My Third Weekend

My third weekend, with much improved weather over the last, was full of activities for the tourist and non-tourist. It started off Friday night with a visit to the olive oil festival, held at Liberty Plaza in Reus. I went with Agustí and his family, and had the opportunity to taste a variety of oils. The plaza was lined with tents, each one occupied by a local cooperative handing out samples of their product to taste. These local blends truly are the pride of these small towns, each with characteristic color and taste. I tried to scrutinize each one and detect individual differences. With some I could, noticing particular fruitiness and acidity, but I can’t say that my palate has yet learned to distinguish the finer characteristics. Once I had had my fill, and because the night was chilly, I left the festival and returned to the residence hall to rest before my next day’s outing – a trip to Tarragona.

As mentioned in a previous excerpt, I had visited Tarragona previously, with Núria and Davíd one evening when it was pouring rain. And for that reason, our sight-seeing was drastically curtailed. With hopes of better weather, we returned there one evening the following week. That night, the weather was cooperative, so they were able to direct me around the city and show me the major tourist destinations. This whetted my appetite to see these sites in the light, so I returned on my own, Saturday by train.

Tarragona is a modern city with a rich history. The Romans adopted Tarragona in the 2nd century B.C. as they were advancing their empire, and it became the main Roman city in Spain. The Emperor Augustus lived there for a time, and Pontius Pilate was born there. The Roman relics, including remains of the amphitheater, circus, surrounding city wall, among others are juxtaposed to modern apartment high rises, parks, and shops. The cathedral is described as ‘Romanesque-Gothic,’ and it is truly a sight to behold, with its beautifully managed courtyard and its architecturally awesome sanctuary. I walked the entire day, making my way from relic to relic. I only took time to rest to gaze from the perched balcony out over the Mediterranean. I don’t think there’s much more I can say about Tarragona except that the pictures are worth thousands of words.

On Sunday, Joan invited me to a luncheon, which was a concluding ceremony of the olive oil festival. Before the luncheon began, people were mixing and mingling. I was introduced to many people as ‘la americana,’ which made me feel a little self-conscious; nonetheless, I suppose that justified my reason for not talking much. One of the people to whom I was introduced was, in fact, the Counselor of Agriculture for Catalonia. He was a hefty man that mumbled with a thick Spanish accent, making him difficult to understand. When I extended my hand, he shook it with a firm grip, which I, of course, returned. He asked me about the olives in California, and I said that currently there aren’t many (in terms of oil production, which is the most important consideration here). But, I continued jovially, “pero, en el futuro…” and he laughed along with me, saying “ah, la competencia!” And that was how our discussion trailed off. Joan later told me at lunch that meeting the Counselor was certainly something to write home about. The luncheon itself was also a noteworthy experience, and something to which I had been looking forward. It was one of very few meals I’ve eaten outside the residence hall and station cafeterias, and it didn’t, by any means, disappoint. It was a multi-course meal. We started with appetizers of various deli meats and breads, all eaten with olive oil. I ate by example, putting olive oil on bread already having it but figuring I’d better given the company I was in. To not drench my bread in olive oil amongst people of the industry would be like asking for a vegetarian plate at a beef council’s dinner. It was followed by two other plates, the main entrée being a leg of lamb. I’ve never eaten much lamb, but it wasn’t bad. And this was followed by dessert. Perhaps the most profound part of the meal was the drinks. During the appetizers and dinner, there were three wines to choose from, and when a bottle went empty, the waiters immediately brought another. I, being ‘la americana’ of the table was poured a sample of each one, as those at my table insisted that I fully experience Spanish culture. Thinking that would be the end of my drinking, they then served champagne with dessert and after dessert, I was brought a Kahlua (sp?) and cream. Whew! That was certainly more drinking than I had planned on doing, but in situations such as that, it is best to follow the example. Plus, after dessert people started lighting up cigarettes and cigars, and the air in the lofty room turned a hazy grey. I sipped my Kahlua slowly, as sticking my nose into that tall, narrow glass was the only breath of clean air I was getting. When all was said and done, I was comfortably full and had a nice walk back to the residence hall through the park to digest, air out, and sober up.

Visit my Shutterfly website for pictures of Tarragona.