Transcription
Letter #7
COPY Seville, Oct. 16, 1952
Dear Family:
Tomorrow we leave Spain to spend the last three days of our trip in Portugal. The story of our farewell to Spain deserves a letter by itself, so here goes:
Malaga (accent on the first syllable) was our first stop after our military day in Granada with “Dictator” Franco. Malaga was warm and balmy and tropical, like Miami Beach. After wearing woolen underwear, winter pajamas, two pairs of wool socks, a sweater, a lumberman’s shirt and an overcoat in Switzerland and in the French Alps, and after cool fall weather in and around Madrid, I was revelling [sic] in the warmth of this Mediterranean resort. But poor Jeannie was having to stay fairly close to her hotel room. She had eaten something in Granada that gave her the well known [sic] “traveller’s [sic] trouble”. In Spain we have had to get our liquid requirements from soup, “cafe con leche”, wine and bottled water. In Granada I ordered water “non gaseoso [sic] – natural” but they brought in a bottle of carbonated mineral water. Maybe that was what did it, but Bill and I both drank our full share of a large bottle and weren’t affected. At any rate, while Bill and Jeanne loafed around the hotel, I went out on my own. That night, while watching the street life from a sidewalk cafe, a gypsie [sic] began showing me her basket full of wares. I kept saying “ No, No,” but I could not get rid of her. Finally I bought a trinket at half the price she originally asked, and was left in peace. The next morning I left the hotel before the children were up, had my breakfast up at the old ruined fort on the mount overlooking the city and had a good time exploring the ruins. Old forts and castles that have been “sympathetically restored” as a rule don’t excite my imagination as much as the ones that are neglected ruins.
About eleven o’clock we checked out so as to get to Ronda in time for lunch. We had been warned that the road was steep and winding up over a high mountain range, but we love spectacular mountain roads, so the steeper and more winding the better. About half way up the mountain our motor konked [sic] out. After working on it with no success, I started walking down the mountain to get someone to come to our rescue, when a car came along that was going to Ronda. So they took me along -- there was room for only one additional passenger, as their baby and luggage filled the rear seat. What a ride that was! The Sierra Nevada range that rises abruptly from the Mediterranean along the southern coast of Spain is higher than the Pyrenees along the northern border. Once over the pass we began making better time, but it was after three o’clock before we reached romantic Ronda, nestled in a valley with mountains all around. Judy and John, you know how you fell in love with Grindelwald. Well, Ronda is a dream spot compared to Grindelwald. Its setting, perched on a high cliff, is dramatic.
It took me about an hour to get a Ford mechanic and a taxi and a box of lunch. The taxi was a rickety old hack. On a particularly steep climb it sputtered and coughed and came to a stop. I thought we might have to get another car to come to the rescue of the taxi and our car. But the mechanic soon had the taxi wheezing again, and we made the grade up over the pass. You can imagine how relieved B & J were when we hoved [sic] in sight about six o’clock. The lunch of sandwiches and wine was a poor excuse for a meal, but the kids were about starved.
In about a half hour the mechanic had our motor purring like new. We headed back to the Mediterranean and took the level coast road to Gibraltar and Algeciras (across the bay), arriving there about ten. What a day!
The next morning old Gibraltar Rock was hidden in low hanging clouds, so we pushed on to Seville. Before leaving, however, we had the experience of having two boys trying to sell us Swiss wrist watches, “automatic”, self-winding and with a stop watch movement. They started off at $20., then came down to $15, to $10 and finally to $5. We figured they were stolen goods.
Jeanne’s “traveller’s [sic] trouble” had been lingering on, so at Seville we called in an English speaking doctor. He had me get some pills at a nearby “Farmacie” [sic], quite different from our type of drugstore, and prescribed rest, so this morning Jeannie stayed in her room while Bill and I took a partially guided tour through the largest Gothic cathedral in Europe, climbed up the famous Giralda Tower and had another guided tour through the Alcazar, built by the Moors and lived in by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. It can’t be classed with the Alhambra, but the gardens were more elaborate.
In the afternoon B & J took a stroll through the old section of Seville while I covered the water front, got a janitor to take me up onto the roof of a high building to get some pictures of the cathedral, and then I had some experiences getting lost and finding my way back to the hotel. Seville is given much more space in the guidebooks than Toledo, but Toledo is more ancient in atmosphere. I’ll take Toledo.
This evening the doctor called again. After getting Jeanne’s report, he was satisfied she was well out of her trouble, so tomorrow we start off bright and early so as to get to Lisbon before dark. It will be the longest single drive of our entire trip.
Spain has been wonderfully interesting. It is dirty, impoverished and without a hopeful future. But it is rich in history. Before the defeat of the Spanish Armada, Spain was the dominating power in the world. If the U.S.A. does not stop the slide down the road to socialism and bankruptcy, in a few more centuries we may be a weak nation, ruled by a dictator, with soldiers in evidence everywhere to keep down a revolt of the masses. Next November 4th we’ll find out if the majority of voters have the wisdom and courage to build for a sound and solvent future, or if they want to continue to borrow from the future in order to have it easy now. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too”.
Yours for learning a lesson from history,
“Uncle” WillardTranscriber
Cindi RokeLanguage
English
