Spain & Portugal 1974

[htmb]

Three days before my 22nd birthday my baby sister, the smartest, sweetest sister a person could have ever have, died of cancer. After her funeral I returned to the University of Florida, took my final exams, and moved back home to live with my parents after four years of being semi-autonomous.

I felt responsible for my parents and had always been able to bring them a lot of joy in the past, but this was different. They were absolutely devastated by the loss of their 12 years old daughter, as you can imagine. My younger brother was away in the Navy, so though I had been offered a job in southwest Florida, I decided my place, for awhile, was at my parents' home.

It also happened that just before I moved, my college boyfriend, with whom I was madly in love, left on a six week European trip with his copy of Europe on $10 a Day and a hometown buddy. Not great timing, and I am sure my parents were even more concerned about me than I was them, as I moped around the house. Within just a few weeks of moving home my parents decided I should travel to Spain and Portugal with close family friends who were preparing to leave on a two week trip. I really didn't want to go, but was torn between wanting to do something they might enjoy vicariously and burying my head under the covers for the next several weeks. So I went...

[htmb]

While I had flown several times in the United States, and had driven by myself all over the southeastern states, I certainly was not someone who would be considered well-traveled by today's standards. This was my first trip out of the country, and I remember getting on the L1011 aircraft in New York and laughingly thinking to myself that we weren't going anywhere because the airplane was definitely too large to get off the ground.

Take off it did, and I still remember being in the air and, the sophisticate I was, ordering a cocktail to go with my dinner. It cost a dollar or two, and I gave the stewardess, as they were called then, a $5 bill. Later, when I reminded her she hadn't returned my change, she practically bit my head off and said she certainly wasn't going anywhere and would return my change later. Funny, the details we remember from years ago.

As mentioned in an AnyPort thread about flying, the aircraft on my transatlantic flights were less than half full, so I stretched out across four or five middle seats and slept across the Atlantic to and from Madrid. We flew Tampa to NYC (JFK?); NYC to Madrid, but I think we may have stopped in Nova Scotia to refuel.

Though I knew my traveling companions well, it was like traveling with my parents. At 22, I was grown, but then not really an adult. They were in their mid to late forties, and seemed ancient to me. All five of us were Catholic, so you can bet there were to be Spanish and Portuguese cathedrals in my future.

Don had emigrated to Florida from Cuba and he was married to Maria. I really liked Don a lot, as he had a great sense of humor. Maria and her brother, Jack, were children of Spanish immigrants. Their father worked in the Ybor City, Tampa, Florida cigar factory most of his adult life and never learned to speak English. Jack, as my father's best friend, was the one I knew and liked the best of all. I related to him more than the others, as he seemed the most young at heart. Jack is an amazing individual who got a very wonderful education and still works in a professional field. Jack's wife was a local Florida girl and very kind person named Kay. (Of course, I've changed their names since two are still alive. Lets hope I don't mess them up later!)

This trip to Spain and Portugal was going to be a pilgrimage of sorts for Jack and Maria. They still had a lot of family in Spain, most of whom they'd never met, and the plan was to seek out the cousins who lived up in the mountains to the northwest of Madrid. And while I had taken so many history classes I almost had enough credits for a minor, my focus had been on U.S. and Florida History. My big, yellow European history textbook, used in a class taught by a long ago forgotten professor, had been a great doorstop, but not good for much else. I would be learning history as I went.

[htmb]

As a twenty-two year old college graduate I was sophisticated in some ways, and clueless in others. My life had been focused on family, friends, and always striving to do right. I was a fairly calm, clean-cut, and dependable young woman who worked hard and wasn't much of a party person compared to others of my generation, if you get my drift. I had many talents. I could dance, play piano, ride a horse bareback, and barefoot, all day long, drive my way around the city of Atlanta (without a GPS), herd cattle and help castrate a calf, but one thing I could not do was take a good photograph.

So, this is a disclaimer. I was a horrible photographer. My old photos from 1974 are okay. Just okay. And I'm not really sure why I took the pictures I did. They certainly aren't framed very well. The color has also faded a good bit, but I will see what I can do to brighten them up with photoshop. Mixed in with my photos I will add some of the the postcards I purchased while on my trip. You'll be able to tell the difference, I am sure.

[mossie]

That must have been a great adventure for you. I'm sure your photos are just fine, we are all super critical of our own efforts, so we are curious to see them.
Your parents did the right thing, losing your sister at that time was really tough, and for your boy friend to desert you as well put the icing on the cake.

[Deleted]

First trips abroad are always an amazing discovery. Since I was a "transatlantic" baby, neither continent was "abroad" for me, so I had to wait until the first time I flew to Asia to be slapped in the face with a whole different civilization to which it was necessary to adjust.

[htmb]

It's funny how large swatches of memory can disappear, but some events are as clear in your mind as if they happened yesterday. I remember little bits and pieces about Madrid and the hotel where we spent five or six days.



Apparently the Castellana Hotel had been the "go to" place in the late 1950's for glamorous movie stars such as Ava Gardner, Gina Lollobrigida, and Sophia Loren. I don't remember seeing any movie stars, but I do recall sweet-faced elevator boys and kind bellmen who would help me with my Spanish as I tried to learn the vocabulary I'd need for my next local excursion.

The hotel, now called the Hotel InterContinental Madrid, was built on the site of an 18th century palace, and parts of the palace - chimney, marble fireplace, a Carrara marble meeting room, and an area for horse drawn carriages - were retained in the new construction. Mostly I recall dark woods and attentive service. I also remember with fondness how my four chaperones checked my room each night - under the bed, behind the bathroom door, and behind the draperies - making sure no bad guys were lurking in the dark.

Our first trip outside the hotel was to the Plaza Major, which dates back to the mid 16th century.




It was in walking distance to our hotel, as was the Prado Museum. A visit to the Prado convinced me that I find most of Goya's work dark and depressing. Like most Americans traveling to Europe for the first time, I was impressed with how old everything was in comparison to the U.S. for me, that feeling has never gone away.

[htmb]

Jul 30, 2013 7:32:50 GMT mossie said:

That must have been a great adventure for you. I'm sure your photos are just fine, we are all super critical of our own efforts, so we are curious to see them.
Your parents did the right thing, losing your sister at that time was really tough, and for your boy friend to desert you as well put the icing on the cake.

Yes, Mossie, my parents were usually right. I should have listened to them more.

The first couple of photos were postcards, so don't think I was exaggerating my lack of photography skills. The worst is yet to come.

I just got a bit of a shock as I was looking for a little item I have on my desk from Toledo. There next to it was my stack of "favorite things" I never look at, but keep. I had really forgotten that I bought a thick book about Toledo, plus I have a plastic envelope that includes maps and brochures from other parts of the trip. More resources from the past!

AND the Europe in Color book I have had since I was 10.

[Deleted]

Oh wow, I always thought Europe was in black & white!

[htmb]

Jul 30, 2013 17:17:12 GMT kerouac2 said:

Oh wow, I always thought Europe was in black & white!

Only Paris in the wintertime.

[htmb]

After a couple of days in Madrid, Jack picked up our rental car and we took our first trip out of the city: a daytrip to Toledo. Our parish priest was from Toledo and we had gotten a lot of good tips from him about what to see.





Guess which photo is mine.

I was entranced by Toledo. It was like no place I had ever visited. We parked the car outside the gates of the fortified old town and spent the day walking through the city, gawking at the gorgeous sights. I was especially awed by the metals and remember watching several craftsmen at work.




Knowing me, I purchased this book of photographs because I knew there was no way my Kodak Instamatic could capture the delicate art and architecture of Toledo.



I have no idea what Toledo is like today, but I would love to go back. We had the luxury of traveling in light crowds and seeing a fairly unspoiled and preserved medieval town. I would hope it's like that still today, but I have my doubts.

[lagatta]

In 1974, Portugal and Spain were on the cusp of monumental change... Last days of the Salazar and Franco dictatorships.

Your photo of Toledo is fine. Colour photos fade like that, I have one on my desk of myself at about 15 or 16, my mum, my two smaller cousins. Same fades tones.

[htmb]

Jul 30, 2013 20:42:11 GMT lagatta said:

In 1974, Portugal and Spain were on the cusp of monumental change... Last days of the Salazar and Franco dictatorships.

Yes, I found that out the hard way.

[htmb]

Another town we visited for the day was Avila, which was also a walled city.

I'm not much of a shopper, but of the few things i purchased on the trip, most were purchased in Avila. Here's one of the ladies after a day of shopping.


It had been really cold, so it was in Avila that I justified the purchase of a knee length, suede coat costing the equivalent of a whopping $28. A big splurge for me. I loved that coat very much and kept it for many years, even though I didn't have much use for it in Florida. I finally gave the coat away, but just the other day I found the silk scarf I'd bought in Avila to go with it.

[Deleted]

Thank you for taking the time and energy to share these memories with us HTMB.
So very special.
I too, love the faded tones that the pictures take on over time.
I'm looking forward to seeing more.

[htmb]

Many thanks, Casimira.

I will need to scan more pictures, but I was disappointed to find I'd removed my photos of Segovia from the album and had never put them back. Segovia was our first stop after Madrid. We spent a couple of nights there and I was just bowled over by the view out my hotel window. So, no picture......, but you can see what I saw here.

I loved Segovia and have had an interest in Roman roads, ruins, and aqueducts ever since.

We were apparently following not the path of St. James, but of James Michener. My chaperones had read Michener's book Iberia, and were using it as a bit of a guide book. Some of our hotels were the same as Michener's and the room where one of the couples stayed in Leon had been Michener's exact room.

[htmb]

From Madrid to Segovia and other cities to the northwest, we stopped at every cathedral along the route! By the time we pulled up in front of the cathedral in Leon (something you cannot do today), I had decided to stay in the car. Rain was pouring down and I was still getting used to having wine with lunch. A nice nap while they were inside would be just perfect for me.
I still get teased about not going into the cathedral. Apparently I’d missed the “best one of all!”

Here’s our little car. Note the luggage racks on top. We all had large suitcases that had to be hoisted on top before leaving each hotel. I certainly didn’t travel then in the same way I travel now!




Leaving Leon, we drove northwest up into the mountains. I remember the weather being fairly nice and not too cold at first, but as we climbed it began to snow. It was early April.

Continuing to climb, the road began to deteriorate and as we got higher we went round and round more switchbacks. The landscape became very rocky and the trees began to drop below us. It seemed only sheep lived up where we were going.

We were on our way to visit the cousins and I had no idea what to expect. They turned out to be wonderful people, who lived very modestly. Their house was quite tiny and constructed mostly of stone. It had one main room in the front and a kitchen in the rear. The rooms were so tiny it was hard for us to all fit inside, and there definitely weren’t enough places for us to all sit at once. I assume there were two bedrooms upstairs, but I never went up. If memory serves me properly, there was no indoor plumbing.




What I do remember most vividly were the wonderful food smells, as well as the kindness in the eyes of the family. They did not understand my Spanish, and I certainly didn’t understand theirs, but I could tell by how excited they were to see us that we were more than welcome to join them for a meal. I have loved Caldo Gallego ever since and find just smelling it brings back that special warmth from the small house in Gallicia.



Upon arrival at the home, after meeting everyone, including the neighbors, the patriarch of the family (bottom/right above) took Jack and me out behind the house where he proceeded to dig up a small section of ground. Buried in the earth were bottles of wine. He cleaned them up and brought them into the house for us to enjoy.



The last picture is of Jack and Maria (brother and sister), along with the matriarch of the family and her son.

[htmb]

There are so many blurred parts to my trip, I often kick myself for not keeping a diary. I know that after visiting the family we continued west all the way to Finisterre, Spain.




We also spent the day at Santiago de Compostela, though I have little memory. Shame on me! And it boggles my mind to think this is the only photo I have of the place.




We then drove south into Portugal and spent time in Porto. I am not sure if the next two photos are of Porto, but maybe Rikita, Lugg, or someone else familiar with the city will know for sure.

[htmb]

There is a lot going on in this next photo.




As I mentioned in Rikita's Portugal thread, Porto was a city in turmoil and our car was vandalized during the night. After having it repaired we continued our drive south to Lisbon, spending several nights on the Costa del Sol.

[Deleted]

I am absolutely loving all of the old photos.

Just like in France, it was practically obligatory to be shown raising a glass to the health of the visitors. I have to admit, though, that the men are wearing more hats than I would expect. I have some old family photos with the hats, but they date from the 1950's rather than the 1970's.

I totally love the photo with the matriarch of the family with the black scarf on her head. That is the most incredibly stereotypical image of old Portuguese/Spanish/Italian women from that period that one can imagine.

[htmb]

[htmb]

Kerouac, the two men wearing hats in the back of the large group picture were two of my traveling companions. I suspect they were wearing hats to keep warm, as it was very cold. I have no idea who the nicely dressed man in the middle was with overcoat and hat. I suspect he was one of the prosperous neighbors, just stopping by to greet us. Perhaps he was the mayor.

I also love the head covering of the old woman and was sorry she had removed it in all the other pictures.

Note the wine on the table has a label and that confused me for awhile, since the wine dug up in the back yard had none. Now I remember we also took wine, alone with a lot of other food gifts. I was actually a bit surprised at how much food we took to the family - we really stocked up - until I saw how little they actually had.

[htmb]

[bjd]

I believe the two city photos are indeed Porto. I remember that big bridge over the river. And the beach with the oxen is Nazaré -- the oxen were used to haul the fishing boats up on the beach. That went on well into the 1990s.

htmb -- your picture taking skills have improved dramatically! It's fun to see these old ones, but the pictures you take now are really much better. (The same can be said for my old pics from my first trip to Europe. I look at them, and think "what the hell was I doing?")

[Deleted]

The pink pantsuit in #19 must have really made an impression compared to the standard attire in Portugal.

[htmb]

Thank you for the information, bjd.

Actually, it's the camera that's improved!

Though my sense of style wasn't all that great either, Kerouac, I had nothing to do with the choice of my friend's pink pantsuit.

[htmb]

While in the Lisbon area we stayed in two different hotels for some reason. The first was the Hotel Estoril Sol, and in my 22 years I'd never stayed in a hotel room like the one I had there. It was fairly large, with a gorgeous view of the Atlantic Ocean, but what really fascinated me the most were the two fully complete bathrooms. Two bathrooms.....one person. I thought it bizarre.

On one of the most memorable days of the trip Jack, the most adventurous of the four "adults," and I walked to the train station and rode into Lisbon. I think the others were being very cautious because of our experience in Porto. This was also the first place I had ever seen blatant political graffiti painted on walls and buildings. It was very clear to us the country was experiencing a lot of turmoil.

Jack really was, and still is, my hero. Our train cruised along the coast and then followed the river. Though details escape me, we had a brilliant adventure and were able to get away from the holiday area and visit an everyday part of the city. It also gave me a good break from the ladies who were beginning to drive me a little crazy. I imagine the feeling was probably mutual.

Though I haven't seen Jack in awhile, I still talk to him from time to time. In his early eighties, he and his pink pantsuited wife still travel as much as they are able. In fact, Jack is my friend who flew to Cuba for a long weekend this past spring; a very unusual trip for an American to make.

[lugg]

What a super report, thank you Htmb. I really appreciate the time and effort you have taken scanning your old photos which are just so interesting in many different ways.
I was perplexed at first with the reference to Costa del Sol thinking that you had zig-zagged back to Southern Spain as I had never heard of that part of Portugal referred to in that way. You are, of course, quite correct but now it is more commonly known as the Silver coast ( Costa da Prata )

[htmb]

That tells you how much I know about modern day Portugal. I'm stuck back in the '70's. Thanks for cleaning that up, Lugg.


I still have a few more photos of Portugal and then Merida, Spain to scan before finishing up this walk down memory lane. I plan to get to them soon. Thanks for bearing with me.

[htmb]

After looking at the brochures I saved from the trip, I now see why we moved from the coast into a different Lisbon hotel. The second hotel was the Hotel Embaixador and its affiliated all “new” Casino Estoril.

I have a very vivid recollection of going to the casino and attending the floorshow. I also remember they forgot to tell me exactly what kind of show it was before hand.

I had no idea those people would be removing their clothes.



I wouldn't have cared, but it would have been nice to know ahead of time, especially since I was sitting with the equivalent of two sets of parents!

[bjd]

Did they allow you to go into the casino?

Your introduction to Europe was different from mine, for sure. We hitchhiked and stayed in youth hostels.