Alhambra/The Constant Princess (4)

In the past couple of weeks, I've been blogging about Alhambra and the novel The Constant Princess. First, I chose excerpts about the young Catalina's first impressions as she walks into the Alhambra vía the Justice Gate. Then, it follows her as she becomes accustomed to the many palace rooms and courtyards. Eventually, as she moves to England and Wales, she becomes homesick and tells her young husband about one of her favorite places, The Courtyard of Myrtles. For the final part of the series, I chose an excerpt in which Catalina dreams of her dead husband walking in the gardens. I paired this with pictures of the Generalife, a compound of more rooms and courtyards historically connected to Alhambra by a bridge spanning a ravine. (Alhambra, Generalife and Albayzin together make up a UNESCO heritage site.) 

Generalife

The night before my betrothal to Prince Harry, I have a dream so lovely that I do not want to wake. I am in the garden of the Alhambra, walking with my hand in Arthur’s, laughing up at him and showing him the beauty around us: the great sandstone wall which encircles the fort, the city of Granada below us, and the mountains capped with silvery snow on the horizon.“I have won,” I say to him. “I have done everything you wanted, everything that we planned. I will be princess as you made me. I will be queen as you wanted me to be. My mother’s wishes are fulfilled, my own destiny will be complete, your desire and God’s will. Are you happy now, my love?”He smiles down at me, his eyes warm, his face tender, a smile he has only for me. “I shall watch over you,” he whispers. “All the time. Here in al-Yanna.”I hesitate at the odd sound of the word on his lips, and then I realize that he has used the Moorish word “al-Yanna,” which means both heaven, a cemetery, and a garden. For the Moors heaven is a garden, an eternal garden.“I shall come to you one day,” I whisper, even as his grasp on my hand becomes lighter and then fades, though I try to hold him. “I shall be with you again, my love. I shall meet you here in the garden.”“I know,” he says, and now his face is melting away like mist in the morning, like a mirage in the hot air of the sierra. “I know we will be together again, Catalina, my Katherine, my love.”

¡Hasta luego!

Pit Stop: Amelia's

When two or more travelers meet, "where are you from?" inevitably gets asked. I am from the Philippines. And I spend most of my time in Manila. Some people I've met traveling are fairly young (under 30) and have not had the opportunity to travel to my country. They know of the country mostly from the internet and TV or from Filipino migrants to their country. A good number expressed interest in one day traveling to the Philippines. They often ask practical questions related to traveling here and while I have often tried to give helpful answers, I have also found myself wishing for a do-over.

One such do-over involves the possibility of driving around the country. 

On a jetfoil between Macau and Hong Kong, I met "Cristiano," a Portuguese boy whose first big trip outside of Western Europe had been to the United States as a 19 year old. He has fond memories of driving across several states with cousins whose parents migrated to the US while his own stayed in the old country. He said that while he was quite happy living  and working in HK and Macau, he misses getting in a car and getting lost in the open country.

I assured him that notwithstanding frequent complaints of bad roads in the country, it was entirely possible to drive around in the Philippines. On that short jetfoil ride, we even ran through possibilities of driving from the airport in Manila (or actually, Pasay?) to Clarke, which also has an airport, and then to Subic, which has sailing. Finding places to stay there would be easy enough with Google. Driving to places like Baguio, Sagada, and the Hundred Islands would require more planning and googling.

And a knowledge of pit stops. 

It's easy enough to google routes and decent places to stay when traveling around the country. Unless you are very familiar with a particular route, however, planning your pit stops are more difficult.

Three things are required of a pit stop: (1) A decent toilet, (2) Food and drink, and (3) Petrol. If the coffee is decent and the wi-fi is free, so much the better. (For comparison, I had formerly written about what is not a pit stop)

If you ever find yourself driving along the National Highway (aka Maharlika Highway; aka Pan-Philippine Highway) in Bambang, Nueva Vizcaya, my pit stop suggestion is Amelia's. 

Amelia's is a diner behind a gas station selling MG Oil, one of the few independent players in the country's petrol industry. The architecture and interiors are actually quite pretty. And reassuringly very clean. Fortunately, this cleanliness extends to the toilets.

Although billed as a café-cum-restaurant, it would be better to think of it as a diner. The food is pretty basic—sandwiches, some noodle dishes, soda, iced tea, and some non-instant coffee drinks. If you're not driving, you can even knock back a beer or three. Nothing fancy. Also nothing regional. There's also a convenience store at one end selling bottled water, canned goods, and soda as well as travel-size soaps, toothpastes, and tissues. Convenient indeed.  

A view of the counter, tables, and convenience store through the eyes of a decaffeinated traveler inexperienced in the ways of a panoramic shot

Leave your expectations of Filipino hospitality securely locked inside your trunk, however, as the service here is indifferent. If unfamiliar with the food, rely on the pictures on the menú as you are unlikely to be enlightened after talking to the staff. And, no, whatever it is you are pointing to, it is unlikely to be vegan. And while you wait for the food, take advantage of the free wi-fi and e-mail your loved ones, check your maps, and read the news from around the world. You'll have plenty of time to do all of those before your food arrives.    

Amelia's Café and Restaurant
MG Oil, National Highway, Brgy Macate
Bambang, Nueva Vizcaya
Phone Number +63 927 988 0967
Php ∼200 per head
       

Slashed! Part 2

I previously wrote about how my favorite purse got slashed. Then I was told of someone who mends similarly damaged bags and luggage, price dependent on the kind of work required. 

About 11 cm. Yup! It was gaping!

Turning the bag inside out, the cut is not really that obvious.

About 2 cm on the inside

Alhambra/The Constant Princess (3)

This is the third installment of my Alhambra-The Constant Princess mash-up. In the second installment, I deliberately did not include pictures of the Courtyard of the Myrtles because further in the novel, when they are in Wales together, Catalina describes this particular spot to Arthur.

“I shall tell you about my home,” she offered.
“All right.” He gathered the purple blanket around them both and waited… “And then where shall we go today?”
“Today we shall turn right and go into the Court of the Myrtles.”
He closed his eyes, trying to remember her descriptions. “A courtyard in the shape of a rectangle, surrounded by high buildings of gold.”
“With a huge, dark wooden doorway framed with beautiful tiles at the far end.”
“And a lake, a lake of a simple rectangle shape, and on either side of the water, a hedge of sweet-scented myrtle trees.”
“Not a hedge like you have,” she demurred, thinking of the ragged edges of the Welsh fields in their struggle of thorn and weed.
“Like what, then?” he asked, opening his eyes.
“A hedge like a wall,” she said. “Cut straight and square, like a block of green marble, like a living green sweet-scented statue. And the gateway at the end is reflected back in the water, and the arch around it, and the building that it is set in. So that the whole thing is mirrored in ripples at your feet. And the walls are pierced with light screens of stucco, as airy as paper, like white-on-white embroidery. And the birds—”
“The birds?” he asked, surprised, for she had not told him of them before.
She paused while she thought of the word. “Apodes?” she said in Latin.
“Apodes? Swifts?”

One end of the Courtyard of Myrtles. No swifts today though.

The other end of the Courtyard of Myrtles, with the pool reflecting the door and arches.

A lot of the surrounding text are hard to read—cringe-worthy declarations of passion which I suppose are there since this is a historical romance afterall. But when Philippa Gregory is describing the Moorish palace, Catalina's longing for home is believable and one feels sorry for the young girl who has to make a new life in a foreign country.

(To be continued.) 

NOT a pit stop

A while back, I had given advice to "Cristiano," regarding whether it was possible to go on road trips here. What we neglected to tackle was the topic of pit stops.

This is NOT a pit stop: 

A bus stop in Mabalacat. Which apparently is not pit stop.

In a country with plenty of fresh produce and a variety of cuisine often dictated by the unique characteristics of the different regions, these stops sell food-like substances, bastardized versions of real food, hegemonic fare, or strange ítems that fall under two or more of the abovementioned categories. Look into the picture and you may be able to identify biscuits, chips both local and international, hotdogs,"chicharon," cup noodles, siopao in a non-steaming steamer,and soda. I tried the siopao which came out of the so-called steamer room temperature. The dough was tough and papery and the "asado" filling inside looked like the the cross-section of a used sanitary pad. Gross! 

You know how travel snobs like to say that unless you are eating what the locals are eating, you're a tourist and not a real traveller? Well, locals hang out here. And eat here. But I don't really suggest you do the same.

Alhambra/The Constant Princess (2)

I celebrated my first month as blogger by experimenting with the idea that travel and fiction are synergistically satisfying by publishing a piece excerpting Philippa Gregory's The Constant Princess then adding images of the Alhambra in Granada, Spain.

Going further into the novel, Gregory lets us into the young Catalina's point of view.

Their very names are a poem: the Golden Chamber, the Courtyard of the Myrtles, the Hall of the Ambassadors, the Courtyard of the Lions, or the Hall of the Two Sisters. It will take us weeks to find our way from one exquisitely tiled room to another. It will take us months to stop marveling at the pleasure of the sound of water running down the marble gulleys in the rooms, flowing to a white marble fountain that always spills over with the cleanest, freshest water of the mountains. And I will never tire of looking through the white stucco tracery to the view of the plain beyond, the mountains, the blue sky and golden hills. Every window is like a frame for a picture: they are designed to make you stop, look, and marvel. Every window frame is like whitework embroidery—the stucco is so fine, so delicate, it is like sugar work by confectioners, not like anything real.

The Courtyard of the Golden Chamber (Patio de Cuarto Dorado)

The vault of the Hall of the Ambassadors

Too bad the Courtyard of the Lions (Patio de Leones) was right in the middle of being spruced up.

The ceiling at the Hall of the Two Sisters (Sala de Dos Hermanas)

(To be continued)

Blueberry Scones

None of the overly shiny, weirdly glistening things that dare call themselves scones.

Flush from my wonderful apple cinnamon scone experience, I went to a Starbucks to score another awesome pastry. But alas, the scones are apparently exclusive to Reserve branches. And worse, I had my heart set on a scone that the food at a regular branch just did not promise the same amount of happiness. 

So the next time I went to a Reserve branch, I got this:

Blueberry scone from Starbucks Reserve

… and it was gorgeous. The same wonderful buttery crust and sweet blueberries. I'm psyched to try out the savory one soon.