Callosa del Segura

Like many Americans, I spent last weekend sifting through paper receipts and scouring electronic records, preparing my federal income taxes. I made the deadline--even uploading my electronic filing "early" on April 14, but I still had to send data and a paper check for a 2011 IRA contribution before the deadline, which thankfully was on April 17 this year. (Even though I lived in Massachusetts for many years, I didn't remember until I read emails on Monday that April 16 was Patriots Day, and that was why the deadline was April 17 and not April 16). But Patriots Day is not celebrated in Spain, so off I went to the post office on Monday and mailed my IRA paperwork.

But then I remembered that I had to file a form with the state of Ohio, and this form also had to be sent by earth post, not electronically. Oh, bother! Off we were again on Tuesday morning to the post office. Going to the post office is rarely a speedy errand in Spain, and it was especially long that day. Plus there was an irate customer complaining about something for twenty minutes in front of me in line.

When we finally finished in the post office, and went out again to the lovely spring day, we both felt that we deserved a day off in the sun. So we hopped back in the car and headed out of town to the small city of Callosa del Segura. According to a regional map, Callosa is prehistoric, dating from the Bronze Age, and its name may be a Greek word meaning "beautiful place," but transmitted to modern times through the Arabic, in which it meant "fortified castle." For me, it is first and foremost the mountain I can sometimes see outside my bathroom window, or rather, the town that is nestled up next to the striking craggy mountain in the distance.

After getting to Callosa, we found a parking place on the side of the Mercado de Abastos, the building housing the indoor market of fish, meat, produce and sundry stalls. We stopped first for sustenance in the form of cafe con leche and a shared media tostada. We read the morning newspaper with its dreary news of promised cuts in health care and education as an effort to repair the economy of Spain. Depressing news, but it was not too difficult to put it behind us on such a warm and sunny day.

We walked across the street and into the Mercado de Abastos--the lightest and brightest indoor mercado I have seen in Spain. I am on the lookout for local products to take to a conference as a door prize gift basket, but they have to be products that will pass through U.S. Customs, and the fruits, vegetables, and of course the meats and fish were way too fresh and unprotected to pass that test. So we just wandered through and left by  another door, and that is where we saw the large sign saying that the mercado had recently been restored and refurbished and that was why it was the lightest and brightest and cleanest-looking mercado I have seen in Spain.

We continued wandering through the streets, and a gentleman stopped us and insisted upon helping us find whatever it was we were looking for ... and directed us to the jardin: "Turn right at the next street and walk down until you see it--it is a beautiful garden," he said in English.

And it is. One side of the plaza is bordered by the Calle del Idioma Esperanto (see below). The opposite end fronts on to the local colegio, the elementary school, and since it was 12:30 or 1:00, the area was filled with women and men standing in groups and waiting for their young children to be released from  morning classes in time to go home for the traditional Spanish luncheon meal with all the family. In between is a large expanse with all types of trees and walkways, and always, that wonderful, odd-shaped Callosa mountain in the background.

It's easy to get in to Callosa--you just follow the mountain. It was harder to get out. We turned the GPS on, but Gloria had not caught up with the construction that was happening, and we found two desvios (detours) on the way (or was it one desvio viewed twice?). At any rate, we made it home for a late lunch, even by Spanish standards, and then each went on to our usual afternoon activity, a siesta and piano practice for one, desk work for another. It was a good day.