Transcription
COPY Letter #5 At Granada on Columbus Day
Oct. 12, 1952 vs Oct. 12, 1942 1492
Dear Family,-
What a day!!! Never will we have a Columbus Day that will measure up to this one. This is the close of our third week. I ought to start with Madrid, take you to Segovia, then to Avila, then to Toledo and end the week in Granada. But Granada must come first, and you’ll soon see why.
For those of you who are a bit hazy on your history, you may remember that Columbus tried for several years to get an audience with King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella to tell them his conception of the world being round and how he could sail west and reach the Far East by a new and short route. But the King and Queen were too busy with their siege of Granada to be bothered with a crackpot. They had built a camp or a “military headquarters” outside of Granada which the Queen named Santa Fe (Holy Faith). When they had finally starved Granada into a surrender, and Columbus had started to walk to France to tell his story to the French sovereigns, Queen Isabella sent a messenger after him, heard his story and pawned her jewels to have him “sail west to the east” to bring riches to her kingdom. It was at Granada (or more accurately at Santa Fe) that she made the “Big Deal” with Columbus.
Yesterday afternoon, as we drove to Granada on the main road from Madrid, we came upon sign after sign painted in the road in big white letters, “Franco-Franco-Franco”. As we approached Granada there were arches built across the highway welcoming Franco. Once in the city we knew something special was going on, for the streets were so crowded with pedestrians we could hardly drive. Soldiers and traffic officers were busy controlling the crowds. Near the center of town a traffic officer would not let us continue up the main street. We asked for directions to the San Francisco Hotel. He finally made us understand that no one was allowed to go to the San Francisco, as the entire hotel had been taken over by Franco. A boy on a bicycle told the policeman he would take us to a hotel and the officer told us to follow the boy. We wound around through narrow side streets and found quarters in a third-rate hotel, the Continental. There we learned that Franco had come down to Granada to help them celebrate the 460th anniversary of the discovery of America.
This morning we had quite a time driving up to the Alhambra. Traffic cops and soldiers were barring one street after another. When we finally reached our destination we were fortunate in getting an English speaking guide who spent the rest of the morning just with the three of us. It was the most interesting morning of our entire trip, but I’ll pass that by to get to our Columbus Day story. A large crew of gardeners and sweepers were working away, getting everything spick-and-span for Franco’s visit. The public was barred from the grounds at noon. We went over to the Generalife [sic] for about an hour and then started down the hill to go to our hotel for lunch. Either we drove through the gardens the wrong way, or some soldiers weren’t posted to stop us, but suddenly we saw soldiers running toward us and motioning us over to the side of the deserted street. Then up this deserted street, deserted except for soldiers, came a parade of Cadillacs and classy foreign cars, all loaded with “Top Brass”. After twenty or more cars had whizzed by, there was a big escort of soldiers on motorcycles, and then Franco himself and his wife drove by. We were the only car parked on the street. The soldiers along the curb turned their backs and faced the walls of the buildings. The sidewalks were so narrow I had the feeling that the soldiers were standing against the walls themselves. Why they were not allowed to watch their mighty Franco pass I do not know.
In about a minute it was all over and then we got out of there in a hurry. But once we were off the hill and back in town, we could scarcely drive for the crowds in the streets. The streets were decorated with the Spanish flag by the thousands, with arches across the main streets about every 100 feet or so.
This afternoon the whole town went to the bull fight. Soldiers everywhere. Franco and his wife sat in a big reserved section full of top brass and soldiers. Bill and Jeanne sat up in the 9th row, but to get good pictures I took a chance on sitting where there were a number of empty seats right next to the barrier. No one claimed the seats so I had a ring-side box location. For my first - and my last - bull fight, I was too close. I could see too much of the gory details. For anyone seeing his first bull fight I would recommend a seat in the top row of the arena. I’d like to tell you how I got an entirely new understanding of the “art” of Spain’s national sport, the long established “rules of the game” which were first drawn up in Ronda (which we shall visit) and how the crowd shouts approval when skill and grace is used in following these rules, but instead I’ll mention just two incidents.
One was when the bull jumped over the barrier and ran along the narrow passageway between the barrier and the first row of box seats. Immediately the gate where the bulls make their entrance was swung open and a badly frightened dog ran out into the arena, followed by Mr. Bull. Then the gate was closed and you should have seen that poor little dog trying to squeeze under the gate to get back to safety. The crowd was shouting (I imagine to open the gate and let the dog through) but in a few seconds, which seemed like a painfully long time, the dog wriggled under the gate, the tension was relieved and everyone laughed.
The other incident was quite different. A boy, probably 16 or 17 years old, jumped from the first row of box seats across the narrow passage way to the top of the barrier and down into the arena and ran out toward the bull with a homemade red cape he was carrying. Several Matadors got in front of the boy and distracted the bull while the boy was pleading to be allowed to perform and show his skill. Several attendants rushed out into the ring and led the boy over to where I was sitting under the reserved section occupied by Franco & Company. The boy got down on his knees and put his hands together as in prayer and looked up to the Franco box, pleading for a chance to perform. Mrs. Franco arose and waved her handkerchief to the boy. The crowds cheered. Then a Matador put his arm on the boy’s shoulder and talked to him and reluctantly the boy accompanied the Matador to the nearest gate. The crowd gave the boy a big ovation.
That night the throngs in the streets took over. Autos were barred from many of the streets and the streetcars moved along slowly in the thick mass of humanity. The arches across the streets were strung with electric lights of different colors. It seemed as bright as day. The sidewalk cafes had extended their tables out into the streets, but even with this increased seating capacity it was very difficult to find an empty table. Finally Bill and Jeanne were able to get two seats together while I strolled around getting some night shots. I hope they turn out, but am afraid they’ll be badly under-exposed.
One reason I have gone to such length in telling about this “Franco Day” is that it was so different from the kind of celebration we would have if the President of the United States were to come to Akron. Imagine having several thousand soldiers in Akron, with Main Street restricted to pedestrians only, and no pedestrians or autos allowed to get within a block or two of the Mayflower Hotel.
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Now briefly to touch on the third week as a whole. Madrid is too good a story to try to outline briefly, so I’ll save that for our “Slide Show”. Segovia, with its famous aqueduct built by the Romans without cement (and still carrying water as it has for nearly 2,000 years) and with its cathedral and Alcazar, was made extra interesting by a boy who tried hard to speak English and who would not accept any pay for the two hours he acted as our guide. Avila, the first walled town Judy, John and I visited on our European tour, brought back so many memories that I’d like to write a separate letter to Judy and John just about our one day and night there. Then Toledo was so fascinating we should have spent two days there instead of one. But best of all was Granada, which brought our third week to a close with a grand climax.
Now we are starting out on the last week of our trip. We can’t see how it can surpass this third week, but we are counting on our few days in Portugal to be the best part of our entire trip.
Yours for more time to travel,
WPS & Co.Transcriber
Cindi RokeLanguage
English
