I have decided to revisit some of my favorite meals and foods here in the Costa Blanca area of Spain:
I have decided to revisit some of my favorite meals and foods here in the Costa Blanca area of Spain:
Another great day trip in the Costa Blanca area of Spain is a day in Jijona, a short drive in the hills northwest of Alicante. Jijona, also known in Valenciano as Xixona, is famous for its Turrón, an almond-based nougat.
Turrón is particularly popular at Christmas time in Spain. Jijona has a yearly four-day Christmas festival, which obviously features turrón, along with other Christmas- and winter-oriented gifts, like hats, scarfs, toys and more.
Turrón is typically made from finely ground almonds, egg whites, honey and sugar. It comes in a variety of textures and forms. There is one with a soft paste-like consistency, which, to me, had a gritty, not pleasing texture. There are soft and hard turrón bars, with pieces of almonds. I saw chocolate-flavored turrón, turrón-flavored gins and liqueurs, and many other non-traditional additions. Samples are generously provided from the Christmas parade of wooden stands located in the central market. There are also other Christmas-related exhibits, and food/tapas booths with adjacent seating where people can rest their feet, and enjoy a snack and beverage.
The Moors brought almond farming and turrón to Spain during their occupation of the area. During the 16th century, King Felipe II praised turrón, which increased its popularity. Historically, there were a few main families who dominated the turrón market. These decaying family mansions feature beautiful architecture and are visible on one of the main streets in Jijona: Monerris Planelles family home, Rovira family home, and Aracil family home. Only turrón made in Jijona and Alicante can receive the official seal of authenticity, “Consejo Regulador de Jijona y Turrón de Alicante.” There are tours available at the turrón museum and factory. Several other areas have a similar type of nougat like turrón, including Catalonia (Spain), France and Sicily.
There are other interesting things to see in Jijona including historical churches and a convent, the remains of a castle (destroyed in the Spanish War of Succession), “and snow wells” (thick walled round buildings located in the cool Carrasqueta mountain range which came into use in the 18th century to store snow for making ice cream.) In August, there is a Moros y Cristianos festival, which are very popular in the province of Alicante. Parking is typically a fair distance from the touristic areas, but are well-marked and on an easy, gradual incline.
As I am planning a trip to Venice and Paris soon with my middle son and am in the process of making transportation reservations, I am reminded of our disastrous overnight train ride from Lyon France to Venice.
I had always fantasized about a nostalgic overnight train trip. Thus, on my last trip to Europe before moving to Spain, I was determined to realize that overnight dream on the leg from Lyon, the gastronomic capital of France, to Venice, Italy. Admittedly, I had trouble figuring out exactly how to book the rail trip over the internet, so I eventually enlisted the more competent staff from the travel department of my credit card. Even so, it took them considerable effort to negotiate the details.
I was ecstatic when they were able to book a sleeper compartment for the two of us. The cost for the compartment was more than it would have been for both of us to fly from Lyon to Venice, but then that wouldn’t have been much of adventure. Little did we know what an adventure it would be.
We excitedly boarded the connecter train in Lyon which took us to Dijon where we were to transfer to our “sleeper” compartment. Alas, due to the late hour, none of the shops in the train station were open, so my plans to buy Dijon mustard from its town of origin was foiled. Perhaps that was an omen.
After boarding, we expectantly made our way with our suitcases through the jostling, narrow corridor toward our special place. When we opened the door we were shocked to see two people already sleeping in the compartment. They appeared just as surprised as we were, but since they didn’t speak English, we couldn’t be sure of what they said.
In spite of the language barrier, they kindly arose, helping us with our luggage into this micro area and then showing us how to convert the seating area on our side into two beds. The thin back of the seating area was raised to be horizontal above the bottom seat. The top “bed” appeared to hang perilously from the straps which allegedly supported it.
So much for my romantic notion of a luxurious, relaxing overnight rail trip. Now it was just about survival. I decided my best option was to head for the train’s bar to drink my way into a somnambulant state. After about an hour into imbibing in the train’s dining car, the train came to an abrupt stop. We sat motionless for an hour and a half. Meanwhile, the lights inside the train flickered and then went completely out.
After the train finally resumed moving and the lights came back on, we inquired around as to what had occurred. No official word, but other passengers related that here was some suspected illegal activity and that when the train stopped, those allegedly involved fled. At least those suspects weren’t my cellmates…I mean roommates.
Weary, we finally proceed to the room where we are greeted by the loud snores of our rather corpulent male roommate. I barely slept, but my son demonstrated one of the benefits of being a young adult male—being able to sleep anywhere.
As daylight broke, I stumbled to the communal bathroom to freshen up and change clothes. Obviously we slept in our regular clothes due to the unexpected roommate situation. Yet another surprise awaited me–a flooded, filthy bathroom. Guess I wouldn’t be changing my clothes or spending any unnecessary time in that area.
At least with the sunlight, we were able to enjoy the bucolic scenery of the Veneto, with its rows of grapevines, and villas dotting the countryside against the backdrop of the craggy Dolomite Mountains. As we approached Venice, I was thrilled to unexpectedly see one of the Palladian villas of UNESCO-fame. When I shared this information with parents travelling with young children, instead of thanking me, the mother corrected my pronunciation. Killjoy. For what it’s worth, much later, I learned my pronunciation was correct.
Here is my article about Spain which was just published in Insiders Abroad:
I love most things about living in Spain, but customer service is not one of them. I have even contended they should remove the Spanish words for customer service, “atención al cliente,” from the lexicon. I have previously recounted my problems in receiving packages with my personal belongings from California. When I first reported no monetary value for the old personal items mailed to me, the Spanish authorities returned the package to the U.S. I tried unsuccessfully twice more to have my belongings sent. The last time, I completed all the requirements within the mandated time period, paid nearly 100 Euros in customs fees, and they still returned my package to California. By this time, all the potentially breakable items had broken. I never received the refund I requested. One package I did eventually receive was gaping open and the contents from the top of the box were missing; the Spanish postal service was not even professional enough to tape it closed. Then the postal worker who “delivered” the box claimed it was heavy and asked me to help carry it into my apartment.
If I mail order something from the U.S., there are huge import taxes, but there are some things worth paying extra for that I cannot get here in Spain. I have also mail ordered items from Spanish companies, and more often than not, the couriers claim they tried to deliver my package, even when I had been home the whole day. When I call the number they provide for the supposed missed delivery, they argue with me, saying they did come to my place and ring my doorbell. They are never wrong, and never apologize. One agent insisted they had a photo of the courier at my door, but when I asked them to send it, I was told they could not.
My friends and I have had similar difficulties when using a taxi. Some drivers will ignore directions I provide to avoid traffic snarls. They may bark at you for having an inadequate command of Spanish. The other day, our cab driver from our town of Altea was unfamiliar with any of the streets or major landmarks in our village.
Most of the time the food here is great, but there are occasions when the restaurant serves sub-par food. If they ask how the food was, and you give an honest assessment, most of the time, I have received the blank “Bambi in headlights” look, with no offer of any reparations. Once, when I tried to return or exchange a podiatry device which broke after one use, the pharmacist looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and said there is no guarantee on products they sell. WHAT?!
I recently learned of an even more ridiculous incident. A woman bought a pair of shoes, and when she got home and looked at them, she discovered they had given her two different sizes. When she went to correct the error, with receipt in hand, they insisted they had made no mistake, even suggesting she may have gone to another store to buy another pair to make a mismatched set. Her husband had no better success in attempting to rectify what should have been a simple exchange, accompanied by an apology.
And I won’t even start on confounding, changing requirements of the government bureaucracies in getting required documentation for a visa, registering your living address, getting a bank account and more. There is even a hilarious videos representative of many people’s exasperating experiences, which I have previously viewed on YouTube, although it seemed to have been removed when I tried to find it.
My recommendation in Spain is to remember, The client is always wrong.
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