Cadiz Walkabout

A Spanish Barman who takes toast seriously

Morning in Cadiz begins with cafe' y tostada, coffee and toast. What you spread on your toast is up to you, and the variety is seemingly endless. Whether smeared with olive oil, butter and jam, or pig lard, toastada is how the day begins. My One was still sleepy, so I ventured out alone. The bar next to our Hostal had everything that I needed. There was a zinc-topped bar to belly up to, an assortment of early morning Spanish gents, and a proper barman behind the counter. Some of the regulars were already nursing shots of aguardiente with their coffee. The pungent smell of the firewater was a novel accompaniment to my brekkie. I was the only foreigner in the place. It was a fine dose of local culture with which to start the day. 

Second Breakfast al fresco

With My Love was up and moving, it was time to find an outdoor cafe'. Here in Southern Spain, coffee and drinks are never a problem. Ditto for bread and sweets. Woe betide the traveler, however, who misses the strange time windows for real food. Breakfast is, as mentioned, a coffee and toast sort of affair. There are local spots that offer a more meal-like brekkie, but don't get there late. The same is true for lunch. From noonish until two PM, lunch is a big deal. After two, well, it's back to coffee and bakery stuff. From two until about four, there is not much of anything, including an open store. Almost everything shuts up tight. From four until six, stores start to open up again. From six until eight PM, it is time to hit the bars for coffee or drinks. Dinner begins around eight PM at the earliest and can run until midnight. Get used to eating late or go hungry. 

Doggie pals are part of the cafe' scene.

No Spanish town complete without the local Mercado

Fueled and caffeinated, it was time for walkabout. Cadiz may be one of my new favorite walking cities. Many of the narrow streets and lanes are devoid of vehicular traffic. There is the occasional scooter or car to dodge, but they are slow-moving, and the drivers are polite. Many of the cobbled lanes are pedestrian only. Wander this way to the Atlantic, that way to Castillo San Sebastián, or get lost trying to find another small plaza. Now matter where one turns, there is something else to discover. Out on the promenades, there are wide-ranging views across the breakwaters and surf. Turn away from the water and the world becomes a tangle of narrow passageways. What I would not give for a time-machine and a trip back to Cadiz before the internal combustion engine was invented. As it is, Cadiz is itself a sort of time capsule. 

We found the local mercado and cruised the aisles of veg and fruit, meats and fish. I dreamed of buying crates of fresh fruits and fish to ship back to Vienna, especially the fish. The star of the show here is tuna, huge slabs of red tuna. But also on offer are a stunning variety of other seafood, from fresh sardines and multi-colored shrimp, to weird-looking skates and rays. Give me a tiny kitchen in Cadiz, a short walk to the mercado, and I would live a happy life. Well, I already live a happy life, but I suppose I could be even happier.

A lovely garden photographed in the worst light of the day. Sorry. Sorry Gus. Sorry.

There are wonderful parks along the Atlantic side of the old city, with exotic plants from Africa and the Tropics. Gravel walkways pass formal topiary gardens, strange Dragon Trees, and fat-bellied palms. Raucous parrots race about, squawking and carrying on. 

Statues of side-eyed virgins, dead heroes, or famous poets, adorn the plazas. Some of the plazas are intimate and quiet, while others are crammed with busy cafes. I love the Spanish custom of memorializing famous writers. Sure, they go in for bronze patriots as well, but it is a welcome sign of culture to erect a bronze bust of a modernist poet beside the long-dead heroes.

Step into the city and it is as if you have wanderered into a maze of canyons. The world is close and shadowed.

Step out of the narrow streets and the vistas across the huge space of the Atlantic Ocean are immense.

Ensalada Mixta and Carne Merchada.

Lunch time, Tapas time. There are two basic choices of lunch. One can find a tapas bar, which is a cinch, or one can look for a Menu del Dia sign. The Menu del Dia is, as the name suggests, a Preis Fixe menu with a few choices. It is usually a first plate, a second plate, drink and a dessert. Prices run about 7-10 Euro. It is a bit harder to find the Menu Del Dia joints, and harder still to find them at the elusive lunch hours. We seemed always to be a bit early or late. It is a good thing we have a nose for great tapas places.

Our lunch joint was a tiny bar, a place recommended for its great local food. From the outside, it looked like a dark and seedy bar. From the inside, it looked like a dark and seedy bar, but with a cute little girl be dandled by her day, the barman. It turned out to be a great place. The food was lovely, prepared by hand behind the bar, and the local folks were warm and friendly. Another treasure found!  

Nightfall in Cadiz.

We walked ourselves silly and sore, exploring every nook and cranny we could find. There are certainly cultural sights to see, museums, churches, and the like.  But the real joy of Cadiz lies in prowling the twisting lanes, secret courtyards, plazas and lush gardens. When all that stone has one feeling a little claustrophobic, a quick turn to the left or right and your world will open to a grand promenade.

Footsore and weary, we returned to our little Hostal room for a late siesta and a smoke on the balcony. By six PM, the streets and cafes are teeming with local folks out for drinks and socializing. It is time to grab the kids, head for the promenade, meet the friends and neighbors. Walking about town, one sees a lot of friendly greeting going on. Cadiz is not really a city, but more of a big town. And the Old City is smaller still. There is a lot of cheek kissing, smiling, and arms thrown around shoulders. 

We roused ourselves and ventured out into the throng. Tonight, no tapas! We love tapas, but once in a while, a body needs a full plate of food to oneself. Thus, spoke My Heart, and her wish is as good as a command.  

Meat and Veg feast, Argentinian-style.

We went for the big splurge, the Argentinian Grill. There was no messing around. We ordered the mixed meat grill and the mixed veg grill. Believe it or not, that plate of veg in the photo is a half order, or medio racion. That's a good thing to know here in the land of funny little plates of food. There are three basic sizes of food, sometimes all for the same dish. Tapas, of course, is the small plate. Tapas is a good snack for one person, or a nice taste for two. Medio racion, or half-plate, is a larger plate, usually enough for two people to enjoy as a side. I don't now what a full racion looks like, but it must be a hell of a platter. Three medio racions makes close to a full meal for two people. Or just order little plates until you cannot eat any more.

Dinners run late in Spain and the nights run later. It was past bedtime before we got near a bed. There was one more little street to explore, one more corner to turn. Eventually we made it back to the Hostal. Another day of walkabout, another day well-spent. Tomorrow we would venture further south down the Atlantic coast of Spain, but not until the later afternoon. But that is the stuff of the next blog post. From Cadiz (remember to hiss it!) Spain, it's Ciao for Now!