It has been a busy old time this last week and two days. Last weekend started with a Friday night cheese-and-wine fest with folks from work, and ended with not remembering getting home sometime around 4am.
One for Dr John – Doctor Bar, with syringe lampshades and anatomical drawings on the walls. I don’t remember taking this photo, which is quite illustrative of the latter end of that night really.
This then posed some challenges for Saturday morning, when I was headed to Córdoba with my flatmate and a few other chicas. We weren´t getting the the train until lunch time, but nevertheless ended up in a mad rush, having to change buses and flee through the train station. That´s surely the only way to go anywhere though, right?
I was excited to get out of the city for the first time since arriving, see some landscape, some hills, some Andalucían streets the same but different. There was a medieval market on that weekend, which we hadn’t quite known what to expect of but it turned out to be a big affair.
Meat was the over-arching theme.
Giant and unseemly-shaped vegetables, a close second.
Face-painted men in leather playing bagpipes and drums. Medieval times were well exciting!
Horns and red trousers a-plenty!
The above photo exhibits two delights of the day – one being the horn clutched on the right there – mulled wine from a horn, the hangover cure to beat all. The horns were all the rage within the market arena, but were met with judging glares when we bared them in the outside world…
In the background there you can also see a red-trousered man. My attention was first brought to red trousers by this website. Sevilla (and Córdoba, it seems) is awash with red-trouser wearers and they have become my obsession. Red trousers are a particularly popular weekend choice among the andaluz male. Córdoba also offered a new delight of bright blue trousers, which almost equalled the red in number.
Street art (literally) in the style of the street name letters. ‘At last I have found you’.
There’s not a whole lot going on in Córdoba , but you can find the biggest tortillas en el MUNDO. They’re the size of, goodness, I don’t know, a whole baby? If you flattened it out…
Córdoba’s small (or at least feels small, despite being a city of 300,000 people), a one-horse town when it comes to nightlife, but we squeezed all we could out of our one night away and after a visit to a ‘fairy’ bar, a variety of dubiously-coloured shots, and dancing (and singing – !!) along to Elvis, Bon Jovi and some questionable Spanish rock, we clung on until a respectable 7am.
Unfortunately for Sunday, this meant an accumulative hangover and some very bad bus/food choices.
I survived on into the next week though, and if the medieval market had been the close of winter, spring had most definitely arrived by mid week. On my lunch break I was able to bask in the sun and breathe in the aroma of the cypresses released by the heat. Winter is DEAD! Roll on the summertime…