The Daily Diary of a Wandering Restaurateur
The Road to Cordoba

It was going to be easy, right? The garage was just down the street from the hostal. Just pick up the car, drive it back up toward the hotel, make the double turn through the alleys (I knew which ones) to avoid the one-way streets and I'd be back at the hostal. Then all I'd have to do is pull up in front of the bike shop for a moment, pick up Margene, load the car and hit the road. What could be easier?

Remember the old American Express line, "Don't leave home without it?" That bit of wisdom goes for your international GPS unit as well!

Picking up the car was painless enough, but the street was one way (in the wrong direction) by the garage so I had to turn away from where I wanted to go. The GPS unit was back at the hostal with the bags, of course, but my Mark IV direction bump is usually pretty good so I wasn't worried. Just make three right turns, a left on the main drag and I'd be back on track. That was good in theory but didn't account for (LOTS of) one-way streets heading away from where I wanted to go, (LOTS of) detours due to construction and the random pattern on the Granada streets.

The bottom line is that I took an extended tour of downtown Granada without ever being sure where I was. About half an hour later (with the help of a friendly store clerk) I finally spotted the big Spanish flag in the roundabout two blocks from the hotel and knew where I was. All I had to do then was get there. This would require that I drive down the taxis-only main drag, make two illegal turns and I'd be there. Piece of cake! (Good thing it was fairly early on a Saturday morning and there were few cars (or cops!) on the road!)

The run to Cordoba was smooth but without much to recommend it, scenery-wise. As we arrived in Cordoba we saw a huge ferris wheel and an ornate gate of some sort ... although it didn't appear to be a gate to anything in particular. There were lots of people walking around but we didn't figure all of that out until later. Our trusty GPS brought us into town about noon ... not to be confused with directing us to our hotel. In fact, Gertie (the GPS has a female voice) directed us across the river to the old section of town, then left on a dead-end street. She wanted us to take a right at the end and double back on the street above ... but there was a problem.

Gertie's surprisingly good but she's not perfect. There was, in fact, a street going off to the right but it was closed off by a row of posts so that turn wasn't going to happen without severe front end damage to the car! So we turned around and figured if we got far enough on the other side of town, she would compute an alternate route. Another local tour ensued but Gertie was set in her ways and wouldn't calculate a Plan B. Finally, I got to where I hoped was close, left Margene with the car parked illegally and hoofed it around the corner in search of the hotel ... and there it was! The old Mark IV still has some juice left!

The guy at the desk of the Hostal Almanzor spoke no English but did manage to find me on the reservation list and I was able to communicate that I needed to park the car. He took me down to the corner and up the street a ways, hit a button on his key chain and a big door into an underground garage magically opened. Perfect ... except how was I supposed to get there? The street was one way and I was at the wrong end of it.

He indicated that I should just make the illegal turn, drive half a block the wrong way up the one-way street, hit the magic button and park in the garage. My life seemed to be repeating a pattern today! ... but I was past the point of caution or caring and did what he suggested. I got a few dirty looks from the cab drivers and an angry honk or two, but it was (finally, happily) mission accomplished!

This was pretty much our entry into Cordoba. Turns out this is the week of the Feria (Spring Fair) which is rather like Spring Break for everyone. Lots of party tents, dress-up (more on that in a minute), celebrating and from appearances, serious over-consumption. It looked like a real good time was being had by all.

They were cleaning our room when we arrived, so we walked 50 feet to Garum 2.1, a self-described bistronomic tapas bar, for some pichos of the acorn-fed Iberian ham we have come to love and a frosty beverage. Both were excellent and very welcome! But through the grate on the front window, we started noticing boisterous groups of (mainly) young people in costumes of some sort and started wondering what was going on.

It appears that Saturday is dress-up day at the Feria. Age and gender did not seem to be a limiting factor. The ladies were beautifully decked out ... and they knew it. They were loving the attention as they posed for photos for turistas, locals and each other. It was all so very Spanish.

Our hostal is right on the edge of the old quarter of the city so we got out and explored a bit. The arch was (almost) built to give King Philip II a royal welcome, but he arrived before it was finished so the job was canceled! The area is the old Jewish quarter and thrived until the Spanish Inquisition. The narrow winding streets offer a break from the sun (it is hot again!) and will probably get more exploring tomorrow. The big attraction is the Mezquita, a massive former mosque, now with a 16th-century cathedral rising up from the middle of it. This was once the center of Western islam and the heart of a cultural capital that rivaled Baghdad and Istanbul. The tour groups were everywhere and we were simply too tired to try it seeing it today, but it is definitely on the calendar for tomorrow.

When I first saw Burger King and Subway in the old quarter of town I thought, "There goes the neighborhood." There's something that's just not right about that ... although I suspect that some of the restaurants in town are part of multi-unit chains, just more local ones. THE place to go in Cordoba is Bodegas Campos, one of the oldest and most celebrated operations in town. We dropped in for a drink in their Taberna around 6:30 but the kitchen didn't open until sometime after 8:00 and our stomachs have remained on a US routine so didn't want to eat that late. We briefly considered trying to bring home an Iberian ham but couldn't take the chance that it would be confiscated by US Customs. We'll just have to come back ...

[Itinerary Page]

© 2012 Restaurant Doctor