Introductions

Al-Mudawar Rural Casa is an unremarkeable stucco building on a quiet side street in Al Modovar del Rio, 25km west of Cordoba, Spain. I opened the engraved and thickly banded metal door into a dim entryway with whitewashed walls, beautiful brown and blue tiled floors, and an arched exit facing a bright central courtyard. My room is simple but equally beautiful. Two twin mattresses are supported by a black wrought iron frame, the bars of the headboard twisting and twinning like snakes and vines. It´s flanked with matching 3-tiered night stands, each topped by small, red-shaded lamps matching perfectly the bright red of the bedspread. Facing is a tall bureau in finely-grained wood matching the brown-tiled floor. Over the bed hangs a finely wrought lamp, which itself hangs below a broad star of David, finely carved in wood stained to match the floor and bureau.

So often in my travels for work, nothing but my pants and shirts leave the suitcase. Unpacking all my tshirts, socks, and even shoes into this many-drawered bureau, knowing I´d be here long enough for the bother, was a surprising pleasure.

After all this, the bathroom is the true beauty. Special attention has been given to the stucco here, with small diamonds pressed into a not-quite-random pattern. The tile rises half-way up the wall, white bordered with deep green in three different styles. The wash stand is tiled in a lighter green. It supports a shining copper spout above a clearly hand-made bowl painted in swirling blue, orange, red, and two shades of green. Above it all hangs another hand-wrought lamp, this one set with finely-etched orange glass.

After a quick shower to wash of the grime of travel (with ample pressure and hot water, thankfully), I set out to find some food. This turned out to be my first encounter with the famous Spanish siesta. The restaurants and shops nearby were almost all closed. I had thought that the siesta lasted from 3pm-5pm, and perhaps that´s true in the cities, but here it is a rather longer affair. The folks of smaller towns prefer, it turns out, to take their ease until 9pm. My attempt to fulfill biological needs thus foiled, I took a bit more circuitious route back to the inn. Perhaps related to the siesta tradition, I found the people immediately very friendly. I had to tell at least three old ladies "no habla español" after they just walked up to be and started talking!

Eventually I made it back to Al-Mudawar, whereupon I decided taht wine was the best option to fill my stomach until the restaurants opened again. This proved pleasantly efficient, although booze as food is a project of diminishing returns. I felt fine (read: drunk) for a while, but eventually the hunger catches up even more fiercely than before. I wandered out of the hotel at about 8:30, hoping that someone might take pity on the confused Americano. Turns out that they´re strict about their siestas. I was allowed to sit down early, even got a beer for my trouble, but no menu was provided until about 10 after 9.

The wait turned out to be well worth it. I started with a gespacho, "Andaloz" style. It was creamier than the usual, luxuriously so, and came initially with no other vegetables at all. To this were added fresh tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and onions, leaving them crisp and tastey. This soup was thoroughly delicious, outshining the main course by a wide margin. The latter was baked cod, drizzled with herbed olive oil and a roasted red sauce (I think). It was good, very good, but was nothing I hadn´t had before, and too rich besides. The soup, on the other hand, was creamy beyond any tomato soup I´d had before while remaining crisp and bright as any salad I can remember.

I enjoyed all of this in the midst of a growing street festival. My table was under almost constant assault from small children, who ran freely down the steep street and from one house to the next, including the restaurant on whose patio I was relaxing. I left the fiesta behind and headed home, thoroughly exhausted and pleasantly full. I fell hard asleep to the cacophony of nightime birds and running children in the street outside my window and the neighborhood all around.