24th May 2026: Semmering and back {Vienna & day trips, May 2026}

When planning the weekend in Vienna, D****e and I had a discussion. She wanted to be “free” on Sunday in case Hyde did something unexpected, but I didn’t want to spend the day waiting around without anything to do. In the end, we reached an agreement to… go somewhere and back before the singer would even get out of bed. And that is how we found ourselves on the 6:24 train to Semmering, within the Austrian Alps.

Technically, Semmering is a dignified ski resort, remanent of the time in the 19th century when the sport was all the rage amongst the upper classes, who would take the train to get there. The Semmering Railway Semmeringbahn runs 41 kilometres through the Alps. Built between 1848 and 1854, it is considered one of the greatest feats in early railway engineering, with bridges, viaducts, tunnels, charming mountain stations, reaching over 895 metres above sea level. It was declared World Heritage by UNESCO in 1998 with the name Semmering Railway.

Thus, a big thing about Semmering is the journey itself, not only the destination. Especially because in late spring the mountain village is in the middle of low season and most everything is closed. The idea was to find a window seat on the train to enjoy the trip until we got to the area. Once there, we would wander around for a couple of hours, take in a few views, maybe have breakfast at a fancy café, and finally head back.

The train ride was spectacular once we reached the Alps. This Central Europe mountain range stretches between France and Slovakia (around 10,000 km), and is in part responsible for the continent’s climate. The Alps were formed during the aptly-named Alpine Orogeny that started in the Late Mesozoic, when Africa began pressing against the Eurasian tectonic plate in the north – of course, this took tens of millions of years. Aside from over 80 peaks higher than 4,000 m, there are lakes, glaciers (some of which used to be permanent and not any more) and several of Europe’s most important rivers, along with their tributaries. There is evidence of human presence in the mountain range since the Palaeolithic period, along with prehistoric treading of both man-made and natural ways and paths – passes – to cross them on foot. Semmering is one of them.

The train route was extremely beautiful, both due to the landscape itself and the fourteen engineered tunnels along the tracks. We reached Semmering a bit after 7:30. As no cute café was open, we just went on a short hike. We strolled down the Semmering-Kurort neighbourhood, walked by a modern art garden called Skulpturenpark and finally reached the tree line. Our first stop was the so-called 20-schilling view 20-Schilling-Blick, which overlooks the historic train line (part of it, as the viaduct is currently under construction). The he area was featured in the 20-schilling note, before the euro, hence the name. You can actually take the exact same picture that was printed on the bills using a conveniently-placed box – except for some works going on that has one of the bridges covered in scaffolding.

Tunnel and stone bridge on the Semmering train line, taken from inside the train

The Alps, with train lines running across

On our walks we found other spots and views, including the observation deck Aussichtsturm auf der Doppelreiterwarte. We walked by the Kurhaus Semmering Hotel, a grand hotel dating back from 1909, which now is closed for renovation so it can be restored to its former glory. We got a bit lost on the way back, because the way we wanted to take was closed down, but made it back to the station with ten minutes to spare. Once back in Vienna, D****e and I had different plans for a few hours.

Mountain landscape sprinkled with buildings

The train ride back was all right, but upon entering Vienna, we got stranded due to a “firefighting emergency”. We had to find alternative our alternative way to the city centre. It is a good thing that I am paranoid enough that I had chosen my next visit with almost an hour and a half’s margin, so I got there with ample time. I had booked at 13:00 to take a tour of the Spanish Riding School Spanische Hofreitschule. The shop was packed with people so it was hard to see anything, but the tours themselves were rather empty.

The Spanish Riding School takes its name from the main horse bloodline that was used to create the breed it showcases, the Lipizzaner. Breeding traditions of these animals are considered Intangible Cultural Heritage by UNESCO. Contrary to what is usually thought, the horses are not white, but grey. Their skin is grey, and they are born with a dark coat which turns white in age. The school is one of the “Big Four” riding academies, along the Royal Andalusian School. It focuses on “classical dressage”, and its roots are in military horsemanship, which shows in their performances. The building itself, in the Baroque style, was erected in the 1730s, commissioned to Joseph Emanuel Fischer von Erlach by Emperor Charles VI.

Within the School, we got to visit the summer arena – which has individual “stalls” for each horse to exercise in – the winter arena, the courtyard and the stables. We got to hear how the horses are born and raised in Piber, and that the actual reason why only stallions are used in the work is because the pirouettes, cabriolets and jumps imitate how they behave in the wild. The guide actually said that mares would not understand or care about learning the steps. We also learnt that each horse has two names – the first one is the name of the father and the second is the name of the mother. Pictures were not allowed in the stables, and I am not sure why – maybe so there is no proof where each horse is so nobody can lure them using their names? For the record, 13:00 is not a good time to take a tour, because the horses have just been fed, and you get to see lots of horse butts, but not enough faces.

Spanish riding school: inside arena with large chandeliers hanging above

White horse looking at the camera

My next tour was at 14:30 at the Vienna State Opera Wiener Staatsoper. That was chaotic. We had to queue outside to be let in and be directed to either buy tickets or get ours checked out. Once inside the hall, there were mobs of people waiting for different language tours. As a matter of fact, an Australian gentleman decided he had to push to the front of the English-speaking group, and was sent back to the end of the line. Once the tour started, the whole thing was surreal. I learnt next to nothing about the place, as the only thing that our guide did was complain about people with money, either from the past or the present. One thing I did realise is that the actual music hall is extremely small – no wonder it fills out so quickly.

The main hall seats around 1,700 people per show. The Renaissance Revival building was erected in the 1860, and there were two architects involved in its construction: August Sicard von Sicardsburg, Eduard van der Nüll, along with contractor Josef Hlávka. At the time, it was considered “not grand enough”. The interior and stage were destroyed during WWII, in a modernised version of the original. Nowadays, it is home to the opera and ballet companies of the city.

Interior of an opera theatre

Once done, I walked by the Starbucks to grab a cold drink – cookies-and-cream frappuchino was not the best option – and headed to Stadtpark to meet with D****e again. I stopped by Johann Strauss monument Johann-Strauss-Denkmal, which depicts a golden sculpture of the musician playing his violin.

Statue of Strauss playing violin

We did not do much for the rest of the afternoon until we headed off for dinner. On our way, we came across something called the Ankeruhr or Anchor Clock, a mechanical clock built in 1914, commissioned by an insurance company. We did not see it in action, but it looked cool.

Dinner had been booked at the rooftop terrace Organics Sky Garden, and I have to say it was one of the worst dinner experiences of my life, and I’m not too much of a demanding customer. When we arrived, the responsible / managing person apologised because there had been an event and they were a bit overwhelmed. Fine, stuff happens. We get shown to our table and to our surprise, food and drink have different order / payment systems. All right, weird. What sold it, though, was not the bland food or the tasteless drinks – our waiter was drunk. Absolutely wasted. It took her four times to get the card-reader working, and in the end she had to call someone else to charge us.

The drink price was ridiculous for something that was mostly tasteless. My Organics Purple Berry drink was not even pale pink. The waiter managed to spill D****e’s Organics Simply Cola and she did not even offer a replacement, but laughed stupidly. The one food I found appealing was the Margherita pizza and that was not even that good. The only good thing about the place were the views of Domkirche St. Stephan (St. Stephen’s Cathedral).

Tiled roof of a gothic cathedral above the normal rooftops

After that experience, we headed off to Prater. The area, originally a hunting ground, was cleared out to set up the 1873 World Exhibition. Today, it is an urban green and an amusement park. Though some of the rides are obviously very modern, some of them were established in 1897, including the Ferris wheel and symbol of the park Wiener Riesenrad. D****e wanted to find the spots where Hyde had taken photographs, and I wanted to see the nostalgia carousel Familie Karussell, because I like merry-go-rounds, the older and more kitsch, the better, I guess. It was palate-cleansing.

Prater amusement park: Ferris wheel, dragon peering over a building, carrousel

Traditional carrousel in white

And when we eventually made it back to the hotel, I was tired enough that I actually slept through the night.

23rd May 2026: Cross-border day trip {Vienna & day trips, May 2026}

It was ridiculously early in the day, but D****e and I were ready to go. Our first self-appointed destination in Vienna that morning was the historical Café Sacher for breakfast. The café is located within the no-less-historical Hotel Sacher. The hotel’s origins can be traced back to an actual confectioner, hence the eventual rise to fame of the Sacher-torte – a chocolate cake with a thin layer of apricot jam in the middle and coated in dark chocolate icing, served with a side of unsweetened whipped cream.

The Hotel Sacher was founded in 1876, and under the management of Anna Sacher, it became the most exclusive hotel in the world. Originally, it catered exclusively to the aristocracy. In the 1930s, it changed hands and was completely renovated, but then WWII hit. It would not be until the late 1980s that the hotel recovered its status as a luxury destination. Between 2005 and 2012, the hotel was refurbished and modernised, with only 10 weeks of downtime throughout the period. Since then, smaller works have been carried out, and the brand has expanded to other cities in Austria. Currently, the Vienna establishment currently has 152 rooms and suites, with the lowest category I found being a “junior suite”, and prices that range from 500 to 10,000 € a night.

Throughout its history, the hotel has battled other confectionery creators to hold the rights to its original Sacher-torte. It is offered in the hotel cafés, shops, and can even be ordered online. It is given out as complimentary little cubes (Sacher Würfel) with some of the other dishes, too.

Though the Café Sacher queues can be insane, there was none at 7:55 when we walked in for breakfast. We had a packed day ahead of us, including a crossing a border, hence the early start!

I required coffee, of course, and I had been torn between two specialities. In the end, I chose the Einspänner (Double espresso topped with whipped cream, served in a served in a tall glass with a handle), because it had more coffee in it. I wanted something substantial and savoury, and though I considered the eggs, something else caught my eye – Sourdough bread with whipped butter and chives (Sauerteigbrot, Aufgeschlagene Butter und Schnittlauch). I also ordered the Sacher-torte. After a while, our waiter came to check on us and I… had finished my Einspänner… so I ordered myself a Sacher Melange too (Single espresso with steamed milk and whipped cream). Caffeine was not loading…

Sacher-torte and coffee

Breakfast was amazing and customer service exquisite. D****e had been there the day before and they remembered her! The maître gifted us a Sacher pen each, and I was ecstatic – laugh, but somehow I ended up with a… minishrine of Sacher mementos from this trip… It’s almost embarrassing.

We still had some time before our train, so instead of heading directly to the station, we popped into the Swarovski flagship shop for a bit. Aside from the toilets, there was a connection with Hyde, too. He had his hat for the [Inside] tour made by them, along with the microphone stand he was going to use on the Konzerthaus concert. Furthermore, he had “designed” a piece of clothing to wear for some promotional activities that featured some 2,000 crystals. It was, to commemorate the event, exhibited in the shop. There were also necklaces described as part of the collaborations, priced at around 600 €. And, unrelated, they also had little boxes full of crystals of hundreds of colours. I decided to get one of those – don’t judge me, I could afford them (I think they were rainbow coloured because Pride was coming?).

Long jacket with crystals sporting Hyde's logo: the four letters of his name superimposed

We walked towards Vienna Central Station Wien Hauptbahnhof to board a train to Bratislava, the capital of the neighbouring country of Slovakia [Slovenská republika]. Slovakia and the Czech Republic used to be one country before the Velvet Divorce (1992), one of the few bloodless disintegrations of the old Europe towards the end of the 20th century. When the two countries split up, Bratislava took over as capital of Slovakia, while Prague, the capital of the dissolving unit, remained as such for the Czech Republic. Hence, Bratislava gives off a bit of a “new” vibe, despite having existed for over a thousand years. The train ride from Vienna barely takes an hour (50 km distance), and you really don’t get to see / feel / realise when you cross the border between countries, which feels weirdly amazing and sad at the same time. The only notice you get is that you must bring printed tickets if you buy them on the internet, digital ones are not accepted – but there is no gate control to access the trains at Vienna Central. You have to love the presumption of honesty there.

We reached Bratislava Petržalka (the central station, though it is on the outskirts of town). If Prague was scarred by WWII, it seems that Bratislava was most damaged by its time as part of the Eastern Bloc, when the Communist Party reached power in 1948. During the years of Communism, a great deal of the historical centre, including the Jewish quarter, was demolished in order to modernise the city – and actually to build one bridge, which we crossed on our walk from the station to the downtown area. This is the Most Slovenského národného povstania (Bridge of the Slovak National Uprising), most commonly known as the UFO bridge, because of the flying-saucer-shaped restaurant and observation deck it features. Over 400 metres long, it was quite a walk in order to cross over the Danube.

Modern bridge with a flying saucer shaped tower

Once on the correct bank of the river, we undertook the climb to the Castle Bratislavský hrad, which we could visit for half price because they were celebrating Museum Day. The castle may have been built around 4,500 years ago, but the oldest remaining areas date back from the 9th century. Most of what can be seen today is Baroque, erected in the 18th century under the reign of Maria Theresa (Holy Roman Empress between 1745 and 1765 and Queen of Bohemia between 1740 and 1780, except for 1742 and 1743), and restored in the 20th century. Today, the castle is the site of the SNM Museum of History Historické múzeum.

We visited the palace, which gave us access to the courtyard, the building itself – wide staircases decorated with golden stucco – the treasury, and several historical exhibitions, including the religious art that used to be found in the Medieval chapel. We climbed up to the Queen’s Tower – a bit of a mistake on my part, the stairs down made me dizzy and queasy – and the Romanesque foundations, including a deep well. On our way out we stopped by the Baroque Garden.

Bratislava castle

As we headed towards the city centre, we stopped by St Martin’s Cathedral Katedrála svätého Martina. The interior and the exterior clashed in my mind. The outer area was white with a terracota-coloured tiled roof, and a metallic spire atop the tower. The interior is lined with gothic arches built in stone, dating from 1311. The ceiling is decorated with golden details, and the windows behind the altar let beautiful light in. When we left the cathedral, through a different entrance, I saw that the other side of the church features stonework indeed. So it seems that the angle matters a lot!

Gothic cathedral with starry vaults

A few minutes later we were in Ventúrska, the main street of the historical centre, to have lunch. We ended up getting an outside table at a small place called Loclub Food & Drink. We shared a bruschetta with avocado (two pieces of bread, tomatoes, olive oil, red onion, garlic, basil pesto, avocado) and Bryndzové pirohy, sheep cheese pierogi (potato dumplings with cheese, sour cream, and fried bacon). I did not feel like food, but I think I was less light-headed after it, and my stomach had settled.

We continued on the street and we got to Michalská brána (Michael’s Gate), which during Medieval times was one of the city gates. The building that stands today is a Baroque reconstruction. We did not go in, but turned at the corner and undid a bit of our way until we got to Main Square Hlavné námestie, which holds palaces, the town hall, statues, a fountain and lots of overheated tourists searching for a drink or an ice cream. We were on our search for Farský kostol sv. Alžbety, Church of Saint Elizabeth, better known as the Blue Church. Its main feature is… being baby blue. It’s built in a style I had never heard about, Hungarian Secession, designed by Edmin Lechner in the early 20th century. It was indeed… very blue. It reminded me of kids’ toys.

Church painted in light blue

We slowly made our way back towards the station, through the iron bridge Starý most and the park Sad Janka Král’a along the Danube, which led to some amazing views of the Castle Bratislavský hrad.

Danube river, and the castle and cathedral of Bratislava in the background

We took the train back to Austria and left Slovakia behind. That evening we had a reservation for dinner at the beer garden Glacis Beisl in Vienna. The place was packed and loud, but the food was good. The one upside of the heatwave is that dining outside felt really nice. I decided to treat myself to my own Schnitzel – Original Wiener Schnitzel from Austrian milk-fed veal with potato and coleslaw salad and cranberries (Original Wiener Schnitzel vom österreichischen Milchkalb mit Erdäpfel-Vogerl-Salat und Preiselbeeren) and an apple juice drink, which came in a pint glass – awesome.

Breaded meat and potato salad

You’d think we would be turning in afterwards, right? Wrong. D****e had also arranged to meet another friend for a drink afterwards, so we headed out towards Selleny’s Bar, adjacent to the Hilton. I had a very lemony (and overpriced) lemonade there. Finally, we headed back to the hotel for a shower and bed, but once more I did not sleep much.

22nd May 2026: Airports and libraries {Vienna & day trips, May 2026}

Of course, when the drive to the airport is smooth and you avoid the worst of the daily traffic jam, something else happens. This time around, it was a security-check screw-up. The lady had decided that every item needed a different tray – it was unthinkable that a backpack and a fanny pack could coexist in the same space. Unfortunately, the tray system had broken down and was not moving. Travellers got stuck explaining “there are no trays” while she yelled “one item per tray” in a never-ending cycle that took at least five minutes to break.

My plane left at 8:40 and I landed in Viena a few minutes ahead of schedule, around 11:30. That gave me enough time to reach the train station and take the 12:19 S7 train to Rennweg, which was the very convenient station next to the hotel (I had booked something near a transport hub; the fact that it had a direct connection to the airport was direct was a plus we discovered later). I got myself a snack, and walked to the hotel to check in and meet D****e, who had arrived a few hours earlier. After she had freshened up, we headed towards the Austrian National Library Österreichische Nationalbibliothek while she told me that she had come on the same flight as Hyde, and gave me updates on all her Japanese friends’ status as they converged onto Austria.

As we walked, we entered the Unesco Heritage Site Historic Centre of Vienna, recognised in 2001 and placed in the List of World Heritage in Danger in 2017, due to urbanistic pressure. One of the main elements in the Viennese architecture is the Hofburg, the main imperial palace of the Habsburgs in Austria. At the end of WWI in 1918, the Austria-Hungary Empire came to an end, and since then the palace has been repurposed – different parts of it may be visited, such as Sisi’s quarters, the Riding School, or the library itself (and all its branches).

The seed of Austrian National Library Österreichische Nationalbibliothek dates back to Emperor Karl VI (Charles VI), who established the court library around 1739. The building was erected in the Baroque style, designed by Johann Fischer von Erlach. Its main feature is the State Hall Prunksall, which houses the book collection amassed by the Habsburgs, particularly some 15,000 books belonging to Prince Eugene of Savoy. The library hosts around 200,000 volumes in dark walnut cases that reach the ceilings, decorated with frescoes. The floors are marble, and here and there stand world globes and sculptures by Lorenzo Mattielli. Oh, and there are secret doors within the shelves that lead to hidden rooms. We only visited the State Hall that day, but I would come back to the Papyrus Museum on Monday.

Classical library

A couple of days prior to our arrival, Hyde had tweeted (or whatever) that there were posters of his show throughout Vienna. One of them was easy to find – it had the Neogothic Votive Church Votivkirche in the background. D****e wanted to find them all, and I wanted to see the church, which was unfortunately closed. Also unfortunately, it seemed that all the weather forecasts for the few days I’d be in town had been… wrong. Despite announcing mild spring temperatures, we got hit by a heatwave. I am okay with heat but… I did not have appropriate clothes for it so… whoops. Despite the weather, we walked a lot, and did a lot of checking for the posters as we did. We may have spotted around 20 or so (and only after the concert checked if we could unglue one).

I was getting a bit dizzy, so I suggested stopping for a snack. We sat at a McDonald’s Hyde ordered food from once, so it fit our theme. D****e had a map of locations that were more or less related to Hyde’s activities in town. Following that, we stumbled around the church Kirche Maria am Gestade. In front of it stood a figure of Minerva, holding a little owl in one hand, a crown in the other. I thought it was a street art installation, and I wondered about the placement, but it turns out to be something for the… European Congress of Radiology, which took place in March, and had a Classical gods and goddesses theme, maybe because there was a very important person there called Minerva Becker.

Kirche Maria am Gestade (Mary at the Riverbank) is a catholic church built in the Gothic style between 1394 and 1414. It is one of the few actual Gothic buildings in town, and was popular amongst sailors on the Danube – it stands on the former fluvial terrace of one of the now disappeared flows of the river. It is not a big church, with a narrow nave and a 56-metre tower slightly newer than the body of the church. It was a very pretty structure that I enjoyed a lot.

Gothic church on top of some stairs

We walked a little towards the town centre and ended up at Kohlmarkt, from where I got a view of Michaelerplatz and the Hofburg palace. We turned towards Graben to find the Column of Pest Wiener Pestsäule, a High Baroque column built to commemorate the victims of the plague epidemic of 1679. It was designed by Paul Strudel, but many other sculptors had a hand in it, apparently. Erected in white stone and gold, it represents from the highest level down, the Holy Trinity, the angels, King Leopold I, and his citizens.

Baroque commemorative column in marble and gold

Next, we visited the Baroque church Peterskirche (St. Peter’s church), built in the first third of the 18th century to replace and earlier Romanesque one. After two failed designs, the main architect was Francesco Martinelli, who drew inspiration from St Peter’s in the Vatican. Hence, it was the first domed building in Vienna. It is however very… small, erected in a very confined space in a crossroads, it feels cramped.

Baroque church

Eventually, we made our way towards Café Landtmann, which calls itself “Vienna’s most sophisticated coffee house” to have dinner with some of D****e’s friends who had also come from Japan. Though it is one of the iconic places in town (and also held a connection to Hyde, hence why they wanted to go), dinner was a mess. Five of us were crammed into a tiny booth, the eatery was bustling and there was barely any space. And jet-lagged excited Japanese is no way near understandable by my poor language skills. They decided they wanted to share everything, which I thought was a mistake – very little space, large plates difficult to share… But I’m not going to raise a ruckus out of food of all things. I’m just going to order an alcohol-free cocktail (actually a raspberry-lemon lemonade) that matches in price all the beer and alcohol they are going to order.

We shared „The Legend“ („Die Legende“: Viennese Schnitzel made from the finest cut of breaded veal, parsley potatoes, leaf salad, cranberry jam and a lemon wedge); Viennese Beef Goulash (Wiener Rindsgulasch, with bread dumpling, goulash crunch and pickled cucumber); White Asparagus (Spargel with beurre blanc, chives and buttered panko crumbs); Landtmann Sausages “à la bonne heure” (Landtmannwürstel à la bonne heure, boiled sausages in goulash jus with mustard mayo, horseradish, goulash crunch and a hand roll).

Different Austrian dishes

I ended up mostly eating the bread with the Schnitzel lemon and the salad. I had not realised the goulash would have so much garlic on it. Finally, they ordered coffee and Kaissermarn (shredded pancakes) as dessert. In the end, it was 40 bucks per person for a cramped mediocre experience. The staff was nice and people-watching interesting, from people super dolled-up because they were coming from / going to the opera, to ripped jeans.

We left and walked back to the hotel. After a long shower, we went to bed, but I did not sleep much and was definitely up at sunrise. That helped with the following day’s insane plans, which included breakfast…

3rd April 2026: Roman mines & archaeology, or how my road trip got hijacked (Spain)

While we were on the train to have Father’s Day brunch, I was asked what my plans for Easter break were – either a couple of day trips or meet my sibling. I explained about the gypsum mines in the Cuenca area, and one of my parents was immediately interested, to the point that they ended up hijacking the whole thing. They, however, drove, so I am not going to complain, just be low-key amused at how it all went down.

Gypsum (Calcium sulfate dihydrate, CaSO4·2H2O) is a very common mineral, a type of evaporite that forms when solvents precipitate as water evaporates from from seas, lakes or hot springs. It can be a white powder (actually very small crystals), rocky white veins, or selenite crystals. Selenite is a transparent crystallised variety of gypsum, and it can be tinted with the presence of impurities. In Roman times, a variety of selenite, referred to lapis specularis (stone mirror) was used to create windows throughout the Empire.

A lot of that lapis specularis was mined in Spain, and distributed from the Ancient Roman settlement of Segóbriga (which I wanted to visit on my way back from Almadén, but they were on weather alert and I decided to skip it in the end). The mines extended up to 100,000 steps (150 km) around the city, and a couple of vistable ones were about an hour’s drive away. My curiosity was piked. When I was a kid, in Tendilla, I used to dig up a lot of small gypsum crystal, and I guess I wanted to see if there was much difference between what I had and what Cuenca offered. I have to own up that Cuenca’s crystals are larger (by far) and more transparent.

The two mines I wanted to explore are located in the village of Huete (technically, in Saceda del Río, but it is the Huete Tourist Office that exploits them since Saceda is barely a neighbourhood). They can only be accessed by car and my plan was to get there, see the mines and then drive back stopping at several archaeological sites. My parent took over planning and was able to get a visit for 11:00 on Good Friday, which is a holiday in most (if not all) of Spain, therefore traffic would be limited. We actually did not meet many cars until we reached the meeting point by the road, around 10:30. I hiked up the hill to see what was ahead, and there was a parking spot right at entrance of the mines, so we drove up there. The guide was late, but someone from the Tourist Office came to collect the money (5 € per person) and “open up” the mines, which are locked away using grilled bars. Not sure whether to protect them or to be able to charge entry (probably… both).

When the guide finally arrived, we were shown (rushed) in. The visit to both mines / caves was only about 30 minutes, and we could barely snoop around, just at the entrance of both.

The first mine is called Cave of Knives, Cueva de los Cuchillos. This is due to the way the lapis specularis crystallises, in small(ish) crystals that protrude outwards from the ceiling. The second is Cueva del Sanabrio. Apparently, the sanabrio was a monster made up by adults to prevent kids from entering the mines and getting lost. Not that we had any chance to do so, considering how little we were allowed to explore. The crystals in this cave were larger, and could have been mined off in one sizeable slab. I did not pick any minerals inside, but there were a few easy to grab in the parking lot so I hauled a couple of tiny samples.

Gypsun crystal mine


 
Gypsun crystal mine (and a sleeping little bat)

The guide “invited” us to go to the nearby village of Huete for the guided visit at 12:30. My parent loves guided visits, so they decided that we should drop by. When we got to the tourist office in town, we learnt that the village has four museum (2 € entry for each), and that the guided visit was 7 €. We paid for the visit but adding up the museums and the mines, the whole thing would have been 20 € per person – daylight robbery, I thought. The visit started at 12:50 as the guide still had to come from the mines with a second batch of visitors.

We used the idle time to book a spot for lunch at the local grill, which happened to be near the old town walls. There is not much left of the fortification except one of the gates Puerta de Almazán and the clock tower Torre del Reloj. The meeting point for the visit was the Tourist Office, located in the monastery Monasterio de Santa María de la Merced, which now belongs to the town hall and has been used as museum and local offices.

It’s not a secret that I’m not a fan of guided visits, but this was probably the worst one I’ve attended in a while, not even considering the tardiness. Besides the guide’s high tone of voice, the bad sound amplifier, and the reverberation in the church… the whole thing was bad. Really bad. Our first visit was indeed the church, where the guide spent 30 minutes telling us about how Huete was great, its history, and the lives of kings and saints vaguely if at all related to the village. What she did not say? For example, the name of the church. I later learnt that it was the Baroque temple Iglesia San Esteban Protomartir, designed by José de Arroy. When the guide was about to let us leave the church, a religious procession came back from parading the streets, so we waited for them to pass out of respect.

Neoclassical church with a golden altar

After that, we trotted towards the former convent Antiguo Convento de Jesús y María de Huete, where the photography museum Fundación Antonio Pérez. The foundation of the convent happened in the mid 16th century, but the building has been renovated again and again. Here, we saw the Renaissance façade, and the Baroque cloister.

Neoclassical cloister

We then were ushered towards the city wall, the gate Puerta de Almazán and the clock tower Torre del Reloj, where we learnt that the only function of the latter was telling the time – hence… the clock? (what she meant is that it was not a defensive tower). Afterwards, we went walked past the “royal barn” Pósito Real and reached the second gate of the Medieval walls, Puerta de la Medina. At this point, my parents and I gave up and left for lunch, sunk cost be damned.

Lunch was… forgettable and slow. At least we were next to the air-con and that was set on heat, so I was warm and content. After eating, we took a small detour on the next street and saw the outside of the church Iglesia de Santo Domingo and the rural hotel Palacio de los Condes de Garcinarro.

We got back to the car and headed back. We missed a Roman mausoleum which is marked on the Sat-Nav, but there was no way to park so it must not have been that important. What we did find was the so-called “Prehistoric Valley” Valle Prehistórico de Altomira. The only thing we saw at first were a bunch of caves, but apparently they are home of scattered Palaeolithic, Neolithic and Chalcolithic remains, mainly pottery and stone tools.

Prehistoric caves and a village in the background

We drove a bit further (closer?) and stopped at the archaeological site Yacimiento Arqueológico de la Cava, in Garcinarro. The area was first occupied around 4,000 years ago in the Bronze Age, strategically situated on top of a mountain. The problem, of course, is that you have to actually climb the mountain to get to the site. A wall lizard thought we were crazy to be out and about at that time in the afternoon.

The oldest structure is a horizontal layer of rock with small circular petroglyphs, called cazoletas (cups) – there are around 8,000 of them, and nobody currently knows their function. From the Celtiberian period in the Iron Age, there is a three-room building. It faces south (probably for warmth), and it was carved out of rock, and protected by a sort of moat. Facing north there are newer remains from the Bronze Age, where a bunch of artefacts have been recovered. These are kept in the museum, but we did not get there. The settlement was eventually abandoned – probably destroyed by an earthquake.

Pre-roman archaeological ruins, including round holes dug up on the ground rock

All in all… I don’t know. The caves were cool, the Huete visit was really bad, and the archaeological site was okay – and free. The prehistoric valley needs more research and exploration though, but it was not something I could do with my parents. Some other day when I’m in the vicinity, because I still need to get to Segóbriga…

31st January 2026: Mistakes were made around the Tercios (Madrid, Spain)

A local cultural association organised a day trip to Madrid on the 31st of January to witness the historical re-enactment Día de Los Tercios (Tercios Day). Tercios (thirds) were the Spanish Empire’s infantry force, usually considered to be the origin of modern European armies. They were formed by volunteers-turned-professional soldiers, the elite of the Spanish military.

Despite their 1534 establishment as an actual unit, the strategies and structure of the Tercios can be traced to the 1480s, when the Christians were trying to conquer Grenada from the Arabs. They were known for effectively mixing bladed weapons, usually pikes, and firearms (primitive rifles known as arquebuses). They had a very characteristic hierarchy system in which old soldiers trained newcomers. They had rankings amongst themselves, medical staff, chaplains, even their own justice system. Their most recognisable symbol was the Cross of Burgundy on different backgrounds.

Tercios battled all across Europe with the expansion of the Habsburg house. They fought in Italy, and most famously in the Belgian region of Flanders – there are several monuments in Antwerp hailing the locals who opposed them. Velázquez painted the most famous work of art around the Tercios, La Rendición de Breda – the “Surrender of Breda”, an Italian city conquered in 1625. As world and war changed, their battlefield tactics became obsolete in the 18th century, and they eventually dissolved away, transformed into regiments, as the figure of the pikeman was dropped.

The name Tercios survives in naming the Spanish Navy and Legion units. The historical recreation association 31 Enero Tercios appeared (as far as I have been able to find) around 2020, formed by history professional and amateurs who wanted to remember the Tercios units, organising re-enactments and activities all around the country. Their website is a bit chaotic, and might be slightly problematic with its language at points, but most people just seem to enjoy dressing up, playing with fake weapons, and going home to their phones after they wrap up.

One of the goals of the association is to establish the 31st of January as Tercios Day Día de los Tercios, organising activities and re-enactments throughout the country. It sounded interesting enough so we thought we would sign up the aforementioned day trip… only for it to be cancelled a couple of days later due to general lack of participation. Since there was no forecast of rain or snow, but sun for a change, we thought we could drop by on our own.

There were two main stages for the activities in Madrid: one was Plaza de la Villa (site of the historical town hall), the other Main Square Plaza Mayor. We walked through the latter on our way to the former, and there was absolutely no indication of anything going on. When we arrived at the Plaza de la Villa, they were still setting up camp (literally), so we went to have breakfast somewhere in order to be out of the cold. We had decided to join the “theatre visit” at 11:00, which was difficult as inscriptions were chaotic.

I’m not a guided-visit person, but this was… bad. My parent, who actually likes them, concurs. The “theatre” part came from three people tagging along in period dresses and a two-minute “assassination” in the end, after walking through a number of alleyways and stopping in the most awkward and windy points to see… unrelated buildings. I was completely unable to follow the theoretical plot line of the visit and how it… was any kind of plot, really. I’m still even unclear on who or why was assassinated and their relation to the Tercios.

Sequence of a "theatre play" showing the assassination of some Medieval character, complete with swordplay

The visit ended near the Army cathedral Iglesia Catedral de las Fuerzas Armadas, so I asked my parents if they minded stopping by St Michael’s church Iglesia de San Miguel, which had been closed the previous time I had been around. We were able to snoop inside, but just a little, as they were holding mass.

Neoclassical church

We then headed back towards the Plaza de la Villa, where there was a demonstration of how the pikers would train. This is the kind of thing I like to watch, but my parents don’t, especially in the cold. After a few minutes, they wanted to move on. By the time we reached the Plaza Mayor, the event there had finished and I only managed to get a photo of the ensemble.

Re-enactment of pikers formed at attention

We then headed off to a high-end traditional grill Asador de Aranda that my parent wanted to try. I can’t say I’d recommend the place, as they broke my heart. First, the menu promised baked potatoes and the waiter brought microwaved ones. As we were sitting near the actual wood oven, I had really hoped for oven-baked potatoes. The meat was all right, maybe a bit overcooked, and finally the advertised “five-star pudding” was not-at-all stellar. In general, it felt overhyped and overpriced.

After lunch, I debated whether to stay in Madrid or head back with my parents, but the next event on the Día de los Tercios schedule was a parade at 20:00… too long to wait in the cold. Hence, I decided to just make a note in my calendar for 2027, and quietly slip out to see all the re-enactments on my own. Knowing in advance that this event exists, I can keep an eye on it and plan for down time between the different activities.

22nd January 2026: The workshop that wasn’t (Madrid, Spain)

A while back I visited the printing museum Imprenta municipal in Madrid. I’ve since learnt that they have book-binding workshops, and I would very much like to attend one. So would at least one of my parents, and I was asked to sign them up online for one on the 22nd of January, a day when I was supposed to be at work. My project got delayed, so I ended up workshop-less and a bit envious. Just a bit. There’ll be other chances.

On the 21st, I received a notification that I could pick up some paperwork in town, so we arranged we would have lunch together after I had my documentation and they were done. We would all be taking the train, and I was a bit uneasy. I’ve complained about the railway system before, but just a few days before there had been a horrible train accident that killed over 40 people, and a slightly less horrific one that killed one person.

Though it did feel a bit uncomfortable when the train shook within the rails, we reached Madrid just a few minutes late, and I hopped off. It was extremely cold, not only because it was January, Spain had been hit with a string of storms just one after the other. After getting my documents, I realised I was rather close to the fountain I had missed when I was in the Bravo Murillo area exploring after Expogema, Fuente del Río Lozoya, which honours the river Lozoya, the source of the city’s drinking water. It was my third time trying to find the fountain and… it was getting cleaned, and thus empty and fenced off. I felt it was hilarious.

A fountain with female allegory decorations

I headed towards the underground and headed towards Tirso de Molina station. The station opened in 1921, and one of the halls retains the original tiling and decoration, the historical hall – Vestíbulo Histórico de Tirso de Molina, which is considered part of the underground museum network Museos de Metro de Madrid. The station has a bit of a black urban legend / history. It is located underneath the square Plaza de Tirso de Molina, which honours a Spanish friar, dramatist and poet. The square named after him used to be home to his own convent, a building that was expropriated and demolished during the Ecclesiastical confiscations in the 19th century. Apparently, there was a small graveyard associated to the convent, and human remains were found (and quietly reburied behind the walls) during the construction of the station. Creepy.

The historical access hall to the underground station - white with blue decorative tiles

Quite close stands the manor known as Palacio de la Duquesa de Sueca, an Age of Enlightenment building which was for a while featured in one of the most successful fictions on Spanish TV – El Ministerio del Tiempo (The Ministry of Time). It has been abandoned forever, it seems, and nobody quite knows what to do with it, so it is slowly wasting away.

Façacde of a manor with many windows and balconies

I walked to the small metropolitan museum Museo de San Isidro, which was running a special exhibition about the Temple of Debod and the town it used to stand on, fittingly called Debod. 1954-1964. Debod is the only free-standing Nubian temple outside Egypt. The building was dismantled during the International campaign to Save the Monuments of Nubia between 1960 and 1980, as the rising waters from the Nile, turning into Lake Nasser, swallowed them.

The exhibition did not only focus on the temple Templo de Debod, but put a lot of emphasis on the town of Debod itself, whose people were forcibly relocated to Kom Ombo. The region of Nubia stood between today’s Egypt and Sudan. It was home to the Kerma culture from around 2500 BCE until the area was conquered and incorporated to the New Kingdom of Egypt around 1500 BCE. Kerma culture is regarded as one of the earliest civilisations of Ancient Africa. A lot of knowledge about the region, including culture and customs, was lost with the move. It was a bit heart-wrenching, surprisingly even more than hearing about it in Egypt itself. The exhibit comprised a lot photographs and videos that showed the people who left, and you could see the desperation in their eyes.

A good part of the items shown were photographs of how the temple stood and how it was documented before getting dismantled in order to rebuild it – which in the end, they did wrong, as one of the entrance pillions was placed backwards. The building was originally erected in the 2nd century BCE, dedicated to the God Amun, creator and King of the Gods. He would later be merged with Ra, hence the Amun-Ra denomination for the Sun God. The small structure would be later expanded by Kings and Roman Emperors. It reached the Nile through a processional walkway that ended at a quay.

The temple was gifted to Spain in 1970, dismantled in 2,300 pieces. The whole thing was reconstructed as well as it could be, filling up the gaps with newer material in a process called anastylosis, and experts say it’s not even a good one. Today, the Templo de Debod stands in a park in the middle of Madrid, and can be accessed at weekends. Unfortunately, the sandstone is getting weathered, which threatens the integrity of the whole structuture. What is surprising is the contrast between all the photographs in the exhibition, and the complaint that there was not enough good documentation to re-erect the building.

Numibian archaeological artefacts (a chest, a hammer, bracelets and necklaces), and a b/w photograph of a small temple next to the Nile

After the exhibition, I walked around the museum once, then went out in the cold again. At least it was sunny, and after noon, so not that bad. During a conversation about Madrid must-dos, someone had mentioned two churches I did not know, which happened to be rather close. The first one I found was the Cathedral Church of the Armed Forces Iglesia Catedral de las Fuerzas Armadas (also known as Church of the Sacrament Iglesia del Sacramento). Though Spain is technically a non-religious country, this has not always been so. For a long time it was an officially Catholic country, and there is a strong catholic tradition amongst the armed forces. As a matter of fact, there is even a Military Archbishopric of Spain (Arzobispado Castrense de España), with seat in this cathedral. I am not sure how one can be an soldier and a priest, much less a bishop / colonel, but I am not an expert.

The cathedral is a Baroque building designed by Juan Gómez de Mora, with a Neoclassical altarpiece and many frescoes. It was built between 1671 and 1744 to be the church of a convent that has since disappeared. The main façade was built by Pedro de Ribera towards the end of the construction period. Today it belongs to the Ministry of Defence – I did not know state agencies could own churches in Spain.

Inside and out of a Baroque church

Nearby stands another important church, the Pontifical Basilica of Saint Michael Basílica Pontificia de San Miguel, another Baroque structure – actually it is considered one of the most important buildings in the Spanish Baroque. It is attributed to Italian architect Giacomo Bonavia and dates from the 1730s. Unfortunately, it closed at 13:15 and it was 13:13, so I could not come in.

In front of the church there is a sculpture called The Reader El Lector, a bronze statue by Félix Hernando García. The statue was recently moved there as part of the urban sculpture program, since a library was installed there in 2011. It is apparently a homage to Carlos Cambronero y Martínez, apparently one of the first “Madrid Historians”.

I headed back towards where I had to meet with my parents, and though I was early, so were they. Their workshop, which was scheduled to finish at 14:00, wrapped up at 13:20, so in the end I had to head there in a bit of a hurry. Once I picked them up, we walked to “a random restaurant” in theory. In practice, one of them had a very specific place in mind – Museo del Jamón. Self-described as a “family chain of restaurant”, the idea of a ham-focused restaurant was born in 1978. Since then, they have opened seven different eateries specialising in ham and other pork products, alongside several typical tapas.

The Spanish word for ham is jamón. It is obtained from the hind leg of a Black Iberian pig, usually. The ideal ham-producing swine lives range-free in oak groves (the dehesa) so it can feed on acorns, as they lead to the best meat, apparently. After the animal is slaughtered, the hind legs are salted and left to dry, in a curing process that may take up to 48 months. How much acorn the pig consumes as part of its diet, and whether or not this is supplemented, determines the quality of the final product, with the best hams being “100% acorn fed” – jamón 100% ibérico de bellota, marked with a black label.

Of course, many other products might be obtained from a pig – the most important sausages are lomo, chorizo and salchichón. Lomo refers to the tenderloin, the piece of meat underneath the ribs and along the spine, cured for about four months after being marinated in spices – normally oregano, garlic and paprika. Chorizo is a sausage made from pork meat and fat with added garlic, and can be either cured or fresh (the former is eaten as is, the latter is usually cooked). The meat is seasoned with smoked paprika (pimentón), which determines how spicy it becomes, and gives it a bright red colour. The best chorizo comes in natural casings, usually the intestines of the pig, and the curing process can take several months. Salchichón is similar to cured chorizo but there are more spices added – salt, pepper (often black grains), oregano, nutmeg, and garlic – and curing can last for three months. If the animal was an acorn-fed black Iberian pig, the monicker ibérico de bellota is added to the name.

We shared a salad (Ensalada de tomate y ventresca de atún), with tomato, tuna and orange – because my parents are unable to be in a restaurant without ordering a salad. We also ordered some battered squid Calamares a la andaluza, and a dish called “Recorrido Ibérico Bellota” – with bits of the different pork cuts: jamón de Bellota 50% Ibérico, chorizo Ibérico de Bellota, salchichón Ibérico de Bellota and lomo Ibérico de Bellota. Despite Madrid being dead in the centre of Spain, battered squid is an extremely typical dish, especially in sandwich form.

Lunch - breaded squid, salad, sausages and ham

I had been extremely lucky that the rainy weather had given a reprieve and I could carry my paperwork around safely, but it was windy and not that nice. Thus, after lunch we headed back towards the train, and we were rather lucky with the connections, so we were home rather early. During the train ride, I learnt hat someone from the binding workshop had decided to leave in a huff because it was “too basic”. I could have totally taken that spot!

4th December 2025: The Old Town Reprise {Prague, December 2025}

For our last half-day in Prague [Praha], it was decided that we were going to go back to the Old Town Hall Staroměstská radnice, in order to take a guided tour to see the machinery of the Prague Astronomical Clock Pražský orloj. I am not sure why we did not did the tour on Monday when we first visited, as we ended up paying for admission twice. However, a word to the wise: if you ever find yourself in Prague, do take the tour. The price is negligible in comparison to the ticket entrance and you will actually get to see something besides the view from the tower. We waited at the small frescoed hall for the tour to start.

Small hall in Prague town hall, decorated with frescoes on the ceiling and walls depicting historical scenes and herald motifs.

The guided tour was led by a very giddy lady who was extremely excted to describe all wars, murders, maiming and torture methods in full gory details. The visit started at the chapel, which is not the original one, but a reconstructed version. It is right behind the clock, so you can glimpse a bit into the mechanism. And glimpse means see a couple of gears and the sculptures. Then we continued into the only intact room of the area – the gothic Hall of Justice, which was honestly very impressive – and well maintained.

Prague town hall: reconstructed chapel and apostles inside the clock mechanism.

Gothic Justice room in the Prague town hall, with wooden decoration and ceiling.

We went on to visit a Baroque hall with paintings that depicted the Hussite war and the coronation of George of Poděbrady. The guide also explained that Good King Wenceslas, from the Christmas carol, had never been a king. We finally got to see some original frescos from before most of the Town Hall was destroyed – on the very last day of World War II.

Afterwards, we moved underground, to see the surviving Romanesque and Gothic foundations of the Old Town Hall and the city itself, which used to be 6 metres lower than it is today. They are not the only cellars in Prague [Praha] that can be visited, but they were pretty impressive and preserved.

Underground Prague tunnels and arches.

We did not have time for anything else after the visit, but I ditched my family then to do a quick souvenir-shop run, and met them at the hotel 15 minutes before pick-up. The driver could not find a parking spot, so he was 10 minutes late anyway. We got to the airport, went through security and tried to find somewhere to eat. My parent seemed to be desperately looking for something, anything, that was not Costa Coffee for lunch, but unfortunately for them – fortunately for me – nothing else was found. Ergo, I got a vanilla latte! My other parent was astonished by my happy “Costa Grin”. We had seen a few Costas around Prague through the visit, but aside from saying I liked the chain, I did not push to go into any. I knew there would be enough of them in the UK in a few days.

It did not take long for our gate to be called, and boarding started before schedule. Since I had paid for the upgrade, we were amongst the first to board the plane, despite being on the literal last row. The flight was all right – there was some turbulence, but nothing too bad. And when we were landing, I was surprised about how clearly you could spot the Torrejón Christmas park (hello there, light pollution).

We landed, got to the shuttle, then to the parking lot, and finally home. As a balance… I don’t know. More than a trip, I thought about this as “spending time with family somewhere else”, but I was a bit confused about my role in it. I was expected to sit back, but I was also expected to plan and guide, it felt like being on thin ice a couple of times. I was not disappointed because I made a big effort not to do much research beforehand – beyond what my parents had prepared. I know we missed a few interesting things, and we had a couple of hiccups, but Prague [Praha] was pretty good for a three-day escapade, and I got to see actual central Europe Christmas Markets, which we missed in Vienna in 2024.

I liked Prague’s Gothic – I know, no one is surprised. If anything, I was taken aback at how packed it was, especially tourist families with kids during weekdays. I think the whole Christmas market tourist pull is way more important than I had given credit to. Yes, I had seen actual group trips aimed to see them but… Just wow. Talk about packed. And finally, on the topic of famous and populated Christmas Markets – I am not sure a couple of them actually closed for the night. At least they were still open way past 22:00… Which would cause even more contrast a few days later in Oxford. It was also not as cold as I had expected or feared, which was decent for pictures. Maybe next time we can do something warmer. Like the North of Africa…

3rd December 2025: Josefov, the National Museum, and a Light Show {Prague, December 2025}

The city of Prague [Praha] has a rich history, and some of it is dark. Nevertheless, it cannot be ignored just because it is uncomfortable.

The day did not start well. After breakfast, I checked the plane tickets for the following afternoon’s return, and ran into the same issue as before – a message saying “you must check your bags”. Seriously, it felt like extortion, but I decided to let it go and pay up. That put us behind schedule – my mistake, I misunderstood the time we wanted to be out. On our way, a guy helped us out with directions, and offered money exchange. He was standing at the door of a legit shop. I did not trust him, but a second later my parent was talking to him! Remember my parent’s obsession with the bad exchange rate they claimed they had received from the bank? In the end, they got scammed out of a couple hundred bucks, as the guy gave him Russian roubles instead of Czech crowns. That was not a nice experience, and the day was still going to get a bit more difficult.

Since my parent just pocketed the money, we did not realise it was not valid until they tried to use it to pay for our first spot of the day in Josefov, the Old Jewish Quarter. Today the quarter is luxurious and mostly full of 20th century buildings, after it was almost completely demolished at the end of the 19th century. However, it may have started with the arrival of the first Jews in the 10th century, and reached its peak in the late 1500s. Before the reconstruction, it was composed of narrow streets and brick houses.

Amongst the few remaining historical buildings and structures there are a number of synagogues, the old town hall and the cemetery. Our first stop was Pinkas Synagogue Pinkasova synagoga. Built in the gothic style, it was completed in 1533, and during World War II, it became a repository of religious paraphernalia after the Nazis banned Jewish services. Today, it serves as a memorial to around 80,000 victims of the Holocaust. Their names are written on the walls, and there is a collection of drawings by children from between 1942 and 1944 – most of the children ended up murdered in Auschwitz. I had understood that the synagogue was working as a social centre, so I assumed the drawings were by local contemporary kids. When I realised what they were, it broke me inside. The wave of feelings – and tears – makes the whole experience a bit of a blur.

Interior of the Gothic Pinkas Synagogue, with the names of the victims of Holocaust written on the walls.

All the synagogues in the area are managed by the institution Jewish Museum in Prague Židovské muzeum v Praze, so there is one combined ticket for all of them. There was a small security check at each entryway, but the security guards were all extremely nice and kind. The Pinkas Synagogue was in the same controlled area as the Old Jewish Cemetery Starý židovský hřbitov.

The cemetery is one of the largest of its kind in Europe, and it was used between the 15th and 18th centuries. Since space was scarce, there are layers upon layers of burials, and the headstones often refer to someone who is buried in the lower levels. This scheme has allowed for older graves to remain through time, as the layers were added on top of the existing ones. Despite my general liking of old cemeteries, I found the place oppressive – probably because of the recent shock to my system.

Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague.

We then walked a couple of minutes to Klausen Synagogue Klausová synagoga. It is the second synagogue built in the same place, erected in 1884 in the Baroque style. It was the only one in that style spared by the urban renewal in the early 20th century. It struck me then that, even if I was aware of architectural styles in churches, I had never thought that synagogues in Europe would go through the same architectural trends. Then again, up until today, I don’t reckon I’d ever been into a synagogue that could still be used as such.

Interior of the Baroque Klausen Synagogue, Prague.

I later learnt that there is no actual “right” way to build a synagogue, and that any group of believers can erect one. This is usually done in the architectural style of the time and place. Synagogues have a raised platform or pulpit, the bimah [בּימה], from where the Torah is read. The Torah [תורה] comprises the first five books of the Hebrew Bible [Tanakh, תַּנַ״ךְ], and, usually in scroll form, is read daily. When not in use, the Torah is kept in a chest or cabinet called the Ark [Aron Kodesh, ארון קודש‎], which dictates how the whole building is erected, as attendees are supposed to face Jerusalem for prayers. Many synagogues have an eternal light or flame, always lit somewhere in front of the Torah Ark.

Next, we visited the Old New Synagogue Staronová synagoga, the oldest active synagogue in the Czech Republic [Česká Republika], and one of the earliest examples of Gothic in the city of Prague [Praha]. It was originally the New Synagogue to an Old Synagogue, but when the latter was demolished, and even newer ones were built, hence the confusing name. It felt a bit closed off and claustrophobic, as it was accessed by a long corridor and packed with three tourist groups.

Interior of the Old New Synagogue, Prague, showing the curtain that covers the sacred texts.

We got a bit lost on our way out, so I was able to catch a glimpse of a bit of an oddity – the Prague Metronome Pražský metronom, a giant instrument that… swings. It holds no other function than moving along with time, it does not even click like a normal metronome would. It’s officially named the Time Machine and it was erected by artist Vratislav Novák. I saw it on the other side of the Vltava River, across the Czech Bridge Čechův most.

We finally reached the Spanish Synagogue Španělská synagoga. Built in the 19th century, it replaced the Old Synagogue, and its side, which used to be a hospital, is now the Museum. It was erected in a Moorish revival style, with two stories, several balconies and a lot of gold and golden. It hosts an exhibit about the history of Jews in the Czech Republic, but there is no tangible relation to Spain, the name seems to be a reference to the art style of Al-Andalus.

Golden interior of the Spanish Synagogue, Prague.

And for some reason (aside from him being Jewish, of course), there is a Statue of Franz Kafka Socha Franze Kafky standing next to the Spanish Synangogue. It is a bronze sculpture of the writer riding a hollow suit, based on the short story Description of a Struggle [Beschreibung eines Kampfes].

The last synagogue we visited was Maisel Synagogue Maiselova synagoga, currently a museum. It is Neo Gothic, after a previous building was destroyed. It has been restored recently, and hosts a very impressive display of menorah [מְנוֹרָה], a candelabrum with seven branches, symbol of Judaism since ancient times.

Gothic Maiselova Synagogue from the outside, Prague.

We set off then to try and find the nearby underground station, near the Jan Palach square and park Park u náměstí Jana Palacha. There are several buildings and views from the square. We did not stop for long there, and hopped onto the underground to get to Wenceslas Square Václavské nám. We had a bit of time before our lunch reservation, so we decided that the two-story souvenir shop at the corner was a perfect place to spend 20 minutes because it had heating. Afterwards, we walked down the square and crossed the Art Nouveau palace-turned-shopping-hub Lucerna Palace Pasáž Lucerna. Looking back, it could have been a cool place to explore with the idle time we had, but the pedestrian passage was not heated…

We finally got to the restaurant that my parent had wanted to try from the moment Prague [Praha] had been decided upon – Pork’s. As the name conveys, their menu is basically comprised of pork dishes, and reportedly they serve the best pork knuckle in town. The original restaurant, Pork’s Mostecká, is in Malá Strana, close to the Charles Bridge, and it was the one my parent had their heart set on… Unfortunately, it books out a month in advance. We had been able to find a spot in its sister restaurant Pork’s Vodičkova.

The place was full and bustling, but we had our table ready for us. We ordered two signatory dishes – pork knuckle with mustard, horseradish, crispy sauerkraut Vepřové koleno, hořčice, křen, křupavé zelí, a salad (Lettuce salad with grilled goat cheese, beetroot and marinated pear Listový salát s grilovaným kozím sýrem, řepou a marinovanou hruškou) and a weird potato thing I had seen and was extremely curious about – Potato pancake with sour cabbage, fried in pork fat from our knuckles (Bramborák s kysaným zelím smažený na výpeku z našich kolen), which turned out to be a sort of waffle sandwich (I loved it, because I’m weird like that). The knuckle was all right but I had to peel off some of the fat because it made the dish too heavy on the stomach. For dessert, we shared some apricot dumplings – Homemade fruit dumplings with cottage cheese, sugar and warm butter, Domácí ovocné knedlíky z tvarohového těsta, tvarohem a cukrem sypané, máslem přelité.

Pork knuckles portion with cabbage and mustard.

We left the restaurant around 15:00 and my parents, who were still a bit on the upset side, decided to go to the hotel, claiming they wanted a break before the light show at 19:30. Since my sibling was up to anything, I decided to head out to the main building of the National Museum Historická budova Národního muzea. We would not have time to do the whole thing, but at least we could wander for a couple of hours and snoop around.

The main or historical building was designed by architect Josef Schulz and erected between 1885 and 1891, when it was inaugurated. It is a magnificent structure in the Neo Renaissance style, grandiose and decorated with gold and frescoes. It feels like a palace, and honestly, it does not look like a museum at all. The building was damaged during the succeeding conflicts in the 20th century, so it ended up closing between 2011 and 2018 for extensive renovations. At the moment, it hosts four permanent exhibitions: the Hall of Minerals, Miracles of Evolution, Windows into Prehistory, and (Czech) History, though the latter seems to only cover from the Middle Ages to the first half of the 20th century. Thus, I guess that it doubles as natural history and archaeology museum.

Prague National Museum building, huge constructiond ecorated with gold, white and marble.

We started at the Hall of Minerals, which is a traditional collection of minerals in vintage cases. The meteorite collection is pretty good, especially the moldavites. Moldavite vltavín is a mineral derived from a meteorite impact (a tektite), around 15 million years ago. It is a green gemstone, local to the area of Bohemia. It is not uncommon, but not widely available in the world (and unfortunately none was for sale in the gift shop).

We got to the prehistory ward, and it was really fun. As far as huge diversity goes, the exhibit was not impressive, but what they lack in actual stuff, they make up for with models. We entered through the Paleocene room with a mammoth (technically there is a baby mammoth too but that had been moved to another exhibition) and the skeleton of a woolly rhinoceros, almost complete. The latter is either haunted and has tried to escape, or someone seriously mismeasured its case, because the horn had cracked the glass at some point. Some other models included a sabretooth cat and a scene of steppe wolves hunting.

We went back in time towards older epochs. There was a mosasaur hunting an ammonite, along with a number of fossils from both invertebrates and vertebrates. We reached the Age of Dinosaurs. They have literally one bone, a femur, of an ornithopod dinosaur, similar to an iguanodon. From that, they managed to describe a whole species, Burianosaurus augustai (2017), similar to an Iguanodon. Upon studying the specimen, scientists also discovered that there were shark teeth marks on the bone, so someone recreated a whole scene of the poor beast dying and being torn apart by sharks. I’m not even kidding.

Further back in time, and deeper into the museum, we reached the wall of national fossils – trilobites. There were cases about the primitive oceans, with dioramas and replicas. From there, we entered the world of evolution and biodiversity, which again had great models but humble actual exhibits.

The History Exhibit starts in the 8th century and lasts until World War I. It held a lot of interesting artefacts that reflected how life was at the beginning of the 20th century, including some fascinating objects such as toys. The Prehistory area was a bit more strange, with lots of human remains in reproductions of burials (I really hope they were reproductions and nobody had relocated a whole necropolis…).

Prague National Museum: Bone and reconstruction of burianosaurus - the reconstruction is a dead dinosaur being eaten by sharks.

Prague National Museum: Skeleton of a Wooly rhino, reconstruction of a mammoth, colourful corals and marine mammal reconstructions (seal, walrus, sea lions).

Prague National Museum Historical displays: old town clay tiles, Medieval book, religious sculptures, carriage and toy sewing machine.

We left the museum to head back towards the hotel. There was a small Christmas Market at the end of Wenceslas Square Václavské nám, and we passed by yet another one: the regular market Havelské tržiště had been turned into a festive checkpoint, but most of the stalls had the same stuff at the same prices. It was still packed though. We made a stop at the Choco-Story shop to see if they had started selling the Christmas-tree sweets we had seen made the day before, but no such luck.

We went back the hotel to regroup and find out what time they were picking us up the following day. Later in the evening, we left once more to find Broadway Theatre so we could watch the WOW Show Black Light Theatre Prague. Notice the English name, it was clearly aimed at tourists, but the only one my parents found advertised at the hotel. Doors opened at 19:30, but placement was free, so we wanted to be there around 19:15. As we checked in, we were given some glow sticks. I don’t think my family had ever held glow sticks in their life…

We had to go down a couple of floors worth of stairs to get to the actual theatre and when we got to the stalls, we ended up getting pretty horrible seats for some reason or another. Soon the venue began to fill up. There was a huge group of young tourists who had obviously been raised in a barn. They yelled and burped and, when lights went off, they decided to start throwing the glow sticks. One got me in the back of the head, and damn, those things hurt.

Prague’s black light theatre (černé divadlo) works with black backgrounds, UV lights and fluorescent elements to create visual illusions. Basically, you only see brightly coloured bits, either props, face paint, or clothing. It was… weird. Not what I was expecting at all. The idea was that a guy came back from work, watched some TV, then went to sleep, and we got to see all his dreams, in dance version. At some point, the actors bounced some big balls at the audience for us to play with, and the rude macro-group decided to play dodge-ball with them. Some dancers also played spiders which had to move over the audience. All in all, it was an interesting experience, a bit ruined by the company, but I did not like it much. A bit too surreal for me.

Dinner was again at the shopping centre – not much choice, at the only open sandwich place. One of these days, my family will realise that buying snacks in advance is a good idea. That day was not today.

2nd December 2025: From the Pražský hrad Castle, downwards {Prague, December 2025}

It was a grey morning in Prague [Praha] when we headed down for breakfast. The buffet was packed and the coffee horrible, but I was able to find cranberry juice, hard-boiled eggs, bread and cheese. The goal of the day was visiting other areas within the UNESCO World Heritage Site Historic Centre of Prague, starting from the castle to make our way down. Thus, we jumped onto the public transport system – my parents could ride free due to their ages, and my sibling and I bought tickets. The ticketing system allows you to ride for a set period of time after validating, which is done at the gate. We rode the underground to the Malostranská stop, at the foot of the hill where the castle was built. This area of the city is called Malá Strana, the Lesser Town – it is a historical name, because there is nothing “lesser” about it.

Prague Castle Pražský hrad is the largest ancient fortress in the world – a huge complex of buildings delimited by a defensive wall. It hosts the official residence of the current President of the Republic, and in the past it was the place from where the kings of Bohemia and Holy Roman Emperors ruled. Construction began around 870, with the establishment of a walled church on top of a hill overlooking the area. The current palace was built under the reign of Charles IV (Karel IV), who also reinforced the fortifications. The enclosure hosts several notable areas and buildings, such as the Cathedral and the Golden Lane.

The first step was, however, climbing up from the underground stop to the castle itself – literally. This was done via stairs, which fortunately were not frosty. They were… steep, steeper than they looked, considering how wide each step was. I was a bit out of breath by the time we were up… and once at the gate there was still more uphill way to walk!! We reached the ticket office and decided on a “Prague Castle – Main circuit” (Pražský hrad – hlavní okruh) ticket, which included the four key sites: the Old Royal Palace, St. George’s Basilica, the Golden Lane, and St. Vitus Cathedral.

Right next to the ticket office there was the access to the Golden Lane Zlatá ulička. It was originally an area where the castle guards lived. Today, it is a narrow alley with coloured houses, many of which have been converted into souvenir shops or tiny ethnography museums, trying to show how people used to live there – the seamstress, the alchemist, the goldsmith, the fortune-teller… Some famous or important historical figures have dwelt there, most notably writers Franz Kafka – with a bookshop where he used to dwell – and Jaroslav Seifert (1984 Nobel Prize in Literature), and the fortune-teller Matylda Průšová. There is also a collection of weapons and armours.

Golden Alley and reconstructed dwellings: a bedroom and the alchemist's office.

Our next stop was the Basilica of St George Bazilika svatého Jiří. Despite its Baroque façade from the late 17th century, the inside is purely Romanesque. The church is actually the oldest surviving building in the castle complex, consecrated in the year 921. Fortunately, the interior has been kept Baroque-free, and it displays a severe limestone appearance (though it had to be restored after World War II) with frescoes behind the altar.

Baroque exterior of the church of St George and Romanesque frescoes inside.

The crown jewel (in my not-so-humble gothic-loving opinion) of the castle is the Cathedral of St. Vitus – formally the Metropolitan Cathedral of Saints Vitus, Wenceslaus and Adalbert Katedrála svatého Víta, Václava a Vojtěcha. The current building is Gothic, and dates back from 1929. No, that’s not a typo. Although construction started in 1344, it did not end until the 20th century! The current building was erected over a previous Romanesque church when the latter became too small. It was sponsored by Charles IV (Karel IV) of Bohemia and originally designed by Matthias of Arras, who obviously did not live enough to see the work completed.

Gothic Cathedral of St Vitus.

Prague’s Medieval history was heavily influenced by the Hussite Wars. The Hussites were reformists, an early movement of what would later become Protestantism, founded by Jan Hus (who ended up burnt to death for his trouble). The Hussite Wars lasted between 1419 and 1434, and were rather complicated, with people changing sides, a civil war, foreign interventions actually called “crusades”… In the end, the “moderate” Hussites allied themselves with the Catholics to defeat the “radical” Hussites, and eventually rose to power as George (Jiří) of Poděbrady was crowned the first protestant King of Bohemia in 1458. While the king himself was a Hussite, he was a moderate and thus tolerant of the Catholics and their rites.

However, with the Hussite uprising, works of the cathedral came to a stop. It stood half-built until the 17th century. Finally, the early 20th century saw serious efforts to finish it in time for St. Wenceslaus’ Jubilee in 1929. Despite its 600 years of construction, the building is simply magnificent, even if there was no sun to shine through the coloured windows. The pointed arches are just perfect, and the stonework has that lovely patina that they’ve cleaned out from Notre Dame in Paris.

The final building included in our ticket / pass was the Old Royal Palace Starý královský palác, a magnificent Gothic – with some Renaissance touches – building dating back from the 12th century. The Vladislav Hall, built in the 14th century, is vaulted, with gothic nerves. There is a small room with a throne and replicas of some of the crown jewels. Upstairs, rooms with frescoes. To the side, there was a long queue to see the “Defenestration Window” – during the Hussite Wars, people developed a taste for throwing other people out of windows. In 1618, during one of the many Protestant-Catholic moments of tension, two regents and a secretary were pushed out of one of the windows in the palace. They survived. According to the side who tells the story, they were either saved by angels or by falling onto a pile of cow dung.

Interior of the former Bavarian Palace, with gothic vaults.

The family decided to get going. We passed by newer buildings, where the President lives, and headed down the hill. We found a restaurant that my parent seemed to like and we were lucky enough that they had room for us. The staff at U Dvou slunců was pretty nice, and despite me thinking I wanted some dumplings, I ended up ordering Smažený obalený sýr, fried breaded cheese with chips and homemade tartar sauce – just because I love cheese. It was delicious.

After lunch, we went to Malostranský chrám svatého Mikuláše, the church of St. Nicholas Church in Malá Strana. It is considered the most important Baroque church in town. There are frescoes all over the ceiling, and the decoration is not extremely over the top. The dome is 20 metres in diameter, and the columns are actually made of fake marble, but I would never have been able to tell. It hosts two organs, one of which was currently out of service for restoration.

Baroque interior of St Nicholas Malá Strana church, with frescoes on the ceiling.

Then, we headed to the Church of Our Lady Victorious and The Infant Jesus of Prague (mouthful) – Kostel Panny Marie Vítězné a Pražské Jezulátko. The church was founded in 1584, and it is also Baroque. It is famous because it hosts the statue of the Infant Jesus of Prague Pražské Jezulátko, a small wooden sculpture of Spanish origin from the 16th century, which somehow made its way to Bohemia through the House of Habsburg. The centre of one of the major pilgrimages in Europe, the figure is about half a metre high, and it is displayed wearing embroidered vestments. On the day of our visit, the clothes were purple, as it was Advent. The church also has a display of nativity scenes and a small museum with different garments for the Infant Jesus that have been donated by wealthy benefactors. I have to say though that the poor thing is… hideous.

Baoque interior of Our Lady Victorious and the Child Jesus sculpture.

The sun was setting and it was time to cross Charles Bridge Karlův most over the Vltava river. It is a Medieval stone bridge, built between 1357 and 1402, over 500 metres long! There is a tower on each side – Malá Strana Bridge Tower (Malostranská mostecká věž) and Old Town Bridge Tower (Staroměstská mostecká věž), both gothic, and 50 statues along the way. There are also gas streetlamps that are manually lit during Advent! Unfortunately though, since the lighting is a thing, the bridge was swarmed, and it was extremely difficult not to lose each other, so we did not get to see much.

Charles bridge, with an official lighting a gas streetlight.

Back in the Old Town Staré Město pražské we got to see the Klementinum, a Baroque astronomical tower and library that I would have loved to visit, but it was not in the schedule – I would have prioritised it over the churches, but as I mentioned, I had not done any of the planning. My parents decided they were done then, so my sibling and I stayed behind again, after arranging to meet at 19:30. We explored some candy shops, and eventually caught the Astronomical Clock Pražský orloj at 17:00.

After the 17 bell strokes, I proposed my sibling to go to the chocolate museum, Choco-Story: Prague Chocolate Museum. It is not big, and it features different stages in the history of chocolate – its use in Pre-Columbian cultures, how the Spanish introduced it to Europe, and how it became a popular treat amongst the higher classes, then it became democratised. The last room was explicitly about a Czech company that used to sell chocolate. In the second-to-last exhibit there was an unlimited chocolate tasting station. Yes, the person at the entrance used the word “unlimited”. We of course took pictures with all the available props. And ate chocolate.

Choco Story Prague scenes related to chocolate history - from the Mayans to the Victorian to the present day, with the tasting station.

We eventually left the museum, and that placed us in the right place-and-time to see how they made candy from scratch. The two guys started with blocks of different colours – green, white and reddish. They worked the material until it was almost viscous. First, they made three “triangles” with the green material, which they put on top of each other. Then, they filled up with white until they had a cylinder, and wrapped that in red and green – it was a Christmas tree in the middle of a snowy circle! They ended up with something that had around 20 centimetres in diameter. And then suddenly they started pulling and pulling and made sweets that were no bigger than 1 cm, with the Christmas tree in the middle. It was astonishing!! And even better… they shared samples!

Candy-making show. The sweets have little Christmas trees inside.

On the way out, we decided to be weak and bought the blueberry tartlets we had spotted the day before, along with some souvenirs. I got a silly Christmas bauble. We headed back to the room to eat the tartlets, and at 19:00 we dropped by our parents room to regroup. At first we considered having dinner in one of the Christmas Markets, but in the end, they decided that they did not want to eat standing up, and we went to a random sandwich shop the Palladium Prague shopping centre.

To end the day, however, we did go to the Christmas Market in Náměstí Republiky square, but not for food, just for a drink. A typical drink – traditional honey wine, which I didn’t know (because I don’t drink), but it is just another word for mead. So instead of gentle mulled wine, we got a kick out of Tradiční medovina. Boy, did we sleep well that night.

Honey Wine.

Before going to sleep though, I had been tasked with booking tickets for a light show the following evening, which was a bit of a challenge on the phone – no way I’m putting my credit card on public Wi-Fi – with a website that kept trying to change its language from English into Czech.

15th November 2025: The Côte d’Azur {France & Monaco, November 2025}

D****e was leaving Paris about an hour earlier than myself, so I decided to tag along to her station and then backtrack to mine (hey, it was extra friend-time). I’m not good at going back to sleep after waking up, anyway. Thus, we checked out of the hotel together, and I rode with her, then changed platforms towards Paris Gare de Lyon to take my long-distance train. The ride across France was six hours, but it was very cheap, and not much longer than I would take flying from home to my destination.

The current iteration of the Paris Gare de Lyon station was erected following designs of Marius Toudoire around 1900, so it was ready for the World Fair. It features a clock tower and an inner ironwork structure combined with decorative details typical of the Belle Époque design. The station was bustling even early in the morning – I arrived before 7:00 for my 8:21 departure. My ticket said that I would have to leave through hall 3, but there was an announcement from hall 1, where I waited.

Inner platform of Gare de Lyon station.

Since the previous day I had been tired and had not thought to buy food for the day, I had to pay the price of travel-hub lunch. I got myself some cookies, a Coke and a sandwich – chicken in traditional sauce. I also decided to start a Christmas ornament collection, and got myself a shiny Paris bauble. Access to the train opened ten to fifteen minutes before departure, and it was a bit chaotic. My seat was in the low 500s, and for some reason you could not go from one carriage to another (or at least from my carriage to another?) so I’m happy I got the right door on the first try. The train left on time, at 8:21 sharp, and I slept for the first couple of hours. Around 11:00 I was hungry, so I decided to pull out my sandwich… which ended up being “tandoori sauce”, not “traditional sauce”. Take that, caffeine-deprived brain. For a second, I considered not eating it, fearing it would upset my stomach. However, I was hungry enough that I did not really care, and it was not too spicy. I had another nap afterwards again, and before I knew it I had arrived at the Gare de Nice-Ville station in Nice, in the south-east of France, the area known as the Côte d’Azur (Azure Coast) or French Riviera.

Gare de Nice station from outside.

The first hominids may have roamed the area as far as 400,000 years ago. However, the city was founded around the 350 BCE by settlers of Greek origin, naming it after Nike, goddess of victory. There was a nearby Gallic-then-Roman settlement, Cemenelum, which was eventually absorbed by the growing Nice. During many years throughout history, it could be considered that the region was part of Italy in one way or another. In 1860, the territory was given to France, though not all the Niçoises were happy about that. The Italy sympathisers were repressed without much success.

After the annexation to France and the modernisation of the railway network, Nice became popular amongst the English aristocracy, who enjoyed spending winter there. Holiday-makers included Queen Victoria, for whom a full hotel was built, and her son Edward VII. This would eventually lead to the city’s economy boom during the second half of the 20th century, after it was liberated from the WWII occupation.

In 2021, Unesco recognised the uniqueness of Nice declaring it World Heritage as Nice, Winter Resort Town of the Riviera, with emphasis on the winter part. The development of winter resorts was different from the summer ones, creating layer upon layer of new structures. The so-called Belle Époque architecture became popular, but all in all, the layout of the city is quite complex, due to both history (grand hotels near Roman ruins) and geography (beaches and cliffs).

I headed out to the hotel, which was very near the station, dropped off my stuff and went on exploring. The weather was great, so I could forego one of my layers, even. I was starting to understand the “mild winter” reputation. I first headed down the Avenue Jean Médecin, the main commercial artery of the town, until I reached the promenade.

On the way, I stopped at the basilica-church Basilique Notre-Dame de l’Assomption, a Neo Gothic building designed by Charles Lenormand and erected in the 1860s, after the city was incorporated to France, as gothic was (is?) considered a “very French style” (thanks, Viollet-Le-Duc) and more “French architecture” was desired in the city. The building was not open, so I continued down the avenue until I reached the large Place Masséna, the main square of the city. It is surrounded by red buildings of Italian architecture, and a fountain called Fontaine du Soleil, the fountain of the sun, representing the Greek god Apollo.

Neo-gothic basilica.

Place Masena with Italian-architecture building and a monumental fountain.

After crossing the Esplanade Georges Pompidou and leaving behind an ugly monument thing Neuf lignes obliques, I found myself at the famous Nice promenade and the Mediterranean Sea. In front of me, a line of private and public beaches made of rounded boulders. On my right, the Promenade des anglais (the Walkway of the English), and on my left the Quai des États-Unis (United States Quay). I turned left, but I could not prevent getting distracted by the beaches. Leaving behind the opera house Opéra de Nice, where nothing was on, I spent some time sitting by the ocean before I continued my way.

Etats-Unis quai and the beach.

Waves on a pebble-and-stone beach.

I diverted a little back into the old town to visit the cathedral Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate de Nice – Cathedral of Saint Reparata. Construction started in 1650 in the Baroque style, and it went on for centuries until it was declared complete in 1949. The building has one bell tower and ten lateral chapels. It enshrines the relics of Saint Reparata, which arrived in Nice in 1690.

Catholic cathedral of Nice, a Baroque building.

After wandering Old Nice for a bit, I started the climb up the historic park Colline du Château, where the old Nice castle and cathedral stood. Today it offers panoramic views, ruins, playgrounds and… cemeteries for some reason. There is a “free” lift, but someone stood at the entrance, looking very much like they were charging a fee. I wanted to climb up the stairs on foot for the views anyway. Though it was before 16:00, the sky was already in sunset mode.

Sunset over the sea.

The ascent was not difficult, three or four flights of stairs before I reached the small building that tops the tower Tour Bellanda, the first viewpoint. The structure was originally a medieval defensive structure, but it was destroyed and rebuilt as a place to enjoy the views. I continued on, through the hill / park / historical site. There are several viewpoints towards both sides of the city, along with historical ruins, mosaic decorations, fountains, even the aforementioned cemeteries… All in all I had a lot of fun exploring.

Views of Nice - roofs, coast and ocean.

Collage of the Chateau de Nice: ruins, a waterfall and an octopus-shaped collage.

It had become dark by the time I left the parks, and I somehow ended up re-entering the city down some historical stairs which landed me right into the Medieval quarter again. After going back to the beach for some more wave sounds, I undid my path towards the hotel, taking the exact same route.

Medieval Nice at night, with the cathedral tower at the end.

Waves on a pebble beach at sunset.

There was a bookshop on the way, and I really wanted to stop and buy a book I knew was out that weekend, but honestly? D****e had brought so many presents for me that it would not have fit into the backpack… What I did buy was dinner and breakfast for the following day at the supermarket in front of the hotel – read: coffee and a sandwich. Oh, and a smoothie because it looked awesome.

I spent the last couple of hours of the evening in the hotel, watching bad creature films on YouTube before I went to bed.

20th September 2025: The Mercury Mine in Almadén {Road Trip & Almadén, September 2025}

My lodging in Almadén included breakfast, so I had a coffee and a toast – better than dinner the previous night, but this time there was the hotel lady working the bar. Afterwards, I just grabbed my things and redid half of my tour from the previous night, and re-visit all the spots inscribed as World Heritage Heritage of Mercury. Almadén and Idrija.

The former mining school, the first one created in Spain, Antigua Escuela de Ingeniería de Minas was still closed – it is not open to visitors due to its poor conservation state. It is a Baroque building erected in the 1780s, with a sober façade and wooden interior with basements and semi-basements to deal with the steep street outside, the whole building designed around a master staircase.

I climbed up towards the castle Castillo de Retamar. Historically, the Romans were the first to intensively exploit the mines, as they used cinnabar for pigments. Later, the Moors started distilling mercury, which they used for decoration. There are testimonies of fountains of mercury running in Al-Andalus – let’s face it, quicksilver is a fascinating thing. As the Moors wanted to protect their dominion over the mine – and the whole territory, including the water sources – they erected the castle in the 12th century. The building was later reinforced by the Order of Calatrava, but today there are only a few remains: the brick foundations of what could have been the keep, topped with a 14th-century bell tower.

I finally headed out towards the mining complex Parque Minero de Almadén. When the mine closed down in 2003, it had been the largest producer of mercury in the world throughout the current era – it is calculated that one third of the mercury used in the world comes from Almadén. The catch? Several of them, actually. First of all, mercury is toxic. Second, the exploitation of the mine was less than stellar – at a point in history, digging in the mine was a punishment for capital crimes, considered worse than being sent to row in the navy, with workers being little more than slaves. Third, the mine is surrounded by underground water reservoirs that percolated slowly into the tunnels, which reach 700 metres deep, threatening to inundate them. If breaking down rock was hard, so was carrying the mineral, along with bags of never-ending water, up and out. Since the mines closed, the water has flooded most of the 19 under-levels of the mine, rising up until the third one.

With the mine closed, life in Almadén dwindled down. The area opened to visitors in 2008. When the Unesco Heritage Declaration came in 2012, it breathed a bit of a new air into the town, turning it into a tourist destination, but lack of management makes it, in the end, barely worth a day’s visit. Visits to the mine are only guaranteed at the weekends, when the museum located in the university is closed down. Reservation of activities is confusing, and unless you’re a whole group there is no way to book a complete visit. I had booked the guided visit to the mine at 10:30 in the morning and a visit to the museums in the afternoon. I was not sure that I could do both before Spanish lunch time, but figured out I would be able to talk my way into the museums early if both things could be combined in one go. It was actually the cashier’s idea to have me do so, even better. One of the museums was closed and there was no warning about it anywhere but Google Maps, which feels a bit like cheating.

The main entrance to the mining complex Parque Minero de Almadén is locked down. There is a side building with an open door and a sign reading “we don’t have any information about tourist visits”, which leads to the Visitors’ Centre. That was confusing. As I came in, there was a large group who had not booked in advance because they were afraid they’d feel claustrophobic, and now they had no tickets. The cashier managed to fit them into the afternoon visit. I talked to him about my bookings and he told me to go to the museums after my mine visit, and to wander around while the rest of the group came together.

The lift that reaches inside the mine (modern lift in old encasing)

Of course, there was a family with young children absolutely in the wrong mind frame to get into a poorly-lit underground tunnel for a couple of hours. Fortunately, there were two groups organised and I made sure to insert myself into the child-free one. I didn’t want a repeat of the Cueva del Viento, where a bunch of information was lost due to kids being kids. And I understand that kids are kids but… for me it’s hard enough to focus on the information from a guide without the added distractions.

The visit into the mine only goes down to the first floor and an upper sub-gallery, after which you ride out in the “mining train”. Before starting, you need to get your helmet, and some lanterns are dealt out to each group to improve visibility in the tunnels. The rules are simple: distribute the lanterns throughout the group, keep light pointed at the floor. Apparently, those pointers are too hard to follow – my group had three lights together in the middle of the group, pointed upwards all the time. Good thing phones have torches now.

The descent to the mine is done through a modern-times lift installed in a former shaft Pozo de San Teodoro, down 50 metres to the gallery. It did not feel claustrophobic to me, and surprisingly, I was more impressed about knowing about the water creeping up than the rock above my head. The visit took about two hours and a half. Along the walk we saw areas that were worked on from the 17th to the 19th centuries, along some of the machinery that came into play in the 20th.

Inside the Almadén mine - corridors and mining galleries and a well to extract the water.

Inside the Almadén mine - corridors sustained by brick. In one of the pictures there is a bat flying but you can't see it.

Don’t get me wrong, back in the day mining those tunnels must have been beyond horrible. It is impossible to describe the history of mine without considering the harsh conditions the workers had to endure, especially the prisoners that were all but enslaved there for decades. The most intense exploitation of the mine happened during the age of the Spanish Empire and its expansion to America. Mercury became a key ingredient in the production of gold and silver in the New World.

Inside the Almadén mine - corridors sustained either by brick (newer) or wood (older).

Inside the Almadén mine - corridors and an image of the Virgin Mary.

Throughout the works in the mine, various exploitation strategies were used, digging both horizontally and in angles. We saw different methods and tools, from plain old pickaxes to modern hydraulic hammers, and the room where the mules would work to help extract the cinnabar. We were shown corridors held up by wooden beams – which were discontinued after in the mid 1750s there was a fire that lasted two years – and later brick ones. We saw shafts that had water at the bottom, and in the end we rode a little mining train to come up to street level. The visit ended with a brief lookout and explanation of the furnaces used to purify the mercury.

A piece of cinnabar embedded in the rock within the Almadén mine.

The mining train that used to transport cinnabar and now transports tourists out of the mine.

Rusted distilling equipement, metres high, where mercury was produced from cinnabar when the mine was in operation.

Afterwards, I had my visit to the museums. One of them has an explanation of the mining procedures, the same thing we had heard within the mine itself. The second held the former workshops, which displayed machinery to keep up with the maintenance of all the apparatuses used within the mine. I was the only person who had booked those tickets, so it was a quiet visit. I was also allowed to amble around the outer part of the mining park, seeing all the heavy-duty machines.

I left the mining park and tried to find the historical gates. The entrance to the mines has always been walled off – historically to protect the valuable resources it held. I could see the restored Puerta de Carlos IV. This gate would have taken me to the Mercury Museum, currently closed. There was another gate, but the overgrown vegetation made it impossible to do more than glimpse it.

Mining equipment and buildings on the outer part of the mine in Almadén, including an excavator, the mechanical shop and the classic door, in red brick.

My next step was heading back downtown until I reached the bullfighting ring Plaza de Toros de Almadén. During thirty-month fire of the mine, which started in 1755, the miners had to work on anything, anywhere, to raise some money. One of their ways to get income was converting the communal garden into a bullfighting ring – at least that is one theory. Today, it is considered the second-oldest ring in the world, with the characteristic that the coso (the actual bullring) is not a circle but a hexagon. It is an important national monument and part of the Heritage Site.

Bullfighting ring in Almadén. The sand pit is hexagonal, which is its main characteristic.

In front of the entrance to the bullring stands the Monument to the Miner Monumento al Minero, which takes a new meaning after having visited the mine itself and heard about all the hardships and dangers within its galleries.

And then came the hard job to find a place to grab a bite. I wanted to try a typical dish from a restaurant with a typical name, but they had run out… For real. At least they let me have lunch at the bar… It made me decide to buy something from the local supermarket to have dinner later on. After lunch, I went back to the hotel to wait for 17:00, when the last monument would open.

This was the former hospital Real Hospital de Mineros de San Rafael. It was built between 1755 and 1775 – started during the fire – in order to treat miners who became ill or had an accident in the mine. The most common malady was hydrargyria – mercury poisoning – though of course there were physical accidents, especially loss of fingers after dynamite was introduced.

The visit has three parts of sorts. On the right there is a bit on the history of mining medicine and mercury poisoning. On the left, a very humble display of what is called “the archive” – documentation related to the mine and mining operations. Upstairs, a ward with some archaeological items and an exhibition about how the layman lived outside the mine, with a chilling panel explaining that the work in the mine was considered so dangerous that children would not be allowed to play when there was a relative in the galleries.

Mining hospital - a baroque building with some exhibits inside, amongst them cinnabar, mercury (sealed away) and a wagon

Afterwards, I moved towards the current university, which has been built around and over the former prison Real Cárcel de Forzados, but there was nothing to see from the outside, and the campus was closed as it was a weekend. However, I was on a small hill, so I decided to continue upwards and see if I could get a general view of the mining park. I ended up at a small forest-park, but did not get a great view.

A general view of the town of Almadén. It shows that it is located on a hilltop. The main structures seen are the mining complex on the left (a grey mass on top of a black gorge) and the castle at the very top.

I headed downtown again and I headed towards a tobacco shop I had seen in a small side street. They had souvenirs in the window, so I hoped that they would sell some mercury. Technically, you cannot buy mercury in Europe – both the Mining Park and the Hospital staff had told me so – but this little shop had a little for sale. So yay me, now I officially own some Almadén mercury.

I found the side entrance to the church Iglesia de Santa María de la Estrella, but no other shops open – I wanted to buy some local cheese. Not even the supermarket had anything that I would not find in my local one. I did buy some dinner and snacks though, and a thermally insulated bag because mine is old and is not working that well any more. It helped keep dinner fresh until I reached the hotel and could use the small fridge there. Pity about the cheese though.

Baroque church in Almadén, showing the exterior in and the main altar.

I turned in afterwards to decide what I would do on my way back, and study the routes.

18th July 2025: In the University of Saragossa {Dinosaur Eggs Loarre & Zaragoza, July 2025}

I woke up and for the first time in days I put on “person clothes” (for the city) instead of “scarecrow clothes” (for hiking & working in the field). Before setting off on the trip, I went to the sales to buy some jeans that would work for sitting on rock or walking through thistles and dry grass, and while they are not particularly nice, they are comfortable and resistant. Saragossa / Zaragoza was still waking up as I headed for breakfast to a bakery close to the hotel, Pannitelli Original Bakery, which I had chosen for two reasons. One, they opened at 7:30, which gave me plenty of time to walk to the university afterwards and two, they had waffles, I had seen them online. I wanted waffles, and a big coffee. I had both (and some orange juice, just because I could).

It turned out that not driving to the university Universidad de Zaragoza had been a great idea. Though it had been my first thought (dump the car there, then walk to my accommodation), I was lucky that in the end I was able to reserve my parking spot with the hotel. It happens that access to campus is restricted to working staff. Students can drive into the parking lot ten times in the school year. And on top of that, there was a farmers’ market for some reason.

Having 20 minutes to walk, I was the first one there, and I sat down in the rock garden of the Earth Sciences building to wait for everyone else for the last day of the course Técnicas de restauración en paleontología a través de la preparación de los huevos de dinosaurio de Loarre: Palaeontological Restoration Techniques through the preparation of Loarre dinosaur eggs. By 9:00, when class was to start, I was the only one besides the teachers who had managed to arrive. Everyone else had either got lost, left Loarre late, or was taking forever trying to park. So yay me being lucky for once (and for the 20 € which the hotel parking cost for the whole stay).

The first chunk of the morning was a tour through the Rock and Hard Material Preparations, 3D Printing and Scanning Service (Servicio de preparación de rocas y materiales duros, impresión y escaneado en 3D) in the university. They have two main lines of work. One is to make thin translucent sections out of specimens so they can be studied under the microscope, and the other is digitalising and making 3D models and copies of items so they can be lent or studied through a computer. The inner works of the department were explained by Raquel Moya Costa, who not only described in detail all her complex machinery, she also gave each of us a 3D printed T-Rex charm from the Dino Run Game!

We then moved onto the Petrology lab to look at thin sections on the transmitted-light microscopes – preparations of a sauropod eggshell, a crocodilian eggshell and an iguanodon eggshell. There were other preparations we could snoop around if we promised not to take pictures and publish them. We also got to play with the 3D copy of one of the first eggs recovered from Loarre. Much less heavy than the real thing, for sure.

Microscope used in geological studies

Microscope preparations and how they look under the microscope. There are three egg specimens: one from Loarre (sauropod), a crocodile and an iguanodon, The crocodile is the thinnest, and the sauropod is the brightest and more complex

Then a bit of chaos ensued as we got distracted by the shiny exhibits of the Palaeontology department, and a couple of post-docs offered to show us their lab and what they were working on. Having finished all the activities of the course, the coordinators had organised an extra visit to the Natural Science Museum Museo de Ciencias Naturales de la Universidad de Zaragoza (which might have actually been my fault as I asked how come that would not happen, considering that most of the region’s fossils are officially deposited there). A few people left first, but some of us got delayed looking at the lab specimens, and then we had to hurry to the museum…

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: Exhibits in the Geological science building. Replicas of dinosaurs and invertebrate fossils

Once we were at the site of the Museo de Ciencias Naturales, we were taken on an express visit of the palaeontology ward by Ester Díaz Berenguer, curator of the collections. The museum is located in one of the historical buildings of the Zaragoza campus. Designed by Ricardo Magdalena in 1886, it was erected with academicist criteria, in brick, with large windows and striking symmetry. It opened in 1893, and during the 20th century, it served as Faculty of Medicine. When the university moved to the newer campus, the building was refurbished as cultural spot and seat of the government body. The basement was turned into the exhibition site of the Science Museum, which has three main areas – palaeontology, natural science, and mineralogy.

The palaeontology ward of the museum comprises nine rooms. The first one is an introduction to the science and the concept of fossilisation, and the following ones run through the Earth’s history, from the Precambrian to the Quaternary. The Precambrian is the earliest “calculated” period in geological time, and spanned from 4567 to 539 million years ago (give or take). Though we cannot pinpoint when life actually originated, it was already there when this “supereon” gave way to the Cambrian. During the Ediacara Period, at the end of the last Eon of the Precambrian, the Proterozoic, the earliest complex multicellular organisms that we know about thrived in a state that has been called “The Garden of Ediacara”. The word “garden” tries to evoke the idea of the “Garden of Eden” as there was no active predation and life just… existed.

The next rooms focus on the “Cambrian Explosion”, a term used to refer to the point in geological time when living things took over the planet. At first, this brand-new life was comprised of ocean-dwelling invertebrates. In the room there are impressive trilobites from the Murero Palaeontological Site, which I had actually planned to drive through on my way back. But not only animals appeared, so did plants – organisms which produced a new toxic gas that would change the planet forever: oxygen. To the side of this area there is a curtained room, the “aquarium”.

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: Two trilobites from the same species showing slightly different shapes, thought to be a male and a female

Here you can see the cranium of Carolowilhelmina geognostica, a fish which lived around 392 million years ago, during the Devonian period. It was a placoderm, a group whose main characteristics were being covered in armoured plates, and having developed an actual jaw and true teeth. The specimen is not just the holotype, it is the only known fossil of the animal. The cranium alone measures almost 45 cm, and by its shape, palaeontologist speculate that the animal was probably a predator of invertebrates. A first fragment of the fossil was found in Southern Aragón in 1971 by palaeontologist Peter Carls. Carls kept returning to the site to search for the rest of it every summer, until in 1986 he unearthed the rest of the skull, which was finally extracted in 1993.

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: skull of an ancient armoured fish

The following room is devoted to the Mesozoic, and it hosts another of the museum treasures, the skull of the holotype and only specimen of Maledictosuchus riclaensis, the “Cursed Crocodile from Ricla”. This crocodilian lived in saltwater around 163 million years ago, during the Middle Jurassic. It had flippers instead of legs, and probably ate fish. The fossil was found during the construction of the high-speed railway between Madrid and Barcelona in 1994. It earned the name of “cursed crocodile” because despite the fact that it was the oldest crocodilian found in Spain, exceptionally preserved on top of that, it took 20 years until someone could tackle its study and description. The “curse-breaking” researcher was Jara Parrilla Bel, one of the post-docs who shown us her lab work at the university.

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: Skull of an ancient crocodile

Of course, the “stars” of any palaeontological exhibit are dinosaurs. The museum hosts several iconic pieces, amongst them replica of the feet of the first dinosaur ever described by researchers belonging to the local university Universidad de Zaragoza, Tastavinsaurus sanzi (a titanosaur), a whole specimen of the Mongolian Psittacosaurus (a small ceratopsian), and a good part of an Arenysaurus ardevoli, a hadrosaur which lived in the Pyrenees area around 66 million years ago, during the early Maastrichtian; the rest of the specimen is located in Arén, where it was located, and which is one of the museum’s satellite centres, just like Loarre’s museum-lab. In the same room there were trunks of fossilised wood that could be touched, and a skull of the extinct crocodile Allodaposuchus subjuniperus.

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: Skeleton of a small Mongolian dinosaur

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: some bones from a hadrosaur, including the tale, hind hip and some ribs

After a small room with an audiovisual representing the impact of the meteorite and the K-Pg mass extinction (which we skipped due to time constraints), there was an exhibit of the spread of mammals. The specimen of honour in this exhibit is the ancient sirenian Sobrarbesiren cardieli (holotype, and the topic of our guide’s thesis). This species lived during the Eocene, around 45 million years ago. Sirenians (manatees and dugongs) are a type of marine mammals whose closest relatives are elephants – and not other ocean-dwelling mammals. After life spread through land, a number of mammals went back to water, and it looks like this species is a snapshot on the readaptation process: it was already completely aquatic, but it still had four functional limbs. Its hind legs had started reducing and its tail was getting flat. It was a strict herbivore, eating sea grass, but less efficiently than current sirenians.

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: Skull of an ancient sirenian.

There was also an impressive aquatic turtle of the genus Chelonia, several remains of Gomphotherium angustidens, an elephantimorph, and smaller pieces including crabs, sea urchins, gastropods and even insects. Several of these specimens are holotypes, too.

The final area was almost contemporary considering when we had started. It hosted remains of cave bears (Ursus spelaeus, 40,000 years ago), the skull of an aurochs (Bos primigenius, a species that actually lived until the 1600s), evidence ancient hyena nests, micro-invertebrate bones, mammoth defences… These animals coexisted with human beings, whose skulls comprise the ending room before moving onto the “nature collections” which we did not visit because a) the course had after all to do with palaeontology and b) it was closing time – quite literally, museum security was turning off lights behind us since the museum shut down at 14:00.

Zaragoza Natural Science Museum: Skull of an ancient bull, curved mammoth defence, a pile of bones from a hyena nest and several human-ancestor skulls

We had a mini closure “ceremony” in the hall of the building – coordinators Miguel Moreno Azanza and Lope Ezquerro Ruiz thanked us for attending, we clapped and thanked them back. Then we all went off to have a drink, a snack and a chat. A bit after 16:00, when most students had already left and the professors had been joined by university staff, I took my leave.

Palaeontological Restoration Techniques through the preparation of Loarre dinosaur eggs

Hopping from shadow to shadow to avoid the sun and the heat as much as I could, I headed downtown. On my way I made an exception regarding the walking in the shade when I found the only remaining gate of the original Medieval Wall, today called Puerta del Carmen. Calling it “original” is a bit of a stretch though. While it is in the same place as the first gate, it actually dates from the early 1790s, and it follows Neoclassical patterns.

I also stopped at Starbucks for a Vanilla Frappuccino – I’m on a bit of a matcha remorse trip due to the alleged shortage, so I’ve reverted to my old drink of choice. With a temperature of around 38 ºC, I reached the most important square in town, Plaza de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, where the namesake basilica is. I kid you not, what was running through my head was “I’ve got a 0.5 zoom on my phone now, I’ll be able to take a nice picture of the whole building with its towers…”. Only to find said towers covered in scaffolding. I was able to take the picture, but it could have been nicer. I entered the Cathedral-Basilica of Our Lady of the Pillar Catedral-Basílica de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, a Baroque / Neomudejar catholic temple which is considered the first-ever church dedicated to the Virgin Mary. I sat at the chapel for a little bit, but when I was ready to have a walk around the church, there was a call for mass, so I did not do it out of respect.

Chapel of Our Lady of the Pillar, a baroque chapel for the workshop of a small figurine of the Virgin Mary carrying a child and standing on a pillar

Instead, I strolled to the former exchange building Lonja de Zaragoza, which has been turned into a free exhibition centre. The building is Renaissance with a touch of Neomudejar, and it is considered the most important civil architecture construction erected in the whole area of Aragón during the 16th century.

I had read that there was an exhibition on Asian culture called Tesoros. Colecciones de arte asiático del Museo de Zaragoza – Treasures: Asian art collections from the Zaragoza Museum. At the moment, the Zaragoza Museum is closed and has loaned a few of its artifacts to be displayed elsewhere. This one exhibition displays items that were originally part of personal collections and were donated to the museum. The Colección Federico Torralba, comprises religious items and art pieces from China and items from Japan. The Colección Víctor Pasamar Gracia and Colección Miguel Ángel Gutierrez Pascual have woodblock prints – landscapes, noh [能], kabuki [歌舞伎], even modern ones. The. Finally, the Colección Kotoge displays lacquered tea bowls (chawan [茶碗]). There are also modern calligraphies, paintings, and the compulsory samurai armour. The regional government has undertaken buying artefacts to engross the Asian collections. Though they looked a bit out of place in the historical building, the items were fantastic – and you could even make your very own “woodblock print” at the end.

Zaragoza exchange ceiling, decorated with architectural flower-like patterns

Though the exhibition was the reason I had wanted to go downtown, after I left the (nicely air-conditioned) Lonja, I still had some time to do stuff. I wandered back into the cathedral for a bit – between the 17:00 mass and the 18:00 mass, and left before the second one started.

I continued towards the Roman Walls Murallas Romanas de Zaragoza, which sadly have had to be fenced off because people have no respect (I vividly remember a mum letting her toddlers to climb all over them one time I visited). At the end of that square stands the marketplace Mercado Central de Zaragoza, a wrought iron architecture building designed in 1895 by Félix Navarro Pérez. Being a Friday evening, in the middle of summer, many of the stands were closed, so it was not crowded.

Zaragoza Roman ruins

Iron and glass architecture market

I continued towards the Fire and Fireforce Museum Museo del Fuego y de los Bomberos, where a nice gentleman wanted to give me a guided visit which I declined. Honestly, I just wanted to look at the old fire trucks (and actually, support any initiative by firefighters if it helps fund firefighting). It is a little quaint museum located in part of a former convent, the other half is an actual fire station. The exhibition covers documentation of historical Zaragoza fires, firefighting equipment, a collection of helmets, miniatures, and quite an impressive collection of vehicles used to fight fire. There were two immersive rooms, one which showed damage to a house and another about forest fires. I really enjoyed it, though I only had a quick visit – they closed in an hour, and I was the only guest along a family.

Firefighting museum: collection of vintage vehicles in a brick cloister

On my way back towards the hotel I walked by CaixaForum Zaragoza, where they were running the Patagonian dinosaurs Dinosaurios de la Patagonia. Seeing the Patagotitan on the balcony made me want to go in, but I had already seen it, and I knew I was just on a palaeontology high.

Patagotitan installation on a balcony

I headed back to the hotel – crossing a couple of quite unsavoury neighbourhoods – and bought some fast food dinner again. It was stupidly early, but after eating I could have a shower and relax on the bed while I studied the route for the following day. Furthermore, it was so hot I really needed that shower, and I knew I would not be going anywhere after taking it. Thus, I showered and plopped down to watch the Natural Science Museum’s YouTube Channel after I had learnt how to get out of the city.

23rd May 2025: Valletta {Malta, May 2025}

Around 5:00, I was woken up by a group of guys singing, and I thought they were outside, drunk and going back to their hotel. It turns out that Saint Julian’s | San Ġiljan is a party area. I had absolutely no idea – I would like to chalk that up to the improvisation again, but to be honest the concept of a “party town” is one that had not even crossed my mind till then. I did not sleep much afterwards, so a bit after 7:30, when breakfast opened, I headed there, then I took the bus towards the capital, Valletta.

My first stop was a compulsory one – the City Gate | Bieb il-Belt which I had to cross to walk into the city. The capital of Malta was declared a Unesco World Heritage in 1980 under the name City of Valletta because with 320 monuments in 55 hectares, it is one of the most concentrated historic areas in the world. The city was erected by the Knights Hospitaller around a watch tower that was demolished to create a large defensive fort. After said fort fell during the Great Siege of 1565, the Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller Jean de Valette decided to build a grand fortified city with plans by Francesco Laparelli. Neither Valette nor Laparelli saw the city complete, which happened in the 1570s, when it became the capital. The Gate is the entrance to the fortification itself, separating Valletta from the city of Floriana. Protected by its the walls, Valletta thrived and though 17th the century it became filled with manors and palaces, some of which have now been repurposed as hotels or museums.

One of such buildings is the National Museum of Archaeology, which hosts artefacts from the Neolithic (around 5900 BCE) to the Phoenician period (circa the 6th century CE). On the ground floor they have all the items that have been removed from the Neolithic temples for protection, including some of the carvings from Ħal Tarxien Prehistoric Complex. A tiny clay figuring called The Sleeping Lady captured my attention. It was a lovely detailed little representation from the so called Temple Period of Maltese history (4000 – 2500 BCE), which was recovered from the Ħal Saflieni Hypogeum. There are also headless bodies and bodiless heads found at other temples.

Archaeological Museum Valletta: pieces taken from the Temples in order to protect them: carved rocks, statues (most of them of bodies without heads), trilithons...

Archaeological Museum Valletta: Sleeping lady. A small figurine of a woman sleeping made in clay

I proceeded upstairs, where there is a small exhibit on “cart ruts”, a network of tracks in the rock. The analysis seems to show that they were made by carts with wooden wheels eroding the limestone. However, there are no… traces of whatever pulled on them – no tracks, no trails, nothing but the wheels. There is another room displaying Phoenician civilisation, and one showing some amphorae from a shipwreck off Xlendi Bay in the island of Gozo, at a depth of 110 m. The ship sank in 700 BC, it was discovered in 2007 and it was finally excavated between 2018 and 2021.

The final room I saw hosts a few skulls from the Ħal Saflieni Hypogeum. I might have to return to Malta just to finish exploring all the prehistoric sites – aside from that, there is sea, the food is delicious and when you open the tap, the water is warm. I felt right at home, really. Anyway, some of these skulls are described as “elongated” and for a while there was even a conspiracy theory about them being alien… They are not. The elongation was not artificially created, like in some Mesoamerican cultures. They belonged to a few individuals who had… long heads. Which is a bit anticlimactic, but only a few remains have been recovered from the calculated thousands, so there is very little that can be inferred from whomever was interred in the burial chamber.

Archaeological Museum Valletta: Phoenician pottery, skulls from the Hypogeum, anforae from the shipwreck

There was actually a last-last area, a ball room from the Baroque palace, but that was under construction and I could barely have a bit of a look. Afterwards, I walked towards the St. John’s Co-Cathedral | Kon-Katidral ta’ San Ġwan. The Catholic co-cathedral shares responsibilities with the one in Mdina, and was built between 1573 and 1578 in a Mannerist style. The interior was redecorated in the 17th century in a very Baroque style and lots – and I mean lots – of gold and golden decoration. Downstairs, there is a crypt where some Grand Masters of the Knights Hospitaller are buried. On the main floor, the nave is surrounded by nine chapels, eight of which are dedicated to the different chapters of the Order and their patron Saint, and the last one is dedicated to and one to the Virgin Mary. .

Though you can get tickets online, there is no chance to buy same-day tickets but on site. I queued for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so, before I was scanned for… guns and explosives… then I was allowed in. There were small restoration works being carried out. Not a Baroque person in general, but I have to admit it was impressive. I declined climbing to the dome because the fun views are from across the harbour, not from inside the city itself.

The co-cathedral holds two pieces of art by Caravaggio – The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist and Saint Jerome Writing, both in the chiaroscuro style – with high contrasts of light and dark. Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571 – 1610) was one of the maximum representatives of chiaroscuro, with usually violent and gruesome topics, usually disguised as hagiography.

Baroque interior of the cathedral, with dark walls decorated with frescoes and golden wood

After I exited the cathedral, I headed down a small alley opposite for something that is not a monument but… made me happy anyway. Malta has Costa Coffee – something which, unlike the plugs, I had thought of checking beforehand. I actually had a shop near my hotel. Had I known that, I might have skipped booking breakfast. What I did worked really well though, so no big deal. I managed to balance breakfast and dinner, which made my moving around more convenient, not needing to find a place for lunch. Of course, a medium vanilla latte from Costa does not count…

My next stop was the Grand Master’s Palace | Il-Palazz tal-Granmastru. It was the first building erected by the Knights Hospitaller around 1574, and it is considered the seed of both Valletta and the country of Malta itself. The building was first the residence of the eponymous Grand Master of the Knights of Malta until the 18th century, then the residence of British Governors, the Seat of the Parliament, and it currently houses the Office of the President of Malta. That explains why the security is tight enough you’re not even allowed a bottle of water in.

The building was designed by Gerolamo Cassar. The exterior is Mannerist, severe and simple, but the interior is richly decorated with paintings and frescoes. Some of the rooms have coffered ceilings and tapestries on the walls. There is a huge armoury, organised chronologically, and a throne room, which felt a bit out of place for a republic. The building has two courtyards – the so-called Prince Alfred’s Courtyard has a clock tower which is claimed to date from the 1530s. Oh, and apparently, it’s haunted? I did not feel anything out of the ordinary, not even a temperature drop. That would have been handy.

Grand Master's Palace - clock tower, throne room and corridors decorated with frescoes

After the Palace, I walked down Valletta’s narrow streets and until I reached St Paul’s Pro-Cathedral | Il-Pro-Katridral ta’ San Pawl, the Anglican “temporary” cathedral, established in 1839 – and still in use. It is a Neoclassical building with a very characteristic steeple and an organ imported from England.

Interior of the cathedral, with corinth columns and a small altar.

I then took a walk towards what is called Lower Valletta, at sea level. I walked around Elmo Bay and reached Fort Saint Elmo | Forti Sant’Iermu. The origin of the star-shaped fort was defence against the Ottoman Empire (which would eventually yield to Türkiye), and it is a large structure in limestone. It was key in the 1565 Great Siege of Malta and the Maltese victory. However, the interior is a War Museum, and I did not quite feel like that. Instead, I walked around and went down to the beach to enjoy the waves and the views of Fort Ricasoli | Forti Rikażli across the bay.

Fort St Elmo - a sea-side fortification made in golden limestone

Later, I found the Lower Barrakka Gardens | Il-Barrakka t’Isfel, a green terraced with trees, monuments and fountains, along with a nice view. I was heading upwards again, towards Upper Valletta.

Lower Barrrakka Park: Mediterranean plants, a temple-like building and a pond.

I thought I ought to get some food as I passed by the Valletta Food Market | Is-Suq Tal-Belt, but I did not find anything I fancied. I bought a soda in a small market in the basement, where I was charged 10 cents for the “reusable cap” (fair) and 10 extra cents for buying a chilled drink (LOL). The soda gave me calories and hydration enough to continue on, so I found the Upper Barrakka Gardens | Il-Barrakka ta’ Fuq. Aside from a nice mixture of architecture and nature, the gardens are linked to the Saluting Battery | Batterija tas-Salut, which stands under the terraced area of the gardens as part of the St. Peter & Paul Bastion. It was constructed in the 16th century for ceremonial gun salutes. Today it hosts cannon replicas that are fired at 12:00 and 16:00. I was there for the Evening Salute, with the firm plan to watch from above.

Then a nice gentleman in a nifty uniform said something akin to “for just 3 € be the closest to a firing cannon you can be in Europe” and there went all my restraint. I mean it was only 3 € and being the closest to a firing cannon you can be in Europe. Yes, I’m easily distracted. Yes, I paid the 3 €.

Entry included a brief explanation, including what a “smooth-bore breech loading 32-pounder gun” is: basically, a cannon designed in the 1880s with a smooth barrel, which can be loaded from the breech end of the barrel and… can fire shells weighing 55 pounds (24.95 kg). They were made modifying guns that could only shoot 32-pound shells though. The soldier-actor explained about cannons, how to load them, what the process was and the security protocols. Oh, and that the weapons were anything but accurate in real life. That was cooler than I thought it would be, so I was happy I had decided to get the ticket.

Saluting Battery: cannons and still of the shooting


 
When the demonstration was over, I left the gardens. I walked past the Tower Port and The Lascaris War Rooms, another war museum, on my way to the Herbert Ganado Gardens and the Kalkara Steps. Doing this, I temporarily left Valletta and stepped into Floriana, then walked back into Valletta until I found The Valletta Waterfront, a group harbour warehouses from the 1700s which have been converted into restaurants, bars and souvenir shops. Since it was that silly time when the restaurants have closed after lunch time and are not yet open for dinner, it was almost empty, so it was nice to see all the buildings.

Valletta Waterfront: a line of neoclassical warehouses and buildings turned into shops and eateries

I had two options then – one was walking back towards the city centre to see two churches that I had missed, or head back to Saint Julian’s | San Ġiljan. Since I was quite closer to the bus station than to any of the churches (Shrine of Our Lady of Mount Carmel | Bażilika Santwarju tal-Madonna tal-Karmnu and The Collegiate Matrix Parish church of Saint Paul | Il-Knisja Kolleġġjata Arċipretali u Matriċi ta’ San Pawl), I decided to return.

Once in Saint Julian’s | San Ġiljan, I had the largest pizza I’ve ever had the pleasure or disgrace to be served. I mean, good thing that I ordered a plain Margherita (in all honesty, it was the house special with extra cheese) because I would not have been able to eat anything with toppings, even after having basically skipped lunch. I somehow made space for ice-cream afterwards…

Huge Margheritta pizza

4th January 2025: Bye Bye, Murderbird. MARPA, Alcalá de Henares (Spain)

While it was great to have the Concavenator fossil (a.k.a. Murderbird in my headspace) in the Dragon Hunters exhibit in Alcalá de Henares close enough to visit at will, the time had come to see it move on. Just in case there was any information I was missing, I decided to book a guided visit to the exhibit. As it was scheduled for 12:00, I decided to look for something to do beforehand, and I found guided visits to the monastery Monasterio de San Bernardo at 10:00. I had seen the building before, as it stands next to the MARPA, I just had never given it much of a thought.

The monastery was established under the patronage of Cardinal Bernardo Sandoval y Rojas around 1620. He bought land cheap because it was near the Moorish quarter. The church was erected in brick with decoration in stone on the outside. The inside has an elliptical dome, and it was heavily damaged in a fire during the Civil War, so it had to be restored – the work on it was a Rehabilitation prize in 2019. Most of the decoration of the church was lost and today walls and roof are just white and gold. The building is attributed to architect Juan Gómez de Mora.

There is a free-standing ciborium in gold, with a number of sculptures of Saints instead of an altarpiece. Behind the altar and ciborium, there are a number of paintings – they were created by Italian artist Angelo Nardi. Nardi was born in the late 16th century, and studied in Venice before moving to Madrid, where he became a Court Painter. His style evolved from late-Renaissance (mannerism) to Baroque, and he is known for his expressive faces. He was friends with Velázquez, and famous for being quite kind, though his style eventually fell out of grace. He painted most of the pictures in the church, although some of them are now out of order as they were moved during the Civil War.

The visit was interesting albeit a little underwhelming. It felt a bit weird to be the only visitor and having the whole thing explained to me – that has only happened once before, in Recópolis. However, that was epic, because I ended up getting the whole archaeological place for myself. The monastery was more of a serious experience – and it did not rain on me. But still it felt… colder. And like being in an exam, the guide kept asking me questions about history, architecture and hagiography.

Monastery of San Bernardo in Alcalá de Henares

I had a bit of time before my following visit, so I decided to run to the Sala Museográfica de la BRIPAC, a tiny museum about the history of the Army’s Parachuting Brigade. The Brigade was created in 1953, and the parachuters participated in combat for the first time in 1957. In its origin, it was established in Alcalá, so there is a historical connection there. The hall hosts uniforms, flags, medals, and reports about the peace missions in the 1990s. I am not much of a fan of Armed Forces museums, but today the BRIPAC is considered a peace corps. The museum opened in February 2023, on the 70th anniversary of the foundation.

BRIPAC exhibit

I still had a bit of time, so I dropped by Plaza Cervantes, which was full with Christmas lights and shoppers at the small market. There were food stalls, a small bookshop, some rock shops… Nothing really caught my eye though.

Plaza de Cervantes Christmas

I finally headed back towards the Archaeology and Palaeontology museum MARPA Museo Arqueológico y Paleontológico de la Comunidad de Madrid. It was one of the last chances to see the exhibition on the history of palaeontology “Dragon Hunters” Cazadores de Dragones with a guided visit, and I figured out that maybe I could learn anything new – despite the fact that I’ve been there a few times and bought the book. We had a nice fun guide who relied a lot on asking questions to her audience. Apparently I was the only one with… some knowledge of… anything she asked – what’s with guides in Alcalá de Henares trying to have you do their job? I felt a bit sorry for her so I answered her questions – with a higher success rate than the ones from the Monastery, to be honest. She did not impress me with the depth of her knowledge, to be honest. She actually looked at me a bit panicky when I asked her t confirm that the T-Rex replica was a cast of the famous Stan.

Cazadores de Dragones entry in the cloister of the MARPA

I stayed back for a bit longer after the visit ended. I’ve ranted on and on about the Concavenator before, both the fossil slab and the actual-size reconstruction. I just loved having both so at hand. When I was young, the scientific community came to the conclusion that “birds descend from dinosaurs” but today it is actually believed that birds are actual dinosaurs. And since the poor beast has such a ridiculous name, I’ve just been calling it “Murderbird” or “Murderchicken”, for kicks and giggles.

There were these two little kids who kept grilling their dad about the skeletons, and the poor man was a bit overwhelmed. I decided to give him a hand with the questions and explained a little. I thought that was it, but the smallest child pointed at the Concavenator and blurted out “can you tell us more things about that one??” He was so eager that I just took the family to see it and told them a few things further. The family was on their merry way in five minutes – four-year-olds only have so much attention span. The kids were happy, the parents were relieved and I got to geek out about dinosaurs with appreciative public. I think the interaction was an all-around win.

Murderbirds: T-rex and Concavenator

At first I had thought that I would be staying in Alcalá for an exotic lunch, but I was not really feeling up to it. With great sadness, I said goodbye to the Concavenator and moved on to drive home.

31st December 2024: A clumsy morning yielded to an unbelievable evening {Vienna, Silvesterkonzert 2024}

When we walked out of the rooms to go down and have breakfast, my parent’s alarmed face made me worried. They informed my sibling and myself that “it had snowed”. That was spooky for a second – until I ran to the window and saw that the “snow” was just a very thin layer of scattered white powder. It was safe to go out, even with my senior parents. We had breakfast and we got ready to go out.

Snow in Vienna

At some point, my family “caught” that I like Natural History museums, so they really, really thought I wanted to go to Vienna’s Natural History Museum – Naturhistorisches Museum Wien, and just wouldn’t listen to “No need, I’ve been there already, Their reasoning is that I had mentioned it before, which I actually had, to inform them that the Venus von Willendorf was there. That is where we ended up, and I was happy to oblige – the museum has rocks, meteorites, fossils and dinosaur animatronics. All right up my alley.

The museum’s oldest collection 250 years. In 1750, the Holy Roman Emperor Francis I bought what at the time was the largest collection of natural history objects at the time – around 30,000 objects. That same decade, the Emperor founded the Schönbrunn Zoo and the botanical garden, and he ordered the first scientific exhibition to be held. Upon his death, the collections were donated to the state, and the first museum according to the Enlightenment principles was founded – and soon expanded.

The museum building was also commissioned by the Emperor. It was designed by architects Gottfried Semper and Carl Hasenauer, with an identical exterior to the nearby Museum of Fine Arts. Works began in 1871, and the institution officially opened in 1889. Though it was indeed originally designed as a museum, it feels more like a repurposed palace, with decorated ceilings and monumental staircases. It has 39 halls with almost 9,000 square metres of exhibits, still keeping the 19th century outline. We just did halls 1 to 13: mineralogy, petrography, meteorites, palaeontology and prehistory galleries, including the Venus von Willendorf. The 11-centimetre figurine was made in limestone around back to 30,000 years ago. It is a nude woman of large proportions, and even if she does not have a face, she is mostly anatomically correct and has plaited hair.

My family was fascinated by the collections, and I guess I felt a teeny bit smug about that – considering how much fun they poke at me because natural history museums are very high on my priorities when I visit a new place (see: my first time in Brussels).

Natural History Museum Vienna

Natural History Museum Vienna

We left the museum after a couple of hours, around noon. We did not stay at the Silvestermarket at the square, but headed out towards the Imperial Butterfly House Schmetterlinghaus. It comprises half of an Art Nouveau greenhouse turned tropical botanical garden and butterfly zoo of sorts. I really love the iron-and-glass architecture of the building – and I would have loved to have had lunch in the brasserie that fills the other half of the greenhouse. The building was designed by architect Friedrich Ohmann and erected in 1901 as part of the Hofburg Palace and is, next to the Burggarten palace.

Most of the butterflies we saw, if not all, were forest giant owls Caligo eurilochus, very large butterflies originating from the Americas – they can live from Mexico to the Amazon basin. They have marks like big eyes in its back wings (hence the commmon name), and the inner wings are blue. They are pretty, and they seem to like fruit, as they gathered around the feeders to snack on it. The sad part is that they only live around 24 days.

Schmetterlinghaus

We then headed to the restaurant Centimeter, near the Rathouse (town hall) to have lunch. It is a place that has a lot of things measured – you can order sausages by the metre. I was somehow was not feeling hungry, so I decided to get Gebackener Emmentaler mit Sauce Tartare und Preiselbeeren, breaded and baked Emmental cheese with tartare sauce and cranberries. After lunch, we expected the Silvestermarket next to the Rathaus to be open, as it was one of the places to be for New Year’s Eve. We were wrong! That was a bummer, because in hindsight we could have cancelled the reservation and just stayed at the market in front of the Natural History Museum. That was a bummer, but at least we were warm.

Gebackener Emmentaler

We headed back towards the hotel, and we stopped by the supermarket next door to buy something for dinner. I grabbed myself some pre-emptive sushi, because I was pretty sure that my family was not going to find what they wanted – basically stuff like they would get at home. After half an hour of going back and forth, they decided to settle down with sandwiches and more sushi. We also picked up some chocolate thingies that would end up being more coconut than anything else. Not that I have anything against coconut, but I do not appreciate it replacing chocolate unannounced.

We took the groceries to the hotel, and had a bit of downtime before got ready for the main event. During that time, I went on the online airline webpage to make sure that the travel agent at El Corte Inglés had checked us in. The check-in was done, but someone had made a typo on my parent’s email address so we had not received the boarding passes. I retrieved them and downloaded onto my phone to distribute later.

A bit past 18:00, we left for the Wiener Musikverein, the Viennese Music Association, home to the Vienna Philharmonic Wiener Philharmoniker, where we would attend the 2024 Silvesterkonzert. It was a bit strange to head to such an event using the underground, but that was the most efficient means of transport, to be honest. We ran into the Spanish lady and her husband again – and that was great because that way we could take pictures of each other without having to get a stranger to do so.

Vienna Musikverein

The Musikverein was designed to resemble an Ancient Greek Temple in a Neoclassical style, following plans by architect Theophil Hansen. The building was inaugurated in 1870, and it has a small decorated entrance, very underwhelming staircases, a small chamber music hall, and the main music hall, the Großer Musikvereinssaal or Golden Hall. Walking in there was… surreal. It’s a hall I’d seen so often on TV, and it actually felt… I don’t know, a bit… pale. Less bright than on the screen. Maybe it was that the flowers were white and pink, so they did not pop. And it’s not like I know anything about flowers, anyway. I was just happy they were artificial enough not to trigger my allergies, it would have been awkward to sneeze all throughout the concert…

Vienna Musikverein Golden Hall

Though the “New Year Concert” is the one that everyone knows, there are actually three concerts with the same set list – the Preview Voraufführung on the 30th, the Silvesterconcert Silvesterkonzert on the 31st, and the New Year’s Concert Neujahrskonzert on the 1st. I honestly would have thought that it would be full of wealthy people and they would be all cool as cucumbers, but it turns out, a whole bunch of us were just excited noobs taking pictures of every and anything. My family’s seats were on the second floor balcony. I just couldn’t believe everything that was going around around me, nor where I was. I bought the programme, because I really wanted something physical from the soirée, aside from the ticket.

The Vienna Philharmonic was founded in 1842. It is formed by the best musicians from the Vienna State Opera. It is actually run by the musicians themselves. Every year, a conductor is chosen to direct the concerts, and for the 2025, it was Italian Riccardo Muti. Maestro Muti was born in Naples in 1941, and studied in the Classical Lyceum. He proceeded to move onto studying Piano, then Composition and Conducting. He began his career in 1968 as the music director of the opera festival Maggio Musical Fiorentino. He conducted the New Year’s Concert in Vienna in 1993, 1997, 2000, 2004 and 2018 before this year. In 2011, the Philharmonic awarded him Honorary Membership. He is also a bit of a troll.

The concert had two parts, including the encore:

First part:
  1. Johann Strauß I. Freiheits-Marsch, op. 226 – Freedom March
  2. Josef Strauß Dorfschwalben aus Österreich. Walzer, op. 164 – Village Swallows from Austria, waltz
  3. Johann Strauß II. Demolirer-Polka. Polka française, op. 269 – Demolition Men’s Polka, French Polka
  4. Johann Strauß II. Lagunen-Walzer, op. 411 – Of friends, Waltz
  5. Eduard Strauß Luftig und duftig. Polka schnell, op. 206 – Airy and fragrant, fast Polka

Second part:
  6. Johann Strauß II. Ouvertüre zur Operette “Der Zigeunerbaron” – Overture to the operetta “The Gypsy Baron”
  7. Johann Strauß II. Accelerationen. Walzer, op. 234 – The Acceleration, Waltz
  8. Josef Hellmesberger (Sohn) Fidele Brüder. Marsch aus der Operette “Das Veilchenmädl” – Fidel brothers. March from the operetta “The violet girl”
  9. Constanze Geiger Ferdinandus-Walzer, op. 10 [Arr. W. Dörner] Ferdinandus, Waltz
  10. Johann Strauß II. Entweder – oder! Polka schnell, op. 403 – Either … or! Fast Polka
  11. Josef Strauß Transactionen. Walzer, op. 184 – Transaction, Waltz
  12. Johann Strauß II. Annen-Polka, op. 117 – Polka Ana
  13. Johann Strauß II. Tritsch-Tratsch. Polka schnell, op. 214 – Chit-chat, fast Polka
  14. Johann Strauß II. Wein, Weib und Gesang. Walzer, op. 333 – Wine, Woman, and Song

Encore:
  15. Johann Strauß II. Die Bajadere, Polka schnell, Op. 351 – The Bajadere, fast Polka
  16. Neujahrsgruß (New Year’s Address)
  17. Johann Strauß II. An der schönen blauen Donau, Walzer, Op. 314 – The Blue Danube
  18. Johann Strauß I. Radetzky-Marsch, Op. 228 – Radetzky March

Vienna Silvesterkonzert 2024

Honestly, what can I say? It’s nothing and everything like what you watch on TV. The music was fantastic, but somehow it felt like the conductor did not do much, the orchestra did whatever they wanted, not in a bad way. They knew exactly what to do and just did it. I know next to nothing regarding classical music, but they made it feel absolutely effortless. I am not sure how much work they do on their own and how much they do with the conductor, but I can tell had Riccardo Muti a blast. At some point, when he was coming in and out, he knocked over some of the viola or bassoon’s music sheets all over – he was very apologetic about it. Also, although neither photographs or videos are not permitted (mine are totally… sneaky, you see), one of the ladies in the first row was shamelessly filming, and he winked and waved at her. Furthermore, he would just… jump during some of the polkas, which is a feat considering the man is 83 years old.

The concert always ends with Strauß’s Radetzky-Marsch, and the public is invited to clap along. Muti completely had the concertgoers in his pocket, controlling them (us) with a finger and a look. It was amazing to watch. All in all, he was absolutely… not careless but carefree. It was great to see, somewhat magical in a way.

Vienna Silvesterkonzert 2024

The concert felt much much shorter than the two and a half hours it lasted. We went down to the first floor for pictures during the intermission, and we were not the only ones. However, I think we kind of… snuck past the intern or something, not sure we were supposed to be allowed on that floor. People were having champagne but I only cared about seeing everything. I might be a bit… weird. I make no apologies. I really loved the experience. They say it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but to be honest, I would just try the lottery every year from now on. I mean, I now have the right clothing for it…

After the concert, we went back to the hotel where we had our dinner. To be completely fair, there was a part of me that would have totally wanted to go out to watch fireworks and Vienna’s way to celebrate the New Year – and then be an absolute wuss, freeze my butt off and need to come back to the hotel. But the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, and since I did not get to see it… It must have been the most interesting thing ever! It’s okay though, because I got to see the concert, and it was already my once in a lifetime most interesting thing ever… But it took me hours to get to sleep, so maybe I could have explored some, because in the end I’m greedy and I want it all.

30th December 2024: A planned and packed day {Vienna, Silvesterkonzert 2024}

It was a crisp morning in Vienna when we got up. We went down for breakfast and it was not particularly well stocked. The coffee was… weak, so I decided to mix a cappuccino and a black coffee to get me the energy I needed for the day. I tried some local cake, but I did not enjoy it, so I decided to stick to bread and croissants. Thankfully, I did run into the lady from the day before, and her husband, during breakfast, and told her about our plans – that way at least someone in the group would know not to wait for us and we would not delay anyone. Apparently, we were not the only ones who had made their own plans either, as the excursion had been marketed as “optional” and yet it seemed to be “a given”. Even better, we came across the driver from the day before (despite him saying he had nothing to do with the trip), and we could tell him that we were not coming, either. As we stepped out, it was freezing – literally below zero – but sunny during the whole day.

We took the underground at Zieglergasse and headed towards the city centre. I asked my parent to use their phone for GPS and maps in order to keep my battery for as long as I could so I could be taking pictures throughout the day, so they would be guiding. Our first stop was the Hofburg – the former imperial palace – and the Sisi Museum. Empress Elisabeth of Austria (1837 – 1898) was the wife of Emperor Franz Josef I of Austria. She married the Emperor when she was just 16 years old, and was stifled by court life. She spent most of her time travelling and avoiding royal duties. Her perceived eccentricity – today we would call it depression – and assassination in 1898 helped create an image of a romantic heroine in the media that has reached today, especially through actor Romy Shenider’s portrayal in the 1950s.

Hofburg

The museum tells about her life by showing objects, portraits and reproductions of her clothes. Then, you step into the former imperial apartments, which have been refurbished with furniture from the 19th century to make them look real. The audioguide was… corny to say the least, and I kind of skipped most of it because I got bored.

Sisi Museum and Royal Apartments Vienna

I proposed the church of Saint Michael first, and then the National Library. However, my parent had been intrigued by the church that stood at the exit of the underground. Thus, we headed there. The Wiener Minoritenkirche, Friars Minor Conventual Church, is officially the Italian National Church of Mary of the Snows Italienische Nationalkirche Maria Schnee. The church was erected between 1276 and 1350, and it was one of the first gothic churches in Vienna, following a French pattern. There were many subsequent reforms, including rebuilding the bell tower and the spire again and again – today the bell tower is flat and the spire is gone. The interior altar is Neogothic, by Ferdinand Hohenberg. Since it was still around Christmas time there were Nativities and Christmas trees.

Wiener Minoritenkirche

Afterwards, we headed towards St. Michael’s Church Pfarre St. Michael. It started as a late Romanesque or early Gothic building, maybe in 1221. The following two centuries saw Gothic annexes added. The crypt was built in the 16th century. The organ was built in 1714. The Rococo high altar was sculpted by Karl Georg Merville, and it represents the Fall of the Angels after the War in Heaven, when Lucifer was banished; underneath, there is a Byzantine Virgin Mary from the Cretan school. The outer façade was rebuilt in a classicist style in 1791. Construction officially finished in 1792. The crypt is accessible in a guided tour, but considering it has about 4,000 bodies, some of them mummified and on display, I think I’m happy we did not take it.

Michaelkirche Vienna

I proposed going to the Library again, because it was cold and there would be toilets there. My parent took over guiding with their phone, and my sibling and I got distracted as we passed by the Stallburg, where we caught a glimpse of the Lipizzan horses chilling out.

Instead of reaching the Library, my parent decided that we wanted to see the Augustinian church Augustinerkirche, a mix of 14th century Gothic and 18th century Neogothic. The original church was engulfed by the Hofburg as it expanded, and in 1634 it became the official imperial church. May Habsburg weddings were officiated there, and a chapel to the side, called the Herzgruft (Heart Crypt), contains the hearts of the members of the dynasty, from Ferdinand IV in 1654 to Archduke Franz Karl in 1878.

Augustinerkirche

I did not get to go to the Library, but we walked past the Hotel Astoria, which opened in 1912. it was built in the a late Art nouveau style known as fin de siècle (end-of-century). At the time it opened, the hotel was the latest, with electricity, bathrooms and all!

We reached the pedestrian / shopping street Kärntner Straße, the neuralgic centre for Vienna shopping. There we… met the card-not-working lady and her husband again, in what would become a funny number of encounters. We also saw the Swarovski shop. We entered it because we thought it would be warm – and hey, it had a toilet, which was handy, considering we had left the hotel over four hours before. Swarovski is an Austrian glass producer, known for its crystal glass, used in jewellery, decoration, watches, accessories. The company was founded in the late 19th century with the idea of “making a diamond for everyone”. Since then, it has produced thousands of items – from Christmas decorations to sculptures to collectible tiny figurines to whole dresses for the Vienna Opera. The place was halfway between a shop and a museum – and we might have spent a bit more than we had planned there, especially considering we were not planning to spend anything.

Swarovski flagshop Vienna

We reached DO & CO Restaurant Stephansplatz, located on the top floor of the post modernist structure Haas House, constructed in 1990. Most of the building is a hotel now. The restaurant has a fun view of the cathedral Domkirche St. Stephan. My parent and I discovered the restaurant because the opening scene of Austrian TV series Kommissar Rex, which ran between 1994 and 2004. It follows the story of German Shepherd Rex, a police dog which is “transferred” to the homicide department after his original handler dies… at the DO & CO terrace. It is such a naïve series, I just love it. Think The A-Team ingenuity with an adorable GSD saving the day every time and stealing sausage rolls as a self-reward. In a later series, Rex would move to Italy, and there is currently a Canadian reboot too…

There were no doggies in DO & CO, but both service and food were superb. They had butter and bread, and small receptacles with different types of salt, and a note on how they should be used. For lunch, I ordered kalbsbutterschnitzel – delicious minced veal butter patties with cream, accompanied with mashed potatoes, fried onion rings and a small leaf salad. For dessert, I had an ice latte that I should not have had, but I saw it pass by and I was smitten. We snuck a number of pictures from the restaurant, too.

DO & CO Vienna

After lunch, we went into St Stephan’s cathedral Domkirche St. Stephan. The building is a mixture of Romanesque and Gothic, and it was initiated around 1137 and completed 1578, and as many as four construction stages can be seen – the first Romanesque towers, the later Romanesque church, the Gothic Choir, and the outer, newest additions. The roof is tiled with as many as 230,000 pieces, one side shows the mosaic of a double-headed eagle, and the other the coat of arms of the city and the country. The bell tower has twelve bells, and the interior hosts as many as 18 altars (plus the ones in chapels). The cathedral was built in limestone, so it looks darker than other churches its size (107 metres long, 70 metres wide and 137 metres high).

The high altar was built in marble by Tobias Pock in the 1640s in the Baroque style. It depicts the stoning of Saint Stephen, church patron and the first Christian martyr. He was stoned to death by the Israelites after a rather inflammatory speech in front of the Sanhedrin, defending Christ’s teaching versus the traditional Jewish ones. According to the Bible, this would have happened a couple of years after Jesus’ death, and before the Roman persecution.

St Stephan’s cathedral

My parents were tired and they decided to head off towards the hotel, while my sibling and myself stayed behind. We wandered around Stephansplatz, Rotenturmstraße, and Kärntner Straße, checking out the Christmas lights and decoration until we reached the Popp & Kretschmer fashion store. They are a luxury women’s clothes firm, which draw tourist crowds during Christmastime to see their huge bow decoration, which makes the whole building look like a present. They call it the Vienna Bow.

Christmas decoration - Vienna Bow

We also looked at the Vienna State Opera Wiener Staatsoper, which was prepared to celebrate the new year, with a neon display saying (in English) “Hello 2025”. It was stupidly cold though, so we might have stayed in an underpass for a few minutes longer than necessary.

Afterwards, we headed towards the Sacher Hotel. The five-star hotel was founded in 1876 by the son of a famous confectioner. When the founder died, his wife, Anna Sacher, became manager. She turned the hotel into one of the most refined in the world, catering exclusively to the aristocracy. This management lead the hotel to bankruptcy, and she had to sell the business to new owners, who restored it to its former glory. The hotel serves “the original Sacher-torte”, a chocolate cake coated with dark chocolate icing, and a thin layer of apricot jam in the middle, served with unsweetened whipped cream. It was reportedly invented by the father of the founder, and the recipe is kept a secret. There are other versions of Sacher-torte, but the hotel is the only one with legal standing to call theirs original.

We had a 17:30 reservation at Café Sacher, in the hotel. Sacher Hotel actually has two cafés. The more modern one faces Kärntner Straße and is called Café Bel Étage. It had a long queue – Christmas is peak season in Vienna, as we were quickly learning – but I had been informed that reservations accessed through a particular door. However, that was not where our reservation was – I swear, I did not see the different name anywhere. The historic Café Sacher had an even longer line, and no special door. I dared ask the doorman at the hotel how to get there, and he gave me a huge grin and said “skip the line, go through the exit”. Boy, that was… awkward. Very, very awkward. I though the people just outside would lynch us!

Staff came to check on us, and since our reservation at the Café Sacher was valid – I made the reservation in July, literally as soon as the spots open – we were shown into one of the small salons. The café has a great offer – Sacher Sweet Treat: a perfect slice of original Sacher-torte with whipped cream, a non-alcoholic hot beverage and a bottle of Römerquelle mineral water for 22.5 € (31.5 € with a glass of the in-house champagne, Original Sacher Cuvée). I ordered mine with sencha senpai, Japanese green tea. I enjoyed the cake more than I had thought I would, and the tea was great. The staff was incredibly nice, too. They must have been used to silly tourists.

Sacher & Sachertorte

We left the Café Sacher and headed towards the Spanish Riding School Spanische Hofreitschule. For my sibling, this was a core-memory event, so they insisted we got really, really good seats for the Gala Performance Galavorführung at 19:00, on the parterreloge – the box at ground level. The Gala performance is the longest exhibition the Riding School has, and it lasts 90 minutes, with a break. The horses were gorgeous, and the riders looked very cold, but everything felt strangely… cold. I think I liked the exhibit in Jerez Riding School better.

The Spanish Riding School, considered the oldest horsemanship school in the world, was established during the Habsburg Monarchy in 1565. It is dedicated to the breed and training of Lipizzan horses. Lipizzaners are a breed of riding horses developed during the Habsburg empire. It derives from Arab, Bavarian, Spanish and Neapolitan breeds. They were selectively bred so most of them are grey with white coats – albeit there is always a bay stallion in the Spanish Riding School. The breed itself might be traced to eight stallions in the late 1700s, and it was developed in Slovenia. The horses are considered so precious that they were evacuated during WWI, and “rescued” by the US army during WWII. “Lipizzan horse breeding traditions” has been considered Unesco Intangible Cultural Heritage since 2022.

Once bred, foaled and fledged, the Lippizaners are trained. This is done at the Spanish Riding school. The traditional horse training methods used by the school can be traced back to Ancient Greece, and like many other things, they re-flourished during the Renaissance period in the 16th century. The goal of Classical training was to prepare horses for warfare as part of the calvary. Horses train for six year after they turn four.

In Vienna, the Lippizaners are housed at the Stallburg, which is technically part of the Hofburg Palace. It is a Renaissance building from around 1560, originally conceived as a residence but that was later converted into the Imperial Stables. The Winter Arena was built in 1735, and has remained unchanged since then – including the chandeliers. The arena is presided by a painted portrait of Emperor Charles VI.

Vienna Riding School - winter Arena

There was something weird in the atmosphere that made it not feel all that… fun. Before every performance, a lady walked to the centre of the arena to introduce the exercises movements in German and English. The performance was pretty though. I tried to sneak a picture or two, but I was unsuccessful – and a bit worried they would kick me out if the venue. There were a total of six different numbers, and the show, including the introductions, was organised as follows:

  1. Alle Gänge und Touren der Hohen Schule – “All Steps and Movements of the High School”: four riders and stallions in individual choreographers, including the one dark stallion in the stable, with classical movements.
  2. Am Langen Zügel “Schools on the Ground: On the Long Rein” – the riders guide the horse from the ground, they are not on top of the horse, with movements such as piaffe and pirouette.
  3. Pas de Deux “Step by Two” – two riders-horses pairs work in tandem, mirroring each other.
  4. Arbeit an der Hand und Schule über der Erde “Working Hand and Airs Above the Ground” – with three main movements: levade, capriole and courbette. Four horses work with their riders on the ground, and two of them with the riders on the saddle, but without stirrups. When horses perform well, they get a sugar treat from the rider.
  5. Am Zügel “Schools on the Ground: Curb Reins” – only one horse and his rider, who only holds two out the four reins in their left hand, and they hold the riding crop upright in their right hand, a commemoration of the military heritage of the horse riding tradition.
  6. Schulquadrille “School Quadrille” (or Das Ballett der weißen Hengste “Ballet of the Eight White Stallions”) – eight horse-rider pairs have to coordinate with each other for a choreography, ending in the Radetzky-Marsch.

When the exhibition came to an end, we tried to go to the toilets. You had to scan your tickets and pay 50 cents. Really. Two hundred quid for the tickets and they charged fifty cents for the toilets, which were filthy on top? A total rip-off.

I got my sibling to the hotel, and then I left again to meet up with my friend D****e and her father Fr***, who were also in Vienna for a few days. They were even staying in a hotel close to ours, so it seemed that we had planned it in advance. We spent a couple of hours in a small eatery – Gschamster Diener – where they introduced me to kaiserschmarrn, fluffy shredded pancakes with raisins, powdered sugar and cinnamon.

Kaiserschmarrn

I eventually had to go back to the hotel and my room. There, I spent an hour trying to find a place to book lunch for the following day. After deciding not to plan anything on the 31st, my parents had a change of mind and suddenly I found myself tasked with planning and finding a place for lunch. Most restaurants were either closed or booked off. I was not a happy camper, but in the end I managed to find something… somewhat decent. My sibling suggested the Natural History Museum, the Butterfly House and the Library before lunch. I was absolutely sure that was impossible to cram three things in the morning. We would not even do the entire Natural History Museum, but at least we would be somewhere warm. I resigned myself not to see the Library, had a shower and went to bed.

29th December 2024: Arrival, Karlskirche & Prater {Vienna, Silvesterkonzert 2024}

With our plane boarding at 8:10, we aimed to be at the airport around 6:30, which was a successful endeavour. We had our boarding passes but we needed to drop off some luggage. As we needed formal wear, neither of us could just make do with a simple backpack or trolley. We had decided to bring a carry on each, and two large suitcases – one per room – for coats, jackets, dresses and so on. The travel agency had checked us in the day before, and we had separate seats, but that was not important since it is just a short trip early in the morning.

Once in the terminal, it turned out that Iberia did not have a drop-off counter as my parent was expecting, so we had to queue with the people who needed to check in, including non-Schengen and intercontinental travellers. We decided that two of us would line while the other two could sit down and wait for us. We stepped into the cordoned area, and suddenly… one of the attendants directed half of the queue out and into another area of check-in counters. All in all, it took us around 35 minutes to drop the luggage off. Not efficient, Iberia. Not efficient.

Luggage successfully checked in, we went past security, found our gate, and sat down for breakfast. We went to the gate early, and queued to be the first in our group because… I’m not even sure why, but it was too early in the morning to fight. I napped about half of the journey, and also took pictures of the landscape from above. Once we left Spain behind, the mountaintops were covered in snow, and the valleys in fog. This was a clue of how cold it would be when we landed in Vienna. We had a maximum temperature of around +3ºC throughout the trip.

From the plane window Flight Madrid - Vienna

We disembarked and made our way to baggage claim, where our suitcases were among the first few to come up, which is always a great feeling. Afterwards, we went out and found the people responsible for picking us up – the representatives from Blaguss DMC, the local agency which manages Viajes El Corte Inglés and Tourmundial in Austria and Hungary. First, they handed us our our hotel voucher, schedule, and tickets!! Upon opening the envelope to check that everything was correct, we found out schedule with a Vienna tour the following day that my parents swear they had never heard about – the truth is that it appears in the documentation as optional. The driver in charge of taking us to the hotel was… a character. My biggest regret though is that I did not run for a Costa Coffee while we were waiting for the other travellers to come out, but I only saw the sign when he had started moving.

We arrived at the hotel Elaya Hotel Vienna City West around 13:00. It was a four-star hotel that felt like it had dropped at least one and a half, and it was not any of the ones listed in the original documentation. There was neither a bar nor a restaurant, and the staff was not exactly friendly. I know it’s not nice to work during the holidays, but come on. I don’t think requesting two keys for a two-people room was that outrageous. At first, neither card worked to open my door, but after trying three times each card, both sides, I managed to get it open. And more importantly, though the warm option of the air-conditioning did not work, I figured out how to turn on the radiators.

The hotel room was… sad. It had a little terrace overlooking the interior yard, and two windows – the blinds were unmoveable on one and broken on the other. We unpacked, got freshened up, and went back down to find a place to grab a bite to eat. I approached reception to ask for a recommendation, and there was a Spanish lady trying to get the check-in attendant to help her with her card – she seemed to have the same problem I had had. She had no English at all, so I tried to help her out. The attendant just huffed and left to check the room herself, and I guess she managed to get the card working. When she came back, I asked for any restaurants around, and she pointed us up the street. We found a Greek place seemed okay, and that is where we ended up – at restaurant Mythos, which had very friendly staff, and decent food.

Afterwards, I would have gone towards the city centre. However, my parents needed a break and wanted to move as a group. Thus, I stayed in the room – we did not leave the hotel until 16:30, and by that time it was already getting dark. We walked to the underground stop Pilgramgasse. It was supposed to be just ten minutes away, but was a bit longer, I think we took a wrong turn.

The Pilgramgasse station dates back to the original 1899 Valley line, before electricity and all. The entrance was cast in iron, and it looked very cool. There, we bought seventy-two-hour tickets, which are awesome because you only have to validate them once, and then you can use all the transportation options in the city for 72 hours. The price of the pass was 17.10 €, so not that expensive – one trip is 2.20 €, so aside from the convenience, it is value for money if you plan more than seven trips. Though we did take more than that, the best thing is just being able to waltz down to the platforms without having to validate each time. It was also great that the frequency of the underground service was 8 minutes at the longest, and that was on Sunday evening!

We used the underground to find our stop next to Musikverein Wien (Vienna Music Society), where the concert would take place on the 31st. This was to gauge the time to get to the station and the underground system. Once we familiarised ourselves with the transport though, we realised that there was a better route. It included a change, but the station was much closer to the hotel, and the total time was around the same if you accounted for walking times. The Musikverein stands next to Karlsplatz, so once there we just had to cross the street to find ourselves in front of the church Rektoratskirche St. Karl Borromäus or Karlskirche, dedicated to Saint Charles Borromeo.

The cathedral was originally designed in 1713 by Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach. When he died, his son took over directing construction and altered some of the plans. Though the building is Baroque, it displays a mixture of elements – the dome, a Greek temple portico façade, monumental columns based on Rome’s Trajan Columns… The altarpiece was erected by Ferdinand Maximilian Brokoff after the elder Fischer’s design. It portrays the Assumption of Saint Charles Borromeo, the nominal saint, into Heaven. There were Christmas trees on both sides of the altar, which I found strange – I had always thought that the Christian church was not a fan of them.

Karlskirche Vienna

The dome is frescoed with a scene featuring Charles Borromeo, the Virgin Mary, and the Cardinal Virtues, by Johann Michael Rottmayr. Hanging from it, there was a modern art installation by artist Cerith Wyn Evans called Forms through folds (ascending)…. This sculpture is part of the Karlskirche Contemporary Arts Program, started in 2018. That was… weird, and really out of place amongst the Baroque frescoes.

We climbed to the upper levels. The first floor hosts a choir model and the organ, built between 1739 and 1847. Technically you can also access the treasury, but it was locked away. We continued up and stepped into the terrace, which yields to a bit… underwhelming… panoramic view of Karlsplatz and the city. Vienna is a great city, but the Karlskirche is not really looking at the scenery from above.

We should have tried the Vienna Museum next to the church then, but instead took the underground to the classical amusement park Prater, where we had dinner reservations a couple of hours later. Originally a hunting ground, Prater was the area where the 1873 World Exhibition was held. Some of the current buildings were erected at that time. In 1897, the first rides, attractions and puppet theatres were established – including the Ferris wheel Wiener Riesenrad, which is the current symbol of the park. Prater was severely damaged throughout World War II, due to bombings, trenches and fire, but it was eventually reconstructed using records from local artists who had drawn or photographed the area in all its glory. Nowadays, it is considered an actual park, which just happens to have rides on it, and part of it is protected as “green land”. The actual amusement park is called Wurstelprater. There are tons of attractions, rides, snack stalls, and there were even some musical activities going on.

Viena: Prater

But of course, it was Vienna, in a late December evening. It was late and cold. And dinner reservation was hours away. We almost decided to give it up and go back to the hotel, but we found somewhere to have a drink and warm up instead. Finally, we made our way to the Rollercoaster Restaurant, the place where we had – thankfully – reserved in November. It was packed. There were around 50 people waiting to come in, and most of them did not have a booking, and were turned away – there was even a group of people checking every 15 minutes if there was an opening. We took ten minutes to get to the front of the mob to finally get our table, but we were sat around 20:15. I was so happy I had pushed for the reservation! It made me further convinced that anything in the city centre or near a tourist spot might need a reservation, which in turn made me worried about the 31st “winging it” decision.

The Rollercoaster Restaurant works with a system of rails that hang from the ceiling and connect the kitchen to the different tables. The food is prepared by human chefs and distributed by two huge robotic arms. Once placed on the rails, it rolls and slides and gets to the right table – much like suitcases inside an airport distribution system. We were also on time for one of the robot shows, where they turn off all the lights and play music while the robot arms “dance”, and it was surreally fun. One of my parents was horrified, because they are more on the traditional side of things, but the rest of us had a lot of fun! The food was all right, too. I ordered baked schnitzel fingers served with potato salad, Gebackene Schnitzel mit Erdäpfelsalat, and we shared some baked Emmental with cranberry sauce Gebackener Emmentaler mit Preiselbeeren. I kind of wanted some apple strudel, but my portion was good enough, so I decided not to get any.

Vienna Rollercoaster Restaurant

We left around 21:30, and headed back to the hotel using the underground system. This time, we came out at a stop much closer to the hotel, Zieglergasse, which was neither pretty nor classical, but nearby and functional. Afterwards, there was just a shower and bed. I could not sleep right away though, because my mind was latching onto the group trip the following day. My parent had decided that we would just not show up – we had tried to warn the representative, but the driver said it was not his responsibility. I kept thinking that if we were not there, everyone else would wait for us and that was not a nice thing to do. It did not feel right. Maybe I’d meet the lady with the key problem, I thought, and warn her that we would not be tagging along. Hopefully.

Yes, I know. I worry too much.

18 & 19th November 2024: Apocalyptica Played Metallica in Madrid (Spain), so there I went

Planning for this short getaway started on the 23rd of February, when I bought my ticket for the Apocalyptica Plays Metallica Vol. 2 Tour 2024 stop in La Riviera in Madrid (50.50 €). Almost immediately, I headed off to Apocalyptica’s website to buy the VIP Tour 2024 Upgrade (58,90 €). The upgrade consisted on early access, photograph / meet & greet / autograph session (the important part), VIP lanyard, fabric patch, pin and tote bag. Honestly, all that for barely 100 € was a sweet deal. Back in Antwerp for Starset, someone I was queueing with complained that VIP tickets were too expensive for “a broke uni student”, but for me, meeting with the artist, albeit briefly is usually worth it – early entry is a plus, too, because for some concerts I either find a barrier spot or I just have to go to the back. The bundle was dispatched on the 9th of June (according to the email. Do Finnish post offices open on Sunday?) and it arrived on the 18th.

I originally booked a cheap hotel about half an hour’s walk from the venue. Later, I decided that I preferred the more expensive one less than 10 minutes away, so I changed my booking a week before the concert. I did not book there originally because it required prepayment, and my card was playing up..

On Friday the 4th of November I received an email with instructions for the Meet & Greet, which was to start at 18:30, and I should be there at 18:15. All right, I could do that. It was only a matter of waiting.

On Monday, 17th of November, I took a morning train to head out to Madrid with some leeway for time because I needed to do some small item shopping. I had to dodge some guys trying to get people to sign up for an NGO, but at 11:40 I made it to my first stop of the day – the light museum Museo de la Luz. I had been putting this visit off to go with someone who had expressed interest. However, I also waited for another exhibit and I missed my chance as it turned out to be only temporal. Thus, I decided to head to the Light Museum on my own – it was also one of the few exhibitions open on a Monday morning.

The Light Museum is a modest exhibition with interactive artworks that are mainly made out of lamps, lasers and lights. When you come in, you are given covers for your shoes and a key for a locker – all for free. Then you wait until an attendant takes you in and shows you how to interact with the first artwork “The birdcage” (La Pajarera), a box made out of light and metal that you make change colours with the movement of your arms. Once you know how to “play” with the art, you are left on your own to wander for an hour. At first I thought it would be tight, but the place was small – a bit too small for the price, I thought. I was there for around 40 minutes in total.

There were few people and I was able to check out most of the artwork uninterrupted. The next exhibit is made out of a number of old music festival lights – those that gave a lot of heat from the 90s, which are supposed to be a reference to climate change. Then there is a giant kaleidoscope you can walk in – this one became my favourite. Other rooms or works include a wall of lights that follow you as you move or dance, something with lasers (that I think was broken), some light illusions, a room full of hanging lights, a cube of mirrors and light… At the end there is a wall reading “light museum” in differently coloured lights. When I left, the lady at reception gave me a badge for booking with the official website.

Light Museum Madrid

Light Museum Madrid

I walked out and headed towards the restaurant where I wanted to cheat the system. I crossed the square Puerta del Sol, where they were setting up the Christmas tree – it was about 45% Christmas. On my way, I walked by the underground stop Metro Banco de España which has a tiny door for Little Mouse Pérez – Ratoncito Pérez, the Spanish equivalent to the tooth fairy. I never remember to check it out when I am around, but I made the connection this time.

I finally made it to the James Joyce Pub – which is technically a sports bar. I was not there for the TVs though. I had a while back found the place looking up places which served English breakfasts in Madrid. The James Joyce prides itself in being an Irish pub and offers Irish All-Day Breakfast (12.00 €) – two pork sausages, two rashers of bacon, baked beans, fried egg, sautéed mushrooms, grilled tomato, blood pudding, chips, two half-toasts and butter. No, I would not survive that for breakfast, so I ordered it for lunch (and dinner), thus tricking the system indeed. Unfortunately, it was really good and authentic, so now I’ve got to come back for the sausages and the shepherd’s pie, so at least twice.

James Joyce Irish breakfast

After lunch, I headed out towards the park known as Madrid Río. The park runs along the banks of the river Manzanares. It covers 121 hectares, and it was designed after to cover the space emptied when the belt road M-30 was rebuilt as an underground tunnel. The original project was created by a team of architectural studios and landscapers, with strong ecological consideration – aiming to help the area recover from the degradation and pollution caused by years of road traffic. The project was carried out between 2006 and 2012. In 2015, a second project was carried out to “renaturalise” the river, opening the dams to allow the water to flow freely, which in turn caused the recovery of many plant and animal species (to the detriment of… the local rowing team).

There are also bridges that connect both banks of the river. One of them is the one I crossed – just because I could. It is the pedestrian bridge Puente Monumental de Arganzuela, designed by Dominique Perrault. It is a bridge in two parts – one crosses the river, the other overlooks the park and connects to the urban area, and a total length of 278 metres. It is a tube made out of steel and wood that I’ve been wanting to check out for a while.

Arganzuela bridge

Another important bridge is the completely different Puente de Toledo, a baroque bridge built by Pedro de Ribera. It was erected in granite between 1717 and 1732 as the previous ones had been taken down by torrential floods. This one was made to stay, with nine solid arches opened to allow for the river floods. It was… ready for Christmas.

Madrid Río and bridges

It was weirdly warm for a November afternoon, so when I went to my hotel I opened the window while I had a shower. Around 17:00 I headed out to the venue, where there was a small group of people waiting already. La Riviera is a 1,500 people venue, with really good acoustics – and very dedicated staff. The place was originally a cinema, which was turned into a disco, and then into a music venue and nightclub. It is the same place I saw Epica and Apocalyptica in 2023, and I was surprised how many people came for the M&G considering that last year we were… six. We were around 30 this time around.

At first we were chatting in front of the main door, but soon a queue started forming. A little later, the nice security guy (who last year told me “I looked the part of an Apocalyptica fan”) took us to a secondary door, and the queue was properly organised. Surprisingly, bags were not checked – while last year they even took markers from people.

Apocalyptica is a Finnish symphonic metal band. It was formed in 1993 as a tribute to Metallica with a classical touch – playing with cellos. Their debut album Apocalyptica plays Metallica by Four Cellos was released in 1993. They slowly moved from covering other bands in a neoclassical style to their very own repertoire. Today, the members are Eicca Toppinen, Paavo Lötjönen and Perttu Kivilaakso, three classically-trained musicians with a deep love for metal. In 2024, they have gone full circle with the album and tour Apocalyptica Plays Metallica Vol. 2, performing with drummer Mikko Kaakkuriniemi.

Apocalyptica Tour 24/25

We were ushered into a queue for signatures, and afterwards we would go at the end of the line to wait for photographs. I had brought a print-out of the picture from the previous year, and I told them that whenever they came to Madrid, I would come see them. I got a smile for that. It was an awesome photograph, after all. After everyone had their stuff signed we had the photographs. I asked for “a big metal hug” and got trolled instead. Fun times though!

After the photograph, I found a spot at the barrier. Last time I got on the right, this time I went left. Just a little. I did not want to go dead centre in case anyone decided to moshpit, but I might next time as there was no issue – everyone was too entranced for anything like that, I’d say.

The opening act was the Finnish band Arctis, a baby band who has just debuted with their first CD. They were pretty fun, maybe… a bit… too happy bouncy for metal? I’ve read their act described as metal-pop. It might be. I liked them okay, and they were nice.

Setlist:
 1. I’ll Give You Hell
 2. Remedy
 3. Tell Me Why
 4. WWM
 5. Bimbo (Lambretta Cover)
 6. Fire
 7. Frozen Swan
 8. When The Lights Go Out
 9. Theater of Tragedy

Arctis at La Riviera 2024

Arctis at La Riviera 2024

Apocalyptica came on stage at 21:00 sharp, and the live was glorious. All the songs were Metallica covers, from the new album, the first one, or the remastered version of Plays Metallica released in 2016. Despite that, one would not even have to be a Metallica fan to enjoy the concert, because the three men that compose Apocalyptica have an amazing magnetism. Perttu reminds me of the Duracell Bunny, he just did not stop for a second throughout the whole concert, which lasted a good two hours. Paavo seemed to be in his own little world, as he usually does. Eicca is the one doing most of the talking, and he is hilarious when he delivers his puns with a total deadpan voice and face.

Setlist:
 1. Ride the Lightning
 2. Enter Sandman
 3. Creeping Death
 4. For Whom the Bell Tolls
 5. Battery
 6. The Call of Ktulu
 7. St. Anger
 8. The Four Horsemen
 9. Blackened
 10. Master of Puppets
 11. Nothing Else Matters
 12. Seek & Destroy
 13. One

The audience was mostly moved by Nothing Else Matters, I’d say, judging by how they chorused it. Perttu was all in for that. Personally, I found Seek & Destroy and One, particularly, to be extremely powerful. Also, knowing that they dug up the original bass track from deceased Metallica member Cliff Burton for The Call of Ktulu was half-amazing and half-chilling. All in all, it was a fantastic concert, no matter how one looked at it.

Apocalyptica La Riviera 2024

Eicca Toppinen . Apocalyptica La Riviera 2024

Paavo Lötjönen. Apocalyptica La Riviera 2024

Perttu Kivilaakso. Apocalyptica La Riviera 2024

Apocalyptica La Riviera 2024

Afterwards, Arctis was hanging out by the merch. I got their CD, they signed it, we took a photo. It was fun!

I left the venue and I brought an ice-cream and a sports drink for “dinner” of sorts, because I was thirsty. I had both in the hotel room before my shower – the second of the day – and collapsing onto the king-sized bed. I had to wait for the phone to finish charging before I slept though, so I watched a movie before I zonked out.

I woke up on Tuesday, 18th of November and drank my coffee before I set out. It was freezing out there, with frost on the grass, in spite of the warm afternoon the day before. On my way, I found the ancient walls of the city, remains from the old Moorish fortress alcázar, which stand to the side of the Royal Palace and the Almudena cathedral. I walked towards the centre of Madrid – The Sol Christmas tree was about 60% ready – to meet up with my relative for breakfast at a new place called Kawaii Cafe. Inspired by the Japanese kawaii [可愛い]. Kawaii means pretty, childlike, cute, and the Kawaii Cafe has taken the idea to heart, maybe not not in a complete accurate manner though. Everything is pink, full of fluffy and glitter. The food is not only tasty, also pretty. However, the wait staff is dressed as “maids” [マイド], which I tend to associate more to the… hm… more risqué side of hospitality. When food is brought out, you are offered to chant a spell for it to be even tastier.

I found the place existed by chance, and I was instantly smitten by the rainbow waffles, because they were adorable, and very, very rainbow-like. Thus, I ordered them, along a matcha latte. My relative tried the pancakes with a cocoa. She was ecstatic at the quirkiness of the place.

Kawaii Cafe Madrid order

We stayed for well over an hour, and then headed out to one of the local museums Museo de San Isidro – Museum of Saint Isidore the Labourer. Isidore is the patron saint of Madrid. He is credited with several miracles – multiplying wheat and food, having his oxen plough on their own, and rescuing a child from a well making the waters inside rise. According to tradition, the museum is housed where he used to work, and legend has it that the old well is the one he pulled the child from.

Today the museum hosts some palaeontological and archaeological exhibits, from a mastodon and ancient rhinos to Medieval artefacts, running through the Roman occupation and the Muslim period. The place is a complement to the Museo de Historia de Madrid, or maybe its competition, though I think both belong to the same institution – and both are free. As the building is a historical place, it offers the chance to enjoy its small but beautiful Renaissance courtyard, with sculptures of mythological heroes, and of course St. Isidore and his wife. There is also a tiny Baroque chapel.

San Isidro Museum

San Isidro Museum: chapel, well, and courtyard

Right next to the museum stands the Baroque church of Saint Andrew the Apostle Iglesia de San Andrés Apóstol , which was getting ready for Christmas. The church is one of the oldest in town, though it was rebuilt after its destruction during the Civil War, and it has been recently restored. It hosts a number of religious sculptures and a painted vault above the altar.

Saint Andrew church Madrid

We took the underground at the station Tirso de Molina, which can still be accessed through the historical entrance hall, which is similar to the one that was closed off in Pacífico. It was beautiful, though of course busier than the museum one. Over the entrance to the platform there is a tile mosaic with the old shield of Madrid, dating back from the original station. It was installed in 1921, and it is the oldest artistic item in the underground network.

Access Hall at undeground station Tirso de Molina

From there we commuted to Nuevos Ministerios, where they had just kick-started the Christmas market. It seemed to be the “brands” market, with Lego, Disney, and so on. There was also a food truck by a famous chef selling basically chicken sandwiches at outrageous prices. I had been vaguely curious but not going to break the bank for a chicken sandwich, especially after such a breakfast!

I took a train from there back home, with no incidents whatsoever (because by now I’m desensitised to trains being late…)

13th September 2024: Cádiz, Jerez, Puerto Real & back to Cádiz {Escapade to Cádiz, September 2024}

After making sure there were no ants in my breakfast – I had stored it in the mini-fridge, and they were all in the trash can with the decoy – I left for an early walk around Cádiz as the sun rose. I went to Puerta de Tierra (the Land Gate), the remains of the walls that closed off the city in the past, which today separates the old and new areas. The original redoubt was erected in the 16th century, embellished in 1756 with a portal, and a tower was added in 1850. In the early 20th century, arches were opened into the wall to allow traffic to come through. There was a temporary installation to commemorate the “Phoenician Week” activities, but it was so garish that I was not even sure whether it was real or a parody of sorts.

Puerta de Tierra Cádiz

Afterwards, I walked to the train station to take the train to the nearby city of Jerez de la Frontera, where my first stop was the fortress-palace Conjunto Monumental del Alcázar. The first remains known of the alcázar date back from the 11th century, though most of what still stands was erected in the Almohad period (12th – 13th centuries). The fortress was repeatedly taken and lost in the war between Moors and Christians until the Catholic Monarchs finally conquered all of Spain. The building was owned by the crown, but it fell into disarray, and in the 18th century a Baroque palace was built.

Alcazar de Jerez de la Frontera - exterior

Today, this palace is the only intact construction, and the one I left for last. I moved towards the garden first, which lead to the Arab baths, the octagonal tower, the cistern, the Royal Pavilion, and the walls, with some of the machinery from the Medieval times. The gardens were patrolled by peafowl. On the other side of the complex stand the mosque, an area with a reproduction of ancient oil presses, and the original gates in the walls.

Alcazar de Jerez de la Frontera - cistern and mosque, and peacock

The Baroque palace Palacio de Villavicencio holds a wooden staircase, several rooms with rich decoration including hanging lamps and wall paintings, and a salvaged pharmacy from the 19th century.

Alcazar de Jerez: Palacio de Villavicencio

After the alcázar, which took longer than I thought to explore, I headed out to the Royal Andalusian School of Equestrian Art Real Escuela Andaluza del Arte Ecuestre to watch the show Cómo bailan los caballos andaluces (The way Andalusian horses dance), an eight-part show which has been performed since 1973. The exhibition showcases the different types of exercises that the horses are trained for – whether it is with a rider, or a handler on their feet, alone, or coordinating with other horses on the arena. It was a really impressive performance, and the horses were gorgeous.

Setlist of the show:
  1. Cómo se anda en el campo
  2. Al son de la garrocha
  3. Paso a dos
  4. Trabajos en la mano
  5. Fantasía
  6. Saltos de escuela
  7. Riendas largas
  8. Carrusel

Royal Equestrian Art School, Jerez

After the show, I hung around for as long as I was allowed to, snooping the horse riding museum and the small palace in the grounds until they closed down and I had to leave. I bought a sandwich and a bottle of water from a supermarket in the way, and went on to the cathedral Catedral de Nuestro Señor San Salvador. The current building was not originally conceived as a cathedral. It was founded in 1778, built between the 17th and 18th centuries, and consecrated as cathedral as recently as 1978. It has a gothic structure, with a Baroque façade and a Neoclassic altarpiece. Behind the altar there is small treasury / museum and a spiral staircase to a secret chapel which is barely the painting of a saint – but the staircase was pretty, it reminded me of the one in the church in Tendilla. I also walked up the tower so I could see the city from above.

Cathedral Jerez de la Frontera

By the time I was on my way back, it was too late to snoop into the farmers’ market Mercado Central Abastos, so I headed directly towards the train station to fight the ticket machine, then headed to Puerto Real. This is a town between Jerez and Cádiz where I used to live. After checking out some places out of nostalgia, I went towards the seaside. It was an eerie feeling, because it had changed very little from what I remembered from almost two decades ago, when I left, and still it was slightly different. I visited the beach Playa de la Cachucha and walked along the promenade Paseo Marítimo until I saw my old university building.

The Andalusian Centre for Marine Studies Centro Superior de Estudios Marinos, CASEM, is a helix-shaped building, originally conceived by Manuel López Vázquez. The building has three “arms” in 120-degree angles, and a glass dome at the centre. It is located in the middle of the natural reserve. However, going there would have made me extremely sad. Thus, I decided to walk back towards the station and take a train back to Cádiz.

Puerto Real: Playa de la Cacucha

Since I had visited the land gates, I also wanted to see the Sea Gate Puerta del Mar, the remains of the entrance to the harbour. Today it is more of a monument than an actual gate, but it is still there.

Cádiz Puerta del Mar

I was able to get there with enough time to head out to the archaeological site Yacimiento Arqueológico Gadir, one of the most important of its kind, since Phoenician settlement remains are far and few. The site, underneath a theatre, has two layers – the original one might date back from the 9th century BCE, with the remains of eight houses, complete with kitchen and oven, and streets. The settlement was destroyed in a fire, which also left two victims, a man and a cat, both of whose remains are exhibited there. The second layer is more recent – a fish processing factory with pools to preserve the product in brine from the Roman domination.

Yacimiento arqueológico de Gadir

Finally, I decided to end the day with a nice dinner. I went to the nearby market Mercado Central de Abastos de Cádiz, which has some eateries that work with local product. However, I did not locate the place I wanted to hit, and ended up distracted by El Viajero del Merkao, a place which advertised bluefin tuna, and offered it in tartar. I combined the tuna tartar with a typical tortillita de camarones, a fried batter made with water, chickpea flour, wheat flour and tiny shrimp, and a not so typical Taco de Cadi, Cadi, a tortillita with guacamole and salsa.

Tortillita de camarones & tuna tartar

I went back to the hotel to have a shower, then I turned in for the night (in a non-ant-infested room now).

12th September 2024: Cádiz {Escapade to Cádiz, September 2024}

My paperwork-related appointment was at 9:30 in Cádiz itself, and I got up around 7:30. I left the hotel, but unfortunately the café where I had expected to have breakfast was closed. Thus, I instead headed out towards the promenade Paseo del Vendaval to see the ocean again. I turned to my right, in the opposite direction from the previous night, and I walked towards the central beach in town – Playa de la Caleta, a mostly-rocky area with tidal ponds and a long bridge called Puente del Hierro which leads to an old castle Castillo de San Esteban. I chased a few birds on the way for photographs. They were not at all cooperative.

I reached the former bathhouse Balneario de Nuestra Señora de la Palma y del Real, built in 1926 from an original design by Enrique García Cañas with one main access and two corridors that form a semicircle towards the ocean, and end in domes. It was build directly onto the beach, in reinforced concrete, with a style gravitating among Art noveau, eastern historicism and local decoration with azulejo tiles. It was abandoned in the 1970s, but restored for administrative use in the 1990s.

I ventured away from the ocean into the narrow streets of Cádiz downtown until I got to the town’s theatre Gran Teatro Falla, in the Neomudejar style. It was built between 1884 and 1905, on and off due to lack of funds, after a design by Adolfo Morales de los Ríos and Adolfo del Castillo Escribano. The theatre is one of the key spots during Carnival festivities. The Cádiz Carnival is one of oldest and most famous in Spain, known for its groups of people who parade the town in costume to sing simple songs that make fun of every- and anything, normally current affairs – coros, cuartetos, comparsas and chirigotas. The great Carnival contest is celebrated in the theatre, and prizes are awarded in each of the categories. The carnival brings in about 400,000 visitors each year. I tried to get to visit the theatre, but I did not manage to do so.

Paseo del Vendaval & Gran Teatro Falla Cádiz

Around 09:15 I decided to try my luck with the paperwork issue, even if it was early for my appointment, and I was successful. Since it was an important document, I ran back to the hotel to drop it there, and then headed off to the square Plaza de La Mina, where the local museum Museo de Cádiz stands.

It is said that Cádiz is the oldest Western city, founded around the 9th century BCE. Mythologically, it is associated with Hercules’ Columns and the city of Tarsis. The oldest archaeological remains date back to the 7th century BCE. The now-peninsula was originally a small archipelago where the Phoenicians settled down as it was a strategic point for commerce and mining of copper and tin, naming the settlement Gadir. It was later conquered by Carthaginians, whose march to Rome led by Hannibal started there. When Carthage lost the war, the city was taken over by Romans and became Gades in the 2nd century BCE.

As the Roman Empire declined, the city was invaded by the Visigoths, then the Byzantine Empire, and again by the Visigoths. In the year 710 CE, it was the first stronghold to fall to the Moorish conquest of Spain. After the Christians took it over again, it became a key point in commerce with the American territories.

In 1755, Cádiz was damaged by a three-wave tsunami caused by the so-called “Lisbon Earthquake”, 8.5 degrees in the Richter scale. In 1812, during the Napoleonic Wars, the Spanish patriots wrote the first Spanish Constitution, and throughout the 19th century, it was key in the numerous wars and battles through the return of Alfonso VII, the Republic and the Restoration of the Monarchy periods. However, during the 20th century, the city decayed suffering from lack of infrastructures, and rampant unemployment. Thus, it is happy to focus on tourism and the money it brings.

The Museo de Cádiz tries to follow this trail of history, but only the archaeological floor was open. The most important artefacts date from the Phoenician, Roman and Moorish periods. Of particular interest are two Phoenician sarcophagi which were found in completely different areas, but are presented as a couple of sorts, and a complete dowry. From Roman times, they exhibit a few dozen amphorae, sculptures and columns. Finally, the remains from the Moorish domination are quite colourful in comparison with everything else. The second floor of the museum was closed, so I was done earlier than expected.

Cádiz Museum

Thus, I decided to push my luck a little and try to get to the archaeological site called Cueva del Pájaro Azul for the 10:30 visit in English. The place is a former flamenco tavern built within the repurposed dry docks of the Phoenician Gadir. Most of the structure has been covered in brick and barely the original shape can be traced back, enough to calculate that the dry docks served war ships. While building new stairs, they did find part of the original Phoenician harbour though, the most important remain that survives. The tavern itself might be considered of minimal historical importance as it was a considerable cultural hub in the 1960s.

Archaeological site Cueva del Pájaro Azul

To keep in the mood, I decided to visit the archaeological site Yacimiento Arqueológico de Gadir, making a stop for a coffee first. Unfortunately, the site was closed that day. Thus, I decided to check out the Roman Theatre Teatro Romano de Cádiz – it might feel a little back and forth, but distances in central Cádiz are small and I wanted to prioritise Phoenician remains (I said I lived in the area, but all these archaeological remains are newly discovered). The theatre is the second largest one in what was Hispania, and dates from the 1st century BCE. It could host up to 10,000 people, and the stage, stands and the vomitorium (corridor underneath the seats) can be visited. There is an extra room with miniatures of the different stages of the history of the theatre.

Roman Theatre Cádiz

I left behind something called “The Elf’s Alley” Callejón del Duende, the narrowest street in town, now closed off. Very near both the alley and the theatre, I found the old cathedral Catedral Vieja de Cádiz officially Parroquia de Santa Cruz. This was the original cathedral of the town, commissioned by king Alfonso X around 1262. The original building was destroyed during the scuffles between the Spanish and the English at the end of the 16th century, and a new one was erected a few years later in a mixture of the Renaissance and the Baroque styles.

Former cathedral of Cádiz

Next to the old cathedral stands the museum of the cathedral Casa de la Contaduría. The museum comprises a number of rooms disseminated in a conglomerate of buildings dating back from the 16th century – including the tower of the old cathedral and a Mudejar courtyard. The museum holds – obviously – religious items: paintings, sculptures, mass paraphernalia, codexes…

Cathedral Museum Cádiz

Afterwards, I crossed the city centre all over again, and reached the park Parque Genovés, a sort of botanical garden and the largest park in the old town. It has a small lake with a waterfall and a man-made cave with a lookout of the town and the ocean.

Park Parque Genovés in Cádiz

Then, I had booked lunch in the café of the Parador de Cádiz – Hotel Atlántico, a cute not-so-little place called La Tacita del Atlántico. I had set my heart on a grilled urchin dish – erizo de mar relleno y gratinado con huevos de arenque ahumado which I combined with a salmorejo (a creamy soup with a base of tomato and bread, garnished with ham and hard boiled eggs), though the dish had a local twist salmorejo cordobés, huevo y mojama. The urchins were delicious, but the salmorejo was lacking. I liked the idea of exchanging the ham for salt-cured tuna (mojama), but overall I found the food overpriced and the service mediocre. On my way out, I stopped by reception to get my stamp for the Red de Paradores rally.

Lunch at La Tacita del Atlántico

I stayed at Parque Genovés for a bit after lunch, then headed out towards the “new” cathedral Catedral de la Santa Cruz. The cathedral was built between 1722 and 1838, in a mixture of styles – Baroque, Rococo and Neoclassicism. It was erected in an assortment of materials, from noble marble to the humble local piedra ostionera, a sedimentary rock with a high concentration of seashells (biocalcarenite). The interior has three naves, and a Latin cross floor plan, over whose crossing there is a has dome, covered by golden tiles on the outside. The main altar is neoclassical.

Underneath the cathedral stands the crypt, and one of the towers can be ascended, leading to a great view of the town. The tower has very few stairs, most of the way is done on a ramp. Unfortunately, though, the cathedral is in rather poor state, and a net is cast under the ceiling to prevent debris from falling. I also climbed the tower since it was included in my combo ticket.

Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Cádiz

View of Cádiz from the cathedral tower

Behind the cathedral, I found myself back at the promenade Paseo del Vendaval, and I walked towards the beach Playa de la Caleta. In historical times, it was the natural port for Phoenician, Carthaginian and Roman shops, now it is a small-ish beach in the heart of the city. It is located between two of the castles of the old city, and its most characteristic structure is the bath house I saw in the morning.

The beach has a sand area where most people sunbathe, but there is a long bridge separated in two sections – one directly built upon rock, Puente de Hierro and the other with arches to let the water flow through, Puente Canal. At the end of the half-kilometre of bridges, stand the ruins of the castle Castillo de San Sebastián, which today includes a working lighthouse, and an archaeological site. The first structure in the ancient island dates back from 1457, and the castle itself was built in 1706. Though it was warm and sunny, I walked the bridges and around the castle walls.

La Caleta Beach Cádiz & San Sebastián Castle

Upon my “return to mainland”, I passed by the bath house again and I reached a second castle, Castillo de Santa Catalina. The outpost, in the shape of a five-point star, was built towards the end of the 16th century to defend the city form sea warfare. In later years, a church and a sacristy were added, and from the 18th century onwards it was used as a prison. Today, it mostly hosts cultural or cinema-related events.

Santa Catalina Castle, Cádiz

I continued on my walk around the city, left behind a knee cramp, the Parador de Cádiz and Parque Genovés until I reached the bulwark Baluarte de la Candelaria and the park Jardines Clara Campoamor. From there, I went on towards a second bulwark and the remains of the city walls Baluarte y Murallas de San Carlos. The bulwark was built towards the end of the 18th century to protect the harbour. Not far from there stands the square Plaza de España with the monument to the 1812 Constitution Monumento a la Constitución de 1812, the political response to the Napoleonic invasion. A bit further away stands the fountain Fuente de la Plaza de las Tortugas, with lots of cute turtles as decoration.

San Carlos Bulwark and Walls Cádiz

Monument to the 1812 Constitution Cádiz

Turtle fountain in Cádiz

At this time I decided to get an early dinner around 18:30, so I bought some fast food to take to the hotel. That is when the ant invasion started. It was something I was not expecting – one or two bugs is workable, but this was a whole nest out for my fries. It was not nice. I decoyed them into bathroom and decided to have the room cleaned the next morning.

I set off again about 20:15 to look for a place to watch the sunset at the beach Playa de la Caleta, which did not disappoint, and I sat there until the sun disappeared beyond the water line. Luckily, I made it today, as it would be ridiculously windy the following day.

Sunset at La Caleta, Cádiz

I then found the street Calle the la Virgen de la Palma, at whose end stands the small church Parroquia de Nuestra Señora de la Palma. It was built in the 18th century and it hosts a sculpture of the Virgin Mary credited with stopping the waters during the 1755 tsunami. In the street, there is a signal marking the highest water point, but there were so many restaurants and people that it was impossible to find it!

Sculpture of the Virgin Mary

I went back to the hotel afterwards to have some sleep – I was beat. I did manage to make a stop at a supermarket to buy coffee and pastries for breakfast the following morning though. Because one late latte per trip is enough.