From Barca to Burgos

We left Barca and headed West across the Aragón basin and along the Ebro Valley to Zaragoza. It lies in the centre of a triangle formed by the Pyrenees to the north and the Sistema Ibérico ranges to the south and east. Along the plain fields that held corn, grain or sunflowers stretch as far as the horizon, the surfaces of which are covered in brown stubble, a reminder of a recent close shave with a combine harvester. Every square centimetre of arable land is utilised. Closer to the mountains there are hillsides of fertile fields fenced and terraced by fate of nature and the hand of man. A haphazard patchwork of offcuts, copper coloured with here and there the green patina of new growth showing through.

Zaragoza like many cities in Spain has had many rulers and cultures shape its destiny. We managed to arrive during one of the most important festivals. We were lucky enough to catch the last two days of the Fiesta del Pilar. The main day is the 12 October which coincides with Columbus Day. There are processions through the street by all the local communities all in traditional clothing. Three generations dressed beautifully, dancing and singing through the centre of town. Castanets clicking, Spanish guitars, Cuban Jazz, Brass Bands, Latin American music it had it all. On Saturday the procession was the Offering of Flowers to the Virgin of Pilar and on Sunday the Offering of Fruits where they offer their typical regional dishes to St. Mary and donate them to charities. The city was packed and everyone had dressed for the occasion. A fabulous weekend.

We headed out on Monday morning for Madrid. The weather had turned, the rain started to fall and the nights were freezing. We were rugged up for our visit but still had a great time here. Madrid is a wonderful city to just get lost and found in. You could spend a month here and still be discovering new hidden corners to explore or just sit and watch the world go by. And if your hungry there is always the San Miguel Market. Just a few Spanish steps away from the impressive Plaza Mayor. Here you will find a veritable cornucopia of delectable fare that would satisfy any hungry traveler. The colours; the flavours; the aromas; the variety; the displays; the hustle; the chatter and the satisfying smiles on the faces of the patrons is heartening. Whether you're a gourmand or just a hungry tourist you'll find a meal to please here. And don't forget the ugly fish at El Señor Martín. Our one disappointment was that Costa has closed its Coffee Shop here.

We left at 8am in the dark and headed North. The sky was threatening but the traffic discarded threats and went straight to unprovoked assault. We were bludgeoned for an hour before it gave up and took its anger out on those left behind us. We had crossed the central mountain range and were heading across the Meseta Central, the massive high plateau of central Spain, before the sky made good it threat. The rain was constant all the way to Burgos.

Burgos is the crossroads of Northern Spain. It was a major waypoint on the Camino de Santiago and the capital city the Crown of Castile. The city was only briefly occupied by the Moors and therefore no real evidence culturally or architecturally can be found here. The old town is a beautifully preserved amalgam of classic medieval buildings and contemporary style store fronts. Because the city was built around the base of a hill overlooking the River Arlanzón its streets are winding and some of its plazas are irregularly shaped. The plaza in front of the cathedral is a bent square but the Plaza Major is quite astonishing in all of Spain, with a long curved side facing three odd angles opposite creating a distorted diamond shape. The riverside of the city is covered both sides with long tree lined promenades, squares, gardens and parks that stretch for over 5 kilometres.This is quite literally one of the most beautiful cities in Spain.