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So today we had a full day's tour my feet are aching from, of Avila and Segovia.
On the bus from Madrid to Avila, my camera graciously informed me that its batteries were running out. I know I should have been prepared for this, they being cheap Panasonic batteries I had bought in the airport prior to flying to NASSLLI, but alas, neither my brother not I were prepared with backup batteries (from playing with Lego robots through my wayward youth, I had learned that ONLY Duracell or Energizer batteries would do, and not to trust the rest). The guide, in two languages, expounded on the virtues of Avila's famous ancient and extremely well-preserved city walls, and I pondered various plans for preserving my memory of said walls. My Blackberry could take some photos, but ITS battery was on its last legs as well, and emailing the photos out would wreak havoc to my data plan costs. I had noted that the previous tour, in Toledo, had us stop at a souvenir shop or somesuch for restroom use prior to the tour, so I had the equivalent be my Plan A.
And no sooner decided than acted upon. We had a first stop by a hotel outside Avila, and next to it was a BP gas station. My brother and I proceeded into the gas station, and at the back were Sony batteries, with a pack of 4 AAs for 2,95 euro.
"We might as well help BP out at this difficult time for them," my brother drawled as we left with the batteries in my pocket, and I, feeling like I was reloading the bullets from a revolver, changed the batteries in the camera. Thank the gods that I had decided on a camera that runs AAs rather than lithium ion; I had been burned with this in Vancouver.
The walls of Avila really are spectacular.
We went to St. Vincent's cathedral, the oldest church in Spain showing elements of Gothic architecture (and later we would visit the cathedral of Segovia, which is the last church in Spain to do so). My art history came as part of a couple of years of small-group art lessons with an architect/artist in Ottawa, (which lessons I had quit after I reached my teens and the teacher's behaviour started tripping a few of my alarm bells) but perhaps the only thing I still remember was the transition between Romanesque and Gothic architecture. The guide kept pronouncing Romanesque as Romanex when he spoke English, but other than that, he was quite knowledgeable about the works.
After St. Vincent's church, the rest of our tour of Avila was heavily coloured with the biography of perhaps its most famous resident (well, Queen Isabella of Castile was born there too), St. Teresa of Avila. I regret to admit that the first time I had heard of St. Teresa was when the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab dedicated a Salon scent to the sculpture of her, but I have learned a fair amount to not seem ignorant since, and St. Teresa is a fascinating woman. There was one quotation by her in the souvenir shop, which I recall as "I believe, unless I had a new book, I was never happy." That struck a chord with me.
I took a whole pile of pictures from Avila, and then we got on the bus to Segovia. On the bus I had a rather serious conversation with my brother, but it ended well.
Segovia will be told of in the next entry.
On the bus from Madrid to Avila, my camera graciously informed me that its batteries were running out. I know I should have been prepared for this, they being cheap Panasonic batteries I had bought in the airport prior to flying to NASSLLI, but alas, neither my brother not I were prepared with backup batteries (from playing with Lego robots through my wayward youth, I had learned that ONLY Duracell or Energizer batteries would do, and not to trust the rest). The guide, in two languages, expounded on the virtues of Avila's famous ancient and extremely well-preserved city walls, and I pondered various plans for preserving my memory of said walls. My Blackberry could take some photos, but ITS battery was on its last legs as well, and emailing the photos out would wreak havoc to my data plan costs. I had noted that the previous tour, in Toledo, had us stop at a souvenir shop or somesuch for restroom use prior to the tour, so I had the equivalent be my Plan A.
And no sooner decided than acted upon. We had a first stop by a hotel outside Avila, and next to it was a BP gas station. My brother and I proceeded into the gas station, and at the back were Sony batteries, with a pack of 4 AAs for 2,95 euro.
"We might as well help BP out at this difficult time for them," my brother drawled as we left with the batteries in my pocket, and I, feeling like I was reloading the bullets from a revolver, changed the batteries in the camera. Thank the gods that I had decided on a camera that runs AAs rather than lithium ion; I had been burned with this in Vancouver.
The walls of Avila really are spectacular.
We went to St. Vincent's cathedral, the oldest church in Spain showing elements of Gothic architecture (and later we would visit the cathedral of Segovia, which is the last church in Spain to do so). My art history came as part of a couple of years of small-group art lessons with an architect/artist in Ottawa, (which lessons I had quit after I reached my teens and the teacher's behaviour started tripping a few of my alarm bells) but perhaps the only thing I still remember was the transition between Romanesque and Gothic architecture. The guide kept pronouncing Romanesque as Romanex when he spoke English, but other than that, he was quite knowledgeable about the works.
After St. Vincent's church, the rest of our tour of Avila was heavily coloured with the biography of perhaps its most famous resident (well, Queen Isabella of Castile was born there too), St. Teresa of Avila. I regret to admit that the first time I had heard of St. Teresa was when the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab dedicated a Salon scent to the sculpture of her, but I have learned a fair amount to not seem ignorant since, and St. Teresa is a fascinating woman. There was one quotation by her in the souvenir shop, which I recall as "I believe, unless I had a new book, I was never happy." That struck a chord with me.
I took a whole pile of pictures from Avila, and then we got on the bus to Segovia. On the bus I had a rather serious conversation with my brother, but it ended well.
Segovia will be told of in the next entry.
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