Spain (my first time) felt so much like California, it was crazy—& it goes both ways of course (California was Spain!). Expansive, dry rolling flatlands, small towns spread out & hidden from that central highway straight down the middle.
Cordoba was only like California in CA’s dreams. Impossible to encompass the finer details of the groundplan in the old city core (& rebuilds) from uncountable pasts—but one catches on. A sophisticated street plan (rarely cars): walkstreets, harmonious historic buildings, and especially patios/courtyards—everywhere in Cordoba and ancient as the city. Interior patios, exterior courtyards, walkways—& in a turn or two, an authentic, inexpensive restaurant to frequent.
The expansive patio of my hostess Cristina—behind its locked gate, surrounded by their two-story home with parts rented—is the center of their family & social life (like the smaller riads in Morocco, not coincidentally). My one-room, ground-floor apartment was separate, though not far—less upscale—ancient, gorgeous & cold, stone. Weak electric heaters are the norm, often under tables/tablecloths where folks sit, live, work, eat.
Cordovans are proud of their history as Rome’s capital, a Moslem capital for centuries, the blend of Jewish, Islamic, & Christian cultures the city is famous for—irresistible, fascinating. I walked much of the days, though it rains mid-Feb. to mid-March.
Again, a quiet life practicing, writing, working, planning, working out, cooking—except with this rich city one step out my door, its thousand-years sites. Barely in the car the month there—except two daytrips, to Sevilla and Granada, and a quick road trip to the white hill towns, staying in exquisite Grazalema.
Planning a concert fell perfectly into place: Cristina & Pepe not only serve lunch to like 10 people often—tenants, guests, & friends (traditional Cordovan dishes)—they also hold Sunday concerts for 40 in their patio, and she fit me right into that schedule. And another tenant—a great Turkish guitarist, well established there—accompanied me my 2ndset.
Cristina is a civic treasure in Cordoba: activist, leader, and inspiration. One Saturday she invited me & other (student) tenants to visit her sister Carmen’s sustainable farm deep in Andalucia’s back country. (Both sisters are in their 80s btw.) They converted an ancient stone granary into a beautiful home, grow several crops, orchards, many farm animals, have small, nice rentals—partly subsidized by the progressive govt. to keep farms vital. Hard hard work (plus tough bureaucratic hoops). For us, a big home-cooked meal (I think we were 8?) with many traditional dishes—baked eggs, farm animal meats, various veges, the ubiquitous salmorejo. I also had a cooking class with Cristina! And am hopeful—who knows? A wonderful Cordovan eggplant dish was a mainstay at my nearby restaurant (open 8-10 or so).
The concert went great—I saw a good number of tear-filled eyes. Baris learned 2 of my songs for after the pared-down (but scrumptious) lunch. I met amazing people. (The ages-old University of Cordoba is nearby.) If you haven’t been to Cordoba, plan it! Winter is a great time, if you don’t mind a little rain.
Finally, sadly, after pulling as close as possible (not!) & loading in a downpour, I drove back up the length of the country. After another wonderful Madrid dinner & night, I bussed straight across to Aveiro.
Portugal is trendy!—but I didn’t lead that life there. Aveiro, a historic, happening city by the west coast, was right across the estuary from me and where I did my Pop-up Concert. Coming from Spain—after grueling bus & bus station/ (closed) ferry sagas that I’ll spare you—I got my car in Aveiro and drove west & north, around & then onto & down a long, pristine beach–lined peninsula & nature reserve to Sao Jacinto on its tip, a (literally) backwater beach town, a peaceful local (former fishing) village quiet in early spring, mid-March to mid-April.
In this off-season beach town, it was cool along the river-estuary quay (or in the nearby reserve, or on the vast beach)—great for long walks. Small village shops scattered (3 little groceries), the sun in my kitchen in the afternoons, the morning neighbors hanging laundry in enclosed porches. Many glances & smiles with an attractive man working the grill at the peixaria (why didn’t I ask him his name?). My usual was grilled calamari with new potatoes & veges, which lasted me much of the week. Good cheap wine!
I was content with my big 2nd story concrete apt., the singular styles of the modest working-class homes, their practical, basic but so-Portuguese yards. Besides that favorite restaurant, I loved the bakery by the promenade curving along the quay. I didn’t drive much in Portugal either—sometimes to the vast windy beach park—over to Aveiro for my concert on the ferry when it re-opened (though I scouted my site on foot/ferry/bus before). Plenty of rain.
One several-day road trip to Lisboa—so appealing and comfortable (except for the parking—avoid having a car!!). Hills and history, stone and character and beauty. The regal refuge of Sintra nearby—stunning ceramic walls, captivating history.
My concert in Aveiro was one of my best—except I have zero record of it! That was an ongoing problem: I used my phone to bluetooth the songs to my amp, so the phone couldn't be taking pics! There my host lived far away; my villagers were cautious, reticent. This was perhaps my loneliest month. . . but that didn’t matter: one’s social meters shift. The thing I saw again and again—people everywhere mostly want the same things, are trying to be good humans, just want to live decent lives and connect with & enjoy their people and each other. They appreciated my greetings & courtesies in Portuguese, my shopping in their businesses, all of us living our lives. In this small insular town, I was just beginning to be accepted. A foreign woman—and alone (more on that another time!). But the Sao Jacinto village locals did warm to me, slowly.
I gave my Pop-up Concert in front of giant plaster shell sculptures along Aveiro’s central canal, near its turn basin. Folks out and about sat to listen right through, tried to hand me paper money in the wind (next time I’d be ready~). Best of all, folks in the Venetian-style boats on the canal (maybe a dozen per boat?) kept standing up and cheering me as their boats went by. So cool! I did four Brazilian songs in Portuguese, including the gem I’m releasing this time, and they liked that. My heart was full.
So now you know what my new release has to do with Portugal~ Chovendo Na Roseira, by the incomparable Jobim, is one of the loveliest songs in one of the most beautiful languages in the world. Give it a listen! (It's on the streamers too.)
https://kaymartinmusic.com/single/117929/chovendo-na-roseira
At that link under “info” you can see the lyrics & translation.
I should also let you know, my first release from the Prodigal Tomboy album, Lighthouse (thanks for all the wonderful feedback!) was accepted into a podcast of Indie Music called Rock the Vote, songs for peace and social justice~
If you haven’t heard Lighthouse, it’s here on my site: https://kaymartinmusic.com/track/2777551/lighthouse
Or you can hear it on any of the major streamers—listed as Kay Martin, with Fefe Lee~
The pic is Cordoba, Cristina (rt) & her sister Carmen giving me a tour my 1st night!
