Spain’s state-owned Parador hotel chain is supposed to offer a selection of the finest hotels the country has to offer, often in beautifully restored historic buildings. There is usually a restaurant of varying quality within, and rooms tend to be spacious and clean (especially the bathrooms, where hygiene labels are slapped on everything - see above!)

But Paradors are increasing in price, and are not the bargain they used to be. Typical summer rates hover around the 130 Euros mark, and the big guns like Granada and Santiago de Compostella can charge over 300 for a room. Yes, you can sign up for the “under 30″ or “5 night card” special deals, but only if you can work out the mind-boggling chart that supposedly explains when to make the most of these. So the question remains, are Paradores worth it?

Well, what makes a Parador worth paying for? It’s either the location or the building, and preferably both. Staying in an old castle, for example, is cool, especially when it has exceptional views over endless dry plains. With this in mind, below are two lists, including all the Paradors we have stayed in, explaining why we think these Paradors are either worth the cash, or worth avoiding. Hopefully you can help expand to the lists in the comments.

Paradors worth the money

• Malaga Gibralfaro - Stunning location, amazing views of city and sea, great pool
• Jarandilla de la Vera - Beautiful old castle in a quiet town
• Carmona - Stunning views of the Andaluz plains, peaceful Andaluz town
• Santiago de Compostella - … if you can afford one of the good rooms…
• Gredos - Lost in the sierra north-west of Madrid, real escapism - not for all tastes!
• Trujillo - Peace and quiet in an old convent in a pleasant Extramaduran town

Paradors worth skipping

• Cadiz - Overpriced modern monstrosity
• Argómaniz - Boredom in the Basque country
• Siguenza - Lovely old castle, nearly makes the mark, but the town is a little dull
• Arcos de la Frontera - Again, so nearly makes it, with amazing views and a picture-perfect white washed town, but finding a cockroach crawling over my bed at 4 a.m. tips this one off this list

To locate all of these check out the Parador list and map at the Parador website. Can you help to expand on these lists from your own experiences?

Ryan from catavino.net (best Spanish wine info on the net!) thought we might like to spend a day wandering around a vinyard and tasting wine… he was right!

Check out the podcast, and if you would like to visit the abbey and vinyard, full details are available at the Abadia Retuerta website (they also have a wine blog!) Check out more of our photos from the trip here, and view the map below to find out where to locate Sardon del Duero (the vinyard is just to the east of Sardon on the main road - click on the blue marker and use the controls to enlarge). Cheers!

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Google has just released a new mapping feature that I’ve been waiting for for ages, and is going to work really well on this blog. You can now embed their maps in the same way as you can add youtube videos to blogs, with a simple snippet of code. Here is my map of some great bars in the La Latina area of Madrid. Click on the blue flags for more details, use the controls to zoom in, out etc, click and hold to drag the map around… great stuff:

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According to Giles Tremlett in Madrid, the Spanish broadcaster TVE has decided that it might not be a good idea to broadcast live fights at a time when lots of kids watch TV. Seems insanely sensible to me.

Richard Morley posts from Madrid about a problem that currently seems to be out of control in the Spanish capital:

There’s this scrawny guy who crouches most days in the Calle de Arenal, one of Madrids streets thronged with tourists as they move from Sol to the Palacio Real. Apart from looking somewhat emaciated, he seems in reasonable health, in late teens or early twenties, is well dressed and occasionally can be seen smoking a cigarette. Yet all day he crouches, staring at the ground. One leg is bent under him, the other bares the weight of his right arm stretched out with the hand semi clasped like a claw, but open enough to form a cup into which passers-by are silently beseeched to drop a few coins. Unlike the other human statues that seems to plague Madrid; those street “performance artists” who dressed as miners, ballerinas, cowboys or caked in mud, pose unmoving until an impressed observer throws a coin into the provided receptacle, this scrawny young man does nothing, not even a murmured “gracias” for the few one or two Euro coins that the sympathetic feel obliged to give him.

On Saturdays, when the shopping crowds throng the Calle de Preciados, a main shopping thoroughfare that connects the Gran Via to the Puerta del Sol and bounded by richly stocked department stores, the pedestrians passage is often blocked by supplicants kneeling and bent like Moslems praying to Mecca. These people moan and cry out for help, often beseeching God’s assistance, but what they really want are the shoppers to throw unwanted change into the cardboard box, cap or a paper cup from McDonalds resting before them on the paving slabs. The sight disgusts a Spanish friend who accuses them of duping the public with their piety and claims they make a small fortune from the compassionate crowd.

This month of August, deserted by vacationing Spaniards, but full of tourists, seems to be a popular time for beggars to ply their supposed plight and appeal for alms. It is almost impossible to walk Madrid’s streets without being pestered. Even the diner or person minding his own business in a café is not safe. The beggars approach tables seeking cigarettes or money. To one seeking a cigarette I pointed to a vending machine not five metres away. I received a torrent of abuse for my helpfulness and she moved on to other tables. A man approached me apparently selling lottery tickets. In Spain this is a job given to the blind and disabled, so one is naturally sympathetic, but this one appeared neither blind nor suffering any other handicap. When I told him I did not want a ticket, he quite rudely demanded I gave him money for food. I declined.

Quite frankly, estoy hasta el pelo with these people. I want to walk and sightsee unmolested. I have heard voiced similar complaints about these people from elderly British and American visitors. The beggars can be quite demanding and these people feel threatened. It is not a good memory to take from what is one of the most beautiful and friendly cities in Europe and does not present Madrid, and by extension, Spain, in a good light.

In the Plaza de Callao most days, a small South American woman with severely truncated arms, I presume from being born to a mother who took thalidomide while pregnant, spreads out a blanket on the pavement and in the searing heat of an unforgiving sun, asks for financial help. At the other end of the Calle de Preciados, in Sol, a youngish man with no arms at all holds and rattles a plastic cup in his mouth and appeals for money “para el amor de dios”. And while it is remarkable that he can voice this appeal while holding the increasingly heavy cup between his teeth, he is always well groomed, well nourished, clean and polite, which surely means that, with his appalling handicap, this man has someone who feeds him, dresses him, and cares for him in many ways. So why does he feel the need to appeal to the crowds of Sol for money? So many visitors must go away thinking that rich, resourceful Spain does not care for its less able population.

Yet we know this not to be true. Daily the local news on TV invariably will carry an item of how communities or charities are extending their help to the less well off members of this society. Of course, there are people who slip through the net. Like capital cities across the globe, Madrid has its share of rough sleepers blocking alleys and shop doorways with their makeshift cardboard “homes”. The numbers of poor legal and illegal immigrants are a huge drain on the community’s resources, but I have also been approached, two evenings running, by an obviously absent minded American youth who claimed his passport and wallet had been stolen and he just needed a “couple of euros” for him to use a photo booth so he could get a new passport. Then there was the purported Swiss businessman who claimed he had been mugged and wanted “to borrow” some money for a hotel room!

Although I can’t write this without remembering a band of happily inebriated beggars who used to occupy a few slabs of pavement near Sol metro station and then moved on to Callao. They would huddle on their cardboard surrounded by hand-written signs soliciting financial donations “por cerveza”, “por ron” and “por whisky”. They were always laughing and having a joke with the passing crowd. Any tourist amused enough to want to take a photo of this carefree bunch would suddenly see through his view-finder one of the men holding aloft a sign that bore the legend, “Fotos – 2 euros”. Unfortunately, other members of their ilk are not so amicable.

Wherever you look in Madrid, the “honest unemployed” are setting themselves up with an act to appeal for the tourist euro. The city is awash with musicians, performance artists, jugglers and other street entertainers. In several cases it would seem that “talent” is a minimal requirement, but at least they are giving something in return for whatever few coins they receive. But the beggars are just a pain.

This is something the authorities need to address urgently. The beggars seem to operate unmolested by the police, unless a café calls them in specifically. For me they represent a more unpleasant face than the pick-pockets of the Rastro. At least that’s an “honest” crime that does not seek to exploit the good nature of a sympathetic, but ultimately deceived public.

Benamahoma, near Arcos de la Frontera - click to enlarge
The perfect summer … a hot Andaluz afternoon, the Sierra shimmering in the background, the cool blue of the village pool…

Wow, Wednesday’s post on how the Spanish don’t tend to use please and thank you too much is looking like the most commented on post ever here at Notes from Spain, partly due to the incensed rantings of one who names himself simply ‘Spaniard’. Over at La-Madrid Carl asks “Am I alone in noticing that posts that are even remotely critical of the Spanish – just drives them crazy?”

No, you are not alone, funnily enough I noticed that too! I remember a post about Spanish stereotypes at the Big Chorizo blog that had the locals hopping mad and throwing insults around like, well, like tomatoes at the Tomatina fiesta! Meanwhile, at Thoughts from Galicia, Colin Davies notes “I’m occasionally taken to task by Spanish readers for being too negative about Spain” (and then goes on to tell two of the nicest Spain stories I have heard for a long time!)

So, the question is, are the Spanish very good at taking criticism? …and I think the answer is often No. Not when it comes to issues of national character and particularly not when the criticism seems to come from outsiders. I think this is the key. While many of the Spanish are happy to moan for hours about politicians, corruption, the obras in Madrid, electrical black outs, whatever, when a foreigner dares to say anything that appears even remotely critical about Spain, you can be sure there will be a ‘Spaniard’ who will turn up and fly totally off the handle. The fact that said foreigner has lived here for years and clearly loves their adoptive country becomes irrelevant - criticism shall not be allowed.

What does that mean? I don’t know, but I know that comments by the likes of our friend ‘Spaniard’ clearly don’t do the Spanish any favours. There are lots of ‘Spaniards’ in Spain, but let’s not assume they are all so over-sensitive. What do you think?

A while back we looked at different ways in which the Spanish might be defined as rude, an accusation that is commonly held against them. It is time to revisit the subject, and consider the often cited case of please and thank you.

Many visitors to Spain, and people that spend a while living in the country, can’t understand why the Spanish don’t appear to use por favor, please, and gracias, thank you, as often as say the British or the Americans do in everyday conversation. The result is that a simple request for the salt to be passed at the dinner table can seem to be rude when it isn’t accompanied by a ‘please’ at the end. Ever seen a Spaniard say please or thank you to a waiter, a barman or shop keep? You are most likely to hear something along the lines of ‘Give me a coffee’, or ‘Can you bring us the bill?’, with not a ‘please’ in sight.

The Spanish will argue that we, the anglo’s, use please and thank you so much as to make these words almost redundant, and that when they speak, the ‘please’ is usually implied. Lexical crutches such as anda, or cuando puedas, which might be added to a request for a coffee, or the bill, certainly do infer friendliness, but often these are forgotten as well.

Does this make the Spanish rude, or just different? I suspect the answer is the latter, but sometimes, when you find yourself on the end of a particularly direct and ‘please’-less request, it seems like they are as rude as hell. So, all I can do is echo a request that, paradoxically, is often used by the Spanish when they think someone could have shown a bit more respect: can we have un poquito de por favor? A little bit more please.

Thanks.

I didn’t like Malaga when I first visited the city a few years ago, but now, several trips later, I think it might be one of the most interesting cities in Andalusia (in fact, along with Cadiz, Madrid, and San Sebastian, I think it might be one of my top four cities in Spain.) Once you get away from the traffic-heavy thoroughfare next to the port, the old town that extends away from the cathedral is a fascinating mix of polished shopping streets, and crumbling alleys and hidden plazas, filled with beautiful people taking life easy and having a really good time!

Here are a few things we would recommend if you find yourself wandering around this classic provincial capital:

1. Have a glass of Malaga Seco (fine local dry sherry) in the Antigua Casa de Guardia, at Alameda Principal 18. Drinks are poured from rows of vast oak barrels, and your tab is written in chalk on the heavy wooden bar top. They really don’t make places like this any more. Careful with the Seco… a few glasses of this can be fatal later! See our Google Malaga map below for directions.

2. Have a drink at the Parador de Gibralfaro, high on the hill next to the Moorish Alcazar. The views over the city (photo above), the port, the sea, and the bullring (photo below), are worth the price of the beer. You can walk up there from the old town, but personally I’d take a taxi up, and walk back (there are two Paradores in Malaga - make sure the taxi driver doesn’t take you to the Golf Parador instead.) If your budget can stretch to it, then sleep up here as well, it’s one of the nicest Paradors in Spain.

3. Not sure where to have dinner? Everywhere looks a bit toursity? Have a plate of Jamon Iberico, fried eggs and chips, at Restaurante Mariano, tucked away in a corner at Plaza de Carbon 2 (see map below). There’s more about this heavenly culinary experience in a previous post.

4. Pick up a twist of fried almonds from the friendly guy outside Cafe Bar Central in the Plaza de la Constitucion. Best damn almonds on the planet!

5. Wander aimlessly through the back alleys and plazas to the North West of Calle Marquis de Larios (see the blue shaded area on our map below). The streets here often seem to have fallen into a beautiful state of disrepair (as strange as that may sound). This must be one of the few remaining places in the world where you’ll find large shops dedicated to selling nothing but buttons, or fiesta dresses, or fans…

6. Head down to the city beach at dusk to eat sardines grilled at a wood fire which, improbably, has been lit in an old wooden boat!

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Do you know the city? What would you add to the list?

Wow, I think I have just experienced my first earthquake, in Madrid! Sitting on the sofa next to Marina, 9.45 ish, wishing I hadn’t had that last gin and tonic in some wonderful fiestas we stumbled across last night in Madrid’s La Latina barrio, and suddenly everything started shaking! The sofa was rumbling, the standard lamp was wobbling back and forth, Marina said, “Ben, stop doing that,” and I said “it’s not me! It’s a bloody earthqauke!!!” Wow.

Update: it was a 4.7 quake with the epicentre in Ciudad Real. News in Spanish