Musings

Our room last night had a pair of those arched windows on the third story (second above ground floor) that have gold framing. I learned that if you live in a place with narrow streets and multi-story buildings, like this neighborhood, you may not see much sunshine.

Ah, there is sunshine after last night’s rain.

Is MaNachur offering some kind of irony in lighting up the wind turbines?

I wanted to see this church-castle-tower combo for the massive high walls on the tower. I did not expect to have the quirky bonus of arriving when the grounds crew was taking a break, leaving their equipment to mark the spots where they should resume, and highlighting that the priests rely on so much outside labor to strut their stuff.

This is the Castle of Xavier (Basque: Xabierko gaztelua), and the name Xavier/Javier is derived from the Basque Etxeberri meaning new house. [However difficult we thought Catalan was to grasp, I find Basque words impossible.] The Basque Jesuit cleric and famous proselytizer Francis Xavier (1506–1552; canonized 1622) was from here, taking the name of his hometown as his priestly cognomen (or whatever they’re called). Xavier is now used by many institutions, including Xavier University in Cincinnati, Ohio, to honor the man.

Changing gears, the is the entry area for the Villa Romana de Liédena, which was occupied from the 1st through 4th Cs AD, with its greatest size and decorative opulence at the end, including various mosaic floors. This was a villa, so an agricultural complex and a fancy dwelling complex merged together.

A visitor, it seems to me, would pass through the agricultural entry area and into this impressive patio that featured an open-water pool (the narrow-double-stones outline it) that drained toward the lower left of the photo and away from the house.

This large room was perhaps the core of the elite dwelling.

The villa’s location was chosen with this fabulous view of the Foz de Lumbier, or Lumbier Canyon, with the Río Irati in between, as well as the fields this villa controlled.

Next, we followed the Río Urrobi upstream a long ways. We had some precip, but thankfully it was too warm for the snowflake warning signs at the higher elevations to reflect our current situation.

Despite many signs cautioning us about open range animals, this is one of the first we’ve seen, only a trifle worried that we’ve stopped moving.

This is the typical domestic architecture in these parts…very different.

Sometimes, the homes are slightly fancier.

Our guesthouse is to the right, with the green shutters.

Next door is a church, with a portico over the entrance (seems unusual). Goodnight.

Posted at 2:42 PM | Comments Off on We enter Basque territory

Go to the trouble of getting plain yogurt, yet perhaps you want sugar with it?

Puffy cloud layers above.

Let’s walk up this scenic valley. What’s that curve in the rock wall?

What a giant, gorgeous cave! Archaeologists have found early Upper Paleolithic remains that show repeated short-term visits (not creating deep deposits), including hearths spaced at about 3m apart. These visits are interpreted as related to the seasonal migration of prey species like deer and horses.

However, current usage leans heavily toward the rock-climbing crowd. I count at least 20 safety helper carabiner lanyards, or whatever they are, on the small section of the roof, ready for the next upside-down adventurer.

Back on the road, we see signs of clearing.

Clouds below, nice.

No rain or mist, so we climbed a hill to see this now-scruffy Roman town now called Labitolosa. It had two bath complexes, and a curia and forum, so it was at least locally important in the 1st C BC (so pretty early); it supplanted an indigenous community.

Details of the big bath complex.

Descending, we could see how still the water of this reservoir was.

Our route away from that area took us through this stunning gorge.

Soon, we were out on what I’m calling the windy flats, here with a bonus tire sculpture.

Scattered towns seem lightly active with farming.

Much further along, we checked out these Roman aqueduct piers (actually vertical—it took a wide shot to get them all in).

The Roman town the water supplied is today called Los Bañales. This area was the forum. The later building complex in the background is called Ermita de Nuestra Señora de Los Bañales. One record I found dated some of its architecture to the 1740s.

Here’s a section of road connecting housing above the civic-ceremonial zone that included the forum.

Here’s the view down from higher up. The aqueduct piers are visible. This is looking east.

From the top, the light made the landscape look rather different when we looked to the northwest.

This area is separate from the civic-ceremonial and had many elite domestic complexes. I saw two parallel wide streets; this was the upper one. This settlement was later than Labitolosa, dating to the 1st C AD, so after the Romans had dominated this area for several generations.

Our hotel is within the old Medieval core of Sádaba, although the façades of the two buildings opposite our room look later. Recent demographic data indicates the highest population of the town was in the 1960 census. It’s less than half that as of 2021.

We heard a story on TV the other day about housing problems in Spain. I think they meant in the large cities, however, as the rural areas we’ve been passing through show a significant percentage of apparently maintained and usable housing that is not inhabited.

Posted at 3:46 PM | Comments Off on Drizzle, rain, overcast, sun

Today’s objective: cross the Pyrenees, and whatever else happened. Here’re some views through the windshield…. Driveway gate…

Railroad bridge for Le Petit Train Jaune.

Random flaking sign on building.

Road safety warnings. We did have a short period of precipitation in the dark hours, a spin-off from the Storm Éowyn system.

We didn’t know what this was driving by. Turns out its part of a 17th C fortification…to control access to the valley we’re headed toward.

Today’s roads don’t fit well into the spaces between buildings….

At the pass, we did see bits of snow on the ground, but just (thankfully) moisture on the road. Some cars that passed us, presumably from ski areas, wore 2 or so inches of new snow.

We were very pleased to descend into the Cerdanya valley, with its wide fields and pastures. And horses, many horses, all winter-shaggy. Most were heavy-bodied, the shape I associate with working horses. I thought I got a decent shot of grazing horses, but when I zoomed in, they were mules. Harrumph.

I was going to title this post something about border crossings. This was our first—out of France and into a small bit of Spain that’s entirely in France, called Llívia. It’s dominated by the castle hill, which we climbed up a ways, but only perhaps ⅓ of the way…which was plenty to get this good view of this part of the Cerdanya, and the church bell tower below us.

Then we crossed back into France, then back into Spain, and carried on until…I’m calling this Aduana Uno, that is, Customs One…for leaving Spain…

…and Aduana Dos, for entering Andorra. You want to read about a strange international situation, look up Andorra. The first thing we noticed was all the traffic exiting into Spain and backed up perhaps 2 km. Yikes. These motorists, we guessed, were headed home after weekending in Andorra, skiing perhaps.

We found Andorra gritty and traffic-filled, the main valley overstuffed with multi-story apartment buildings, and rather yucky. We ducked into a Carrefour and bought some lunch makin’s, then headed back to the traffic jam, and ate while nudging along. Summary: we went to Andorra for lunch.

Back in Spain, southbound took us out of the mountain rockiness eventually.

From afar, we both thought this looked like a mushroom spire. Turns out it was a stork nest providing the flare.

This rock face is just at the edge of the mountains.

And, if you face the opposite direction, you see the ruins of a Medieval bridge. The exposed “guts” offer insight into construction methods and engineering strategies.

The view from tonight’s room…sluggish river, and far more space riverside than we saw in Andorra….

Posted at 2:11 PM | Comments Off on Ups and downs

A beggar came by to watch the sunrise with me. Truth: it was more interested in begging than the view.

On the road, these snow-caps dominated our skyline to the northwest. We headed first into the mountains out of the photo to the right.

We drove most of the way to this ruin, walking the last hundred meters. This is the Église de Santa Helena de Rodes (sometimes Elena), and the ruins of the medieval town around the church, called Santa Cruz de Rodes. This is a satellite community about a half-kilometer from the Benedictine Monastery of Sant Pere de Rodes. The Monastery was famous for having small relics of THE Saint Peter, which justify the size of that complex, undoubtedly paid for by donations (eh-hem) from the many pilgrims who flocked to this out-of-the-way place.

Rodes is now Roses, on the bay to the south. The central part of the church and most of the bell-tower date to the 10th C (archival mention in 974), although there may have been an earlier use of this location. Several expansions widened the structure and added a portico to the entry.

I scrambled up the slope to get this shot. The bushes are woody and tough. Arguably, they make gorse seem wimpy.

The north gate, away from the monastery, is more elaborate. I’m guessing pilgrims and supplies came from that direction.

Here’s a closer view of some of the dwellings south of the church and outside the South Gate.

We backtracked away from the church, then continued north. The snow-caps remained to our left (although they don’t appear that way on this bend).

I find it interesting that aduana (customs) remains on the signs, although the building complex is abandoned.

For now the site of Ruscino is closed. This was an important trading center in Greek times, when a string of them were dotted along the coast of the Gulf of Lion. By 218 BC, Livy described Ruscino as walled and hosting boats in river trade…meaning that their principal trade goods came from inland, upstream via the river we now call Têt. I think valuable goods from the Canigó massif south of the river and inland, where there is still a mining area.

Clever archaeologists have indicated the outlines of walls buried by the road.

This is a wide shot of the excavated area beyond the fence (west). The historic area of France called Roussillon takes its name from this ghost town. Hannibal and his thousands crossed the Pyrenees somewhere around here on their way from Cartagena toward the Alps.

As we continued up the Têt valley, the mountains still attracted our eyes.

Interesting railroad bridge.

Our room has a sweet patio, sweeter if it were sunny and the shipping container weren’t there. No seagulls, and no sunrise view expected.

Posted at 12:13 PM | 2 Comments »

Every day it’s different. I know that’s not a surprise, yet I’m drawn to the sunrise past our balcony each morning.

I’m back on a coffee jag, as the waitrons bring the table a pot of hot coffee and a pot of hot milk, and I can’t resist refilling and refilling.

Sea view off the point of our peninsula.

The cliffs I’m obsessed with watching…wide shot blown-out by the sun.

Obsession rocks, I named them in my head.

We are half-way through our trip, and had/did a totally relaxed day, no driving anywhere, no learning about the past or present, no agenda beyond getting packed to leave for another country tomorrow! We won’t stay but one night—France awaits.

Posted at 12:35 PM | 2 Comments »

Here’s another pair of settlements, the west one on a hill and heavily fortified with tall walls of large stone blocks, and another on an island in a lake. Both were occupied from the 6th–5th Cs BC (so: Iron Age), thriving even when the Greeks settled at Emporion (see yesterday). Indeed, the walled site was a regional capital, with perhaps 6,000 residents, large grain stores and an active trade with the Greeks in luxury goods. Archaeologists know far less about the island settlement, and it is not open to the public, so I know even less. The Romans conquered the territory at about the end of the 3rd C BC, and these settlements were abandoned in the 2nd C BC.

The layout of the capital is interesting, with the lake to the east and south, and a major wall along the other sides. I’ve drawn in the wall, and the bumps along it are large, round towers plus two angular ones. “G” means gate. We entered the South Gate, and outside it is a deep moat. “T” indicates a pair of temples that were built on the summit of the hill. “E” is an elite domestic complex, huge, and it has produced most of the fancy, expensive goods found at the site. The name archaeologists use for this site is Ullastret, which is the nearest town, and no relation the name its residents used.

Ditch outside south gate, view south.

South gate, view east, looking into settlement.

Houses in the southwest part of the site.

Archaeologists call these silos, which makes sense as they are round and were for storing grain. Only the bases, which were excavated into bedrock are visible now. When used, they had conical tops with a small opening at the peak made of a mixture of mortar and ground discarded terra cotta. They were lined with the same mixture, and apparently totally sealed when finished. What surprised me is they were not reused—I hypothesize it’s because they couldn’t be properly sealed again.

The left half of this area is the elite complex. It had its own small gate through the defensive wall. The interpretation is that it was used by a large family unit. I don’t know any of the details of what archaeologists found here, but I keep thinking it may have been an area used by a guild of traders—but were there such groups?

Plopped on the hilltop, obliterating one of the temples, is a church that is now a museum. Today a student group was making house models with glue and blocks and cork roofs.

Here’s the foundation outline of the surviving temple. It seemed pretty good-sized to me.

That almost complete circle of trees is the island. Imagine this view when the lake still spread around it.

View north along the outside of the towers. Formidable.

Not yet high tide on the beach near our hotel—I’m guessing as the rack line is still dry.

Three-second exposure from our balcony a few minutes ago: that’s Orion in the middle…I hope the resolution isn’t so hammered it erases him! [Zooming will help.]

Posted at 1:57 PM | Comments Off on Two more settlements

A wee bit of scientific data: the sun indeed rose again today.

For today’s adventure, we drove north. I saw these fields before, and thought: rice. This is now confirmed. Rice. Good for cazuela cooking, like paella (a specialty of Valencia, way south of here, as I understand it), but there are other regional dishes using the same or similar shallow, flat-bottomed, metal pans.

We have also been seeing these plantations, and I now think most are apples, although some may be pears or similar. The orange orbs are I think insect traps. The black lines on top are folded shade cloths.

Our main stop was huge—the Ciutadella walls etc. were ordered by Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, in 1543. Its on the north shore of the Bay of Roses. However, this fine location on a good harbor was settled by Greeks, and I suspect had earlier inhabitants. The Greeks called their settlement(s) here Rhode. To decode: the red G means Greek structures. The aqua R means Roman. The yellow means Medieval, and MC is the Medieval church. Some of this is later than Medieval and un-labelled. These are the parts that are very visible and/or most interested me.

The encircling wall is massive.

The marked rivers/creeks are approximately how they were in Greek times, and this is the Greek settlement area to the right/east of the “right” creek. The shoreline at the time was inside of what later became the Ciutadella wall. When it was built, seawater lapped the south wall base.

Here’re Roman foundations. There’s no difference to my eye between Greek and Roman here—similar scales.

On the west side of the interior of the Ciutadella, this view is north toward the Medieval Church, a major street that had buildings lining both sides.

This bird’s eye(ish) view is from a tower in the northwestern part of the southwest corner.

Perhaps you can tell from the previous two photos that the church is on a hill. It also had Greek buildings, and archaeology shows they occupied at least three places along the northern arc of the Bay of Roses.

Homework: create your own caption….

Moving on…. That hilltop above the scrub is the ruins of a Visigothic fortification, dating to the 7th and 8th C AD. It’s called Puig Rom and does have good views of the Bay of Roses, not shown in any of these photos. The word puig is Catalan, and it’s tough to pronounce…it’s something like poo-ee-[th], but the [th] has an almost guttural aspect.

Puig Rom has an encircling wall with only one gate/break in the wall (center). Houses have been exposed inside the wall about ¾ of the way around.

On this side, there are also houses outside the wall. The other sides are rather steep, but there are narrow terraces, so they may have house foundations.

And, we returned to our oasis by the sea…always the sea….

Posted at 12:42 PM | 3 Comments »

What a first peek outside our window!

And there’s the sun! [Forty-four minutes later, but who’s counting??!!]

Off on our adventures, aha, there’s the first castle we’ve spotted, waaaay up high.

We enjoyed the last few meters before reaching an Iron Age village, along with munching cattle. [For the amount of dairy and pork we see on the table, we see remarkably few of those critters in the countryside.]

And there’s the settlement…with working archaeologists! Actually, looking at recent maps, that is the highest settlement area; more is “behind” us/me. But what’s exposed is ahead….

This rather large room produced multiple Greek and greek-style artifacts, including large ceramic vessels. This settlement was well-connected with Mediterranean coastal trading ports, undoubtedly Empúries, 12 miles away as the crow flies, so a day’s walk if you were in good shape and the path wasn’t muddy.

This area was built later, and some houses had even larger rooms.

Next stop: Lake Banyoles, the largest lake in Catalunya, and long renowned for its fishing.

Cormorants look like cormorants.

Early 20th C fishing (and bathing) “hut”—there’s more than a dozen spaced along this stretch of the shore.

However, people fished Lake Bangles even in the Neolithic. This hole is a below-the-water-level excavation that has now re-flooded. The water kept organic artifacts from rotting away, preserving wood, basketry, bones, seeds, and textile matter that’s usually totally absent. Archaeologists also found the remains of buildings, including structures on pilings.

Today’s Roman site is a farm called Vilauba. It began as a U-shaped building from the 1st–3rd C AD. Later, more rooms were added through the Visigothic period. This was the location of the press (represented by that interior rectangle of stone), probably for olives (I should have read the signs more closely, but: Catalan).

Speaking of Catalan, this room was a “rebost”, meaning pantry. The raft of pottery containers found here kept various foodstuffs and items (relatively) safe from critters and insects.

Back at our hotel, I took the trail down down down…

…to the beach. It’s pretty much high tide, I think.

Back up at the hotel, I spotted a gull taking a bath in the (closed for the season) pool. I shot a series of photos and discovered it turned its head to the right every time it ducked (is that term okay?) under. Here it’s fluffing its wings and tail.

Posted at 12:37 PM | 2 Comments »

On the table as we sat down to breakfast: salt and olive oil. This is (drip-line irrigated) olive orchard country, and there are plenty of new terraces being built and planted. The development seems to be by multi-national agribusinesses, not small-holders.

It’s 10am, and the sun’s too high for a sunshine slow-down.

The map on the left shows the Ebro River, flowing north-to-south on the far left. The site, called Castellet de Banyoles (Tivissa), is triangular, with the only foot access from the right as there are cliffs elsewhere. The right map is an enlargement of the fortified entrance there (see next photo).

Those two points facing us are the rebuilt bases of two large pentagonal towers that totally controlled access to this ~4.4 ha city.

Here’s one residential compound, two rooms wide and three deep, with the doorway in the front. Often with such a layout, the innermost room was where people kept their valuables, food, etc., so that visitors could be permitted only in the front/reception room, and remain ignorant of the family’s wealth.

Here’s another compound, two very long rooms deep, and two wide.

This very wide open area functioned as a broad street between dwellings left and right. Despite all this construction (I haven’t mentioned the effective sewage system for the whole city), this settlement was built in the 4th C BC, and was wealthy, probably producing Iberian drachmae coins, imitating types from the Greek city of Emporion, far northeast of here on the Mediterranean. Excavations recovered luxury goods of gold and silver (including earrings, bowls, plates and bracelets), pieces of lead bearing Iberian script, and significant traces of metallurgical activity. The Romans burned/destroyed the settlement about 200 BC, probably in connection with indigenous revolts, although there is some evidence of reoccupation. Recent fieldwork has found Roman-period items east of the fortifications, which point to a Roman camp having been established there.

Over the wall to the west, a bend of the Ebro was below, and the arable land that this city controlled, too.

Here’s the southwest lookout tower base, visible in the map.

Our second site today was totally different. It’s on a tiny, narrow landform, and overlooks a small tributary of the Ebro, so it is not in the main valley. The settlement was far earlier than Castellet. It’s called Puig Roig (red hill in Catalan—from the rock substrate, not the sign!), and dates to the the ninth and eighth centuries BC.

These walls are not even 2m apart; these were much smaller rooms.

These are the largest rooms I saw….

Here’s the central street, not quite two meters wide. During occupation, I’m sure it was more level than at present.

Generic mountain drive view, 12:30 pm.

Look what JCB found! Don’t recognize this “Tasty Burger” place? It’s a Mickey’s! [Part of the Playland sign is visible, left.]

We checked into our hotel and made a paseo (walk). Here’s a perimeter entry, now only one-way for vehicles. [And rightly so!]

This town is called Capellades, and is famous for making paper of cotton/linen rags plus hemp, including for cigarettes and currency. Look at the detail on the bottom of the balcony floor! We stopped here because of Abric Romaní, a rockshelter in the Quaternary travertine cliff formation (called Cinglera del Capello) that forms the east edge of the town. Excavations from the multi-meter deep deposits recovered important information on Neanderthal lifeways in the area, with dates to the Late Middle Paleolithic, and the oldest layers dating to ~56,000 yrs ago. Only the top layer (Layer A) dates to the Upper Paleolithic and has Aurignacian artifacts indicating human use. Open hours are scanty, so we’ll look at the cliff setting and move on.

Posted at 12:05 PM | Comments Off on Iron Age towns, more

First light from hotel room. The cloud cover soon dissipated.

We exited town by the back way—our first ford…in, amazingly, a Ford!

Infrastructure slope! From top to bottom…. Various electrical poles. Major regional irrigation water, in pipes, not open channels. Zigzag of roads on slope. Road bridge of at least three arches. Railroad bridge of two arches. Oh, and guardrail to keep us safe.

“I can see Madrid from “my” dead olive tree!” [Hint: tall buildings are visible just to the left of the tree, on the horizon.]

I can also see Madrid over this Medieval well with stabilized walls.

I can see my spouse atop a Medieval bridge!

The shady side of this gorge, where I stood to take the above photo, is so shady, the lichens were this prolific.

On the opposite side, the sunlight means happy mosses, with other types of lichen.

One of my favorite compositions of the day.

We drove up to a famous Late Paleolithic site (and museum) with Acheulean-style tools, with and many animal bone fossils and no hominid remains. We were welcomed first by this beast, two cats on the porch of the museum, and no one to allow us in. Oh, well. [Truth: we did know it would be closed by the time we arrived.]

There’s a day-moon from our last mile, and we’re at our hotel for the night. It’s only a little over an hour before the restaurant opens for dinner service. We worked up an appetite!

Posted at 1:38 PM | Comments Off on Not in Kansas