategy of pétanque.) Then you get more exercise when you bend down to pick up your balls prior to continuing with the next play, and if you are lucky, or skilled, you may bend down to collect stones to line up in a row to record your points. There are, of course, some who make it too easy for themselves, by using a magnet on a string to pick their balls up so they don't have to bend down...but I think this defeats the charm of the leisurely, measured motion that sneaks a little bit of exercise into an afternoon in the sun.

Usually we play doubles with the Danes, and they have developed an ingenious way to match up teams and lanes so that you take your lumps on different fields each week and play with and against different people. Since only Johannes and I showed up for motion Saturday morning, we played singles against each other. Singles games go quicker--it takes less time to throw six balls than twelve--so we played six games instead of our usual three.

So we got double the exercise that we usually get. But we paused after three games for a little refreshment and a delightful conversation with another couple who had dropped by El Rancho in Los Montecinos to check out the playing fields. So who knows which way the scale tipped on the exercise-eating continuum? No matter. I think pétanque is a perfect complement to the Mediterranean diet, and a perfect antidote, as well.

And after all that exercise and fresh air, I went to bed early last night and therefore woke up early this Sunday in Spain.

Good intentions / Buenas intenciones

...or, why does this blog exist?

This is the third and last blogpost today. Don't think that there will be three blogposts every day! There won't even be one post every day. I've called this blog Sundays in Spain for a reason. I intend to write once a week, probably on Sunday.

What I write may have to do with what I do on Sunday. My husband, Johannes, and I are having a lot of fun exploring the diverse area that we live in, and we now have a car to get out and about. (Living for five years without owning a car is a topic for another blog.)

Or it may have to do with other things that have happened throughout the week, and that I take some time to muse about, and then write down on Sunday.

Writing is a large part of what I do professionally. But this blog, as a weekend project, exists mostly to tell my family and friends what's going on with my life. Anyone else who wants to read along and follow the thoughts of an American woman living on the Mediterranean coast in Spain is welcome. I'll focus on where I am and tell what I'm learning about Spain and Spaniards and all the other Europeans who have chosen to make the costas of Spain their home.

One of the reasons for doing this, of course, is discipline. I am of the opinion that the simple discipline of reflecting and writing is beneficial to the writer. I look forward to writing something outside of my professional interests. A lifelong researcher (I practiced as a librarian for many years) I will feel the demand to check my facts before clicking the Publish Post button. And I'm compulsive enough to make sure that I check and double-check the Spanish phrases that have to creep in to these pieces. And, oh yes, to keep it looking good and interesting for you, it will also force me to learn a few things about blog software and formatting and images, and so on...

So, I have the best intentions. Con la mejor intención. Check back next week.

Hasta la próxima.

Roman Villa in Santa Pola

Aside from our experience in the cafetería/cervecería Azahar (Orange Blossoms), the highlight of our short trip to Santa Pola was seeing the ruins of a Roman house right next to a lovely park lined with palm trees, "El Palmeral."

The historic marker was in at least four languages and told us that the villa was owned by wealthy people in the 4th century AD. It was quite large--you see only a couple of its seven or so rooms in this picture. There were beautiful ceramic tile floors. Both the tile work and stone walls were in good condition--well preserved or restored? I don't know, and though I thought I could go home and look this site up on the Internet to find a reproduction of the historic plaque or more detail, I haven't been able to find out much more about the villa.

There is more to investigate on another day.