Where? When it was decided that our literary society would meet in Teruel, Spain this year, Kay and I were nonplussed. The city and its eponymous province were not on our mental map. Turns out that Teruel province along with those of Zaragoza and Huesca together make up the autonomous community of Aragon, which shares borders in the country’s northeast with Catalonia and France. It is noted for its harsh climate, hot in summer and very cold during the winter months. Teruel city, with its population of 35, 675 in 2014, is the smallest of Spain’s fifty provincial capitals.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Istanbul – Valencia, Spain
It’s been a long travel day. We got up early to close the apartment and drag our cases along the esplanade to the seabus terminal. It being early on a Sunday morning, the only time of the week when traffic in the city is light, we got to the airport more quickly than usual.
We had arrived early because of warnings that the airport, one of the world’s busiest, would be more crowded than usual due to the bayram holiday just beginning. We passed security, passport control, and 2nd security smoothly before spending a long time in the Primeclass Lounge, having some breakfast and reading.
He: Where you going?
A lyric from Steven Sondheim’s musical Company
One recent evening Kay and I found ourselves in Dry Martini, a bar not far from our hotel in Barcelona’s fashionable Eixample district. We had come as a prelude to the single extravagant dinner we would enjoy during our short visit to that splendid city. Dry Martini is the kind of bar all too rare nowadays. Its dark paneled walls, intimate lighting, and relaxed seating engendered in us a feeling of joy and well-being. We were mildly tired after a day of sightseeing.