Cooked in Cordόba

Cordόba was our third destination in Andalucía and the place appeared to be so startlingly desolate when we arrived that it reminded me of the setting in I Am Legend. In the scorching heat (it was a quite frightening 45°C at twenty past five), we briskly made our way to O’Connell’s Irish pub to catch the Wimbledon final between Murray and Djokovic which Robbie had been eagerly anticipating. Unfortunately, we had to contend with a delayed telecast and although Robs instructed his Mum to stop updating him on the match’s progress, his text did not get to her promptly enough. While we were watching the third set, just as Djokovic appeared to be regaining some momentum, ‘HE’S DONE IT!!’ arrived in Robs' inbox. The knowledge that Murray had won when we had attempted to watch the game as 'live' as possible, though frustrating for us both, did not prevent my English friend from enthusiastically reacting to certain points and from almost being reduced to tears when Murray fell to his knees in triumph.

A visit to a foreign place is always enriched when one has the privilege of knowing a local or two. We had the opportunity to meet Robbie’s former housemate when he lived in Barcelona, Julia, and her boyfriend, Danny, who met us at our hostel (named Hostal de la Fuente, it was more like a hotel than a hostel and we didn’t pay all that much for it). They took us on a walk along the streets of the city, passing the Puente Romano and the famous Mezquita, and through the narrow streets of the old Jewish quarter, before settling down in a tapas bar for dinner. We got to try some tasty salmorejo, a purée originating from Cordόba containing tomatoes, garlic, bread and egg white, and tiny Andalucían hamburgers.

Robs with Julia and Danny

We then made our way to Danny’s favourite bar which his friend operated. Large (they must have been the biggest I’ve ever seen), juicy, red tomatoes greeted us at the bar, together with two of Danny’s friends. One of them was a lady who was clearly inebriated and would intermittently burst into song (more like chanting, actually). We got to sample what seemed to be the bar’s signature cocktail (yes, containing those red and juicy tomatoes) and we had a bottle of Mayo each, a local beer which was quite strong at 6.8%. Sticks of carrot and cucumber dipped in gorgeous hummus accompanied our drinks, together with those red and juicy tomatoes, sliced and topped with vinegar and salt. We had the privilege of being served the largest one on the bar and Robbie found himself discovering the joy of eating tomatoes in their raw form, a testimony to their natural delectability. It was nice seeing Robbie catch up with his old friends and their hospitality helped to give Cordόba a warmer, more personal character.  

Inside the Mezquita

Our next day began at the Mezquita, Cordόba’s most renowned attraction. Dating back to the 8^th Century A.D., the Mezquita is a monument to Andalucía’s Islamic past when Cordόba had been the Islamic capital on the Iberian Peninsula. After the Reconquista, a cathedral was built inside the mosque itself and today, Mass is observed within the walls of the Islamic building. Contrary to our expectations, entry before 10 a.m. (as stated in my Lonely Plant guide) was not free of charge. In fact, there was a queue when we arrived at quarter to and it didn’t look like one could have entered before 10. The introductory flyer contained language and a tone that conspicuously betrayed a clear, pro-Christian sentiment. Although some Cordόbans may claim that the place is not a cathedral but a mosque, the cathedral inside, added in the 16^th Century, juxtaposed with its surrounding Islamic pillars and arches, ensures that the place is probably best (and most objectively) described as an architectural hybrid.

Vantage Point @ the
Torre de la Calahorra

Leaving the cool interior of the Mezquita and going back out into the Cordόban heat, we crossed the Puente Romano and headed towards the Torre de la Calahorra. It was amazing that both Robs and I missed the entrance and ended up combing the entire circumference of the tower before realising that it had been right in front of us as we approached the structure from the bridge. The tower has been converted into a small museum touching on the city’s Christian, Judaic, and Islamic traditions, the exhibits bringing to life Cordόba’s multicultural past. The short climb to the top affords one a good view of the Mezquita on the other side of the Rio Guadalquivir and its impressive façade was vividly reflected in the river.

Jamon Iberico!!

After having what was undoubtedly the worst cafe con hielo of our trip, we met Julia who brought us to the Mercado Victoria where Danny worked as a cook. It was sheer bliss surveying the range of food and beverages on offer after entering the cool marketplace on quite empty stomachs. We were able to savour a variety of food, such as corn-flavoured salmorejo with a topping of caviar (courtesy of Julia), morcilla slices ‘impaled’ on a stick and sumptuous paella prepared by Danny. Not to forget the jamon iberico from Covap (a livestock company from Cordόba itself) which I couldn’t help but fall in love with. Writing this, I wish that I had been less self-conscious of the inner Asian tourist in me and that I had taken a few photos of these dishes. Savouring such a variety of good quality Spanish delights, accompanied by refreshing gazpacho and freshly-squeezed watermelon and strawberry juices, we were to find relief from the assault on our senses and our senses of taste and touch were temporarily satisfied. In fact, I may have gone a little too far (food has always been a vice, especially on my travels) and was labelled 'pregnant' by Julia. 

Julia had stated that we were 'crazy' when we told her that we were going to continue walking around Cordόba in the afternoon. Her comment was vindicated as our hitherto siesta-less trip began to take its toll on us. Ice-cream in an air-conditioned parlour was too difficult to resist and we also abandoned our objective to reach the distant hills from which we had hoped to get a view of the city. On a positive note, we were out long enough to see the intensity of the sun reduce enough to get a nice polaroid shot taken of us with the Mezquita (courtesy of a Chinese tourist).

The Puente Romano

Julia and Danny accompanied us on the walk to the train station where we caught our train back to Sevilla. Having bid farewell to our lovely hosts, I probably speak for the both of us when I say that the train ride was a welcome break as we watched the slow, Spanish sunset embellish the fields of sunflowers with a warm, orange coat, affording us a sight so serene I couldn’t help but sink into a deep slumber – before being rudely woken up by our water-bottle falling on my sensitive area. 

P.S. This will probably be my last travel post for a while and publishing it helps me to formally bring my time in Europe to a close. Mark Twain said that 'Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness,' and visiting the various places and meeting, as well as travelling with, different individuals have served to make my overseas education a more complete one. I'm grateful for the travel opportunities during my three-year stay in England and for the privilege of having a number of awesome travel companions to share the experiences with. With a click of the 'publish' button, I hope to wake myself up to the fact that I'm finally back in Singapore for good.