Wining in the South of Spain

Everything in Córdoba's histocal center is within easy walking distance, meaning that: a) it's pretty much impossible to get truly lost, but that b) you can cover all the points of interest in a day - maybe a day and a half if you do as the locals do and partake in the afternoon siesta. Faced with the prospect of spending my last full day tromping around the same old streets, lovely as they are, I decided I'd be better off heading somewhere else. My hostel highlighted several possible daytrips, but naturally I chose the one labeled "wine tasting."

Nearby Montilla, just an hour's bus ride away, is the sort of place that a Google search does not yield satisfactory step-by-step instructions of how to get there and lengthy discussions of what to do once you've arrived; where even while walking on one of the main streets, in breaks between buildings you catch glimpses of rolling hills of vineyards that supply all the wineries (or bodegas, as they're called here); where when you enter said bodega, the lady in the tienda will ask you if you speak English, shortly followed by, "Sorry, tours are only in Spanish." (I think it goes without saying that, additionally, in this sort of setting you can wander about as you please feeling reasonably sure that you are the only colored person within city limits. I did meet a friendly South African couple during the tasting, but they were white). 

With seven years' worth of Spanish buried beneath French, tucked away in the crevices of my brain alongside trig and mitosis and all those other things you learn in school but almost never use in real life, I wasn't too worried about the tour not being in English. Not so much because they taught us about wine in AP Spanish, but, I mean, once you've toured one winery you've pretty much toured them all. The process remains essentially the same and the only thing that's different is the tasting. Or so I thought when I purchased my ticket at the Bodega Alvear.

But, as it turned out, they do things a little differently in the south of Spain. Whereas at most of the other wineries I've been to - in Napa Valley, Portugal and France - wines are differentiated by the type of grape they contain. Here? They can make 5 wildly different wines using just one: the white Pedro Ximénez variety. I don't know how this feat is accomplished; it was all in Spanish.

If you go: Pick your bodega wisely, as by the time you finish the tour and tasting, everything shuts down for the siesta and, unlike most other businesses, the bodegas won't reopen later. Maybe this is just a summer thing because July is low season; I'm not sure because Google wouldn't tell me. 

Converging Legacies in Córdoba

To paraphrase a new friend I made at my hostel in Córdoba, a lot of how you experience a new city comes down to chance - the people who you end up spending time with, whether your visit coincides with a local event, whether you lose or have anything stolen, etc. I had high expectations for Barcelona, but didn't like it as much as I thought I would. Valencia, on the other hand, I loved even though the only reason it was on my itinerary at all is that I once read it was the birthplace of paella.  

So, Córdoba: former seat of the Roman Empire, once the most populous city in the world during the time of the Islamic caliphate, and now one of the largest historical districts to be preserved as a UNESCO site. Arguably almost everyone here is a tourist (except for the people who run the shops, hotels, restaurants, etc.), which is one of the reasons I disliked Barcelona, but somehow they're much more diffuse; whereas trying to force me way through Park Guell or down La Rambla was enough to make me want to turn around and retreat to my apartment, nothing in Córdoba is ever crowded. Then again, coming here at this time of year requires a certain level of dedication as afternoon temperatures, without fail, exceed 100F and barely fall during the night. But, still, the vibe is a lot more chill. When I eat out I can leave my bag on the empty chair next to me and not worry about it getting snatched.  

From my limited understanding of the region's history, everyone wanted to live here at some point or another - the Romans, the Moors, the Jews and the Castilans. There is lasting evidence of each of these groups (e.g. the Roman bridge and other ruins, one of Spain's only three - yes, three - synagogues...), but the most outstanding vestiges of the past belong, without a doubt, to the Moors, thanks to the Mosque-Cathedral and Alcázar of the Christian Monarchs.

Returning to that relationship between chance and travel, a few things that made Córdoba special despite me - again - having no preconceptions or plans beforehand: free outdoor film screenings almost every night, extremely cheap (or free) tapas that come with equally cheap drinks, and befriending a girl from California with whom I had great conversations (over said drinks and tapas - no, really, how great are tapas??) about cultural differences between Europe and the US, and how much we both miss the Bay Area. 

Below, some glimpses of the historical center. The rest on Flickr.