La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
I got some culture yesterday. The dizzies weren’t too bad, so in the afternoon I ventured out for a 22-minute walk to the Museum of Fine Arts. It took more than 22 minutes because I had to explore and take pictures along the way. It was a day filled with walking. Housed in the former Charity Hospital which was built in the 15th century and active into the 19th century, the museum was established in 1843. The collection is small but a pleasure to explore with an eclectic mix of art and artists. The hospital was built around a central courtyard, as was the custom.
Across the courtyard now is the Museum of Julio Romero de Torres, a famous local artist (and one of my favorites) which adjoins the artist’s family’s former home. His father, Rafael Romero Barros, was the caretaker and conservator-restorer (from 1862) of the Museum of Fine Arts.
Enough history. It’s time to begin sharing the more than 150 photos I took on my rounds yesterday. I’ll start today with the exteriors beginning with my arrival at the Plaza del Potro (above). The plaza goes back to the 14th century when it was the site of the annual fair and was an area where horses were sold. Potro means colt or foal.
San Geraldo made torrijas this morning! A popular Spanish treat most common during Easter week. Click here to learn about them. They’re perfection. I took pictures of the kitchen after the hurricane. SG would not allow photos of himself. He didn’t look much better than the kitchen. Or as we used to say, he looked like who-did-it-and-ran.
Ayer tuve un poco de cultura. El mareo no fue tan fuerte, así que por la tarde me aventuré a dar un paseo de 22 minutos hasta el Museo de Bellas Artes. Tardé más de 22 minutos porque tuve que explorar y tomar fotos por el camino. Fue un día lleno de caminatas. Ubicado en el antiguo Hospital de la Caridad, construido en el siglo XV y en funcionamiento hasta el siglo XIX, el museo se fundó en 1843. La colección es pequeña, pero es un placer explorarla, con una mezcla ecléctica de arte y artistas. El hospital se construyó alrededor de un patio central, como era costumbre.
Al otro lado del patio ahora se encuentra el Museo de Julio Romero de Torres, un famoso artista local (y uno de mis favoritos), que colinda con la antigua casa de la familia del artista. Su padre, Rafael Romero Barros, fue el conserje y conservador-restaurador (desde 1862) del Museo de Bellas Artes.
Basta de historia. Es hora de empezar a compartir las más de 150 fotos que tomé en mi recorrido de ayer. Empezaré hoy con los exteriores, empezando por mi llegada a la Plaza del Potro (arriba). La plaza data del siglo XIV, cuando era sede de la feria anual y un lugar donde se vendían caballos.
¡San Geraldo hizo torrijas esta mañana! Un dulce popular español, muy común durante la Semana Santa. Haz clic aquí para saber más sobre ellas. Son perfectas. Tomé fotos de la cocina después del Huracán Jerry. SG no permitió que le sacaran fotos. No se veía mucho mejor que la cocina. O como solíamos decir, parecía alguien-que-lo-hizo-y-salió-corriendo.
• La mujer sentada en la fuente estuvo allí 20 minutos hablando por teléfono sobre lo que estaba cocinando para la cena. Me arranqué el resto del pelo. (Pero la cena sonaba deliciosa e incluía lomo de cerdo, vino dulce, y especias moriscas.)
• Entrada del Museo de Bellas Artes.
• Entrada del Museo de Julio Romero de Torres.
Click the thumbnails to begin to become more cultured.
Haga clic en las miniaturas para comenzar a ser más culto.
What a beautiful building/property!
LOL to that woman on phone!!
happy your ‘dizzies’ are subsiding somewhat.
Jim:
I’m not constantly dizzy (although some might disagree), so I enjoy myself when I’m not.
“I got some culture yesterday. The dizzies weren’t too bad,” yeah, culture makes me dizzy too. 😵💫
David:
You and I are dizzy regularly!
Such an astonishingly beautiful place! We must come see it! And breakfast looks wonderful too…
David:
The torrijas are an any time of day treat!
I would make a joke about how I am already cultured- like buttermilk- but it’s not that funny.
I feel sure though that your photos have helped. As would a few torrijas. I am sure they were well worth the hurricane.
Ms. Moon
Ms. Moon:
I thought it was funny. The torrijas were so worth the hurricane. I’ll clean up after him any time.
I checked out your link to the torrijas. They look delicious. I then when down the internet rabbit hole of looking for recipes. I don’t think I will make them as I am trying to watch my weight, but my mouth can still water. You certainly live in a beautiful city.
Michael:
The range of recipes is astounding. Any that call torrijas “Spanich French Toast” should be ignored. If you eat them quickly, they have no calories.
I did see a Spanish French Toast recipe as I was perusing the internet.
Michael:
I didn’t realize the recipe I shared was in Spanish. I’d be glad to send you SG’s recipe, if you want it.
I’d love the recipe, but don’t go to the trouble of sending it. My husband doesn’t eat sweets and I am trying to lose 10 lbs. I have no will power when it comes to anything like that. None whatsoever!
I need to visit there.
David:
It’s an incredible place.
I love all the nooks and corners of Cordoba! Beautiful. Jx
PS I am pleased the torrijas survived Hurricane San Geraldo unscathed…
Jon:
What San Geraldo cooks always rises above the mess. I’m surprised the kitchen survives.
150 pictures!? Good Lord I thought I was bad. I said it once and I’ll say it again, as much as I would miss the sea, I like so much better where you’re living now.
Mistress Borghese:
Yes, the sea was beautiful, but this was THE BEST move.
150 pictures!? And I thought I was bad. And I said it once and I’ll say it again, as much as I would miss the sea, I like so much better where you’re living now.
Is WordPress now going the way of blogger? For some reason I don’t think my comments are going through.
Mistress Borghese:
I don’t know what was going on, but all three messages appeared here. WordPress also has its flaws.
Isn’t it amazing how people can blather on about nothing on the telephone? I always see people talking on phones while walking and I wonder, how on earth do they have so much to say? I never talk on the phone! (And don’t want to.)
Steve:
I don’t enjoy talking on the phone anymore. I especially dislike people making idle chatter in public so everyone can hear.
As beautiful as these photos are (especially all the mosaics!), I’ll admit I was a little disappointed not to find one of your breakfast. I clicked on the link to satisfy my curiosity. They look rather decadent.
Kelly:
That’s why I provided the link. Fresh torrija photos to come.
I looked up a recipe in english and gained 5 lbs just reading it but, DAMN, they look delicious (I LOVE French Toast.) I take about 150 pictures of Harvey every day. I have no idea why.
Sassybear:
If a recipe calls it Spanish French Toast, don’t bother with that recipe. When made correctly, they are nothing like French toast (which I also love). When made correctly, the bread becomes custard inside. Unbelievably delicious!
What marvelous mosaics under foot everywhere! I can’t believe this city. It’s one giant artwork.
Boud:
And those stone mosaics are done completely by hand. To this day.
Damn, even the walkways are works of art!!
Bob:
Yes, they are. The stones are still placed by hand. It’s wonderful to see the artisans still at work.
If you have to go to the hospital, that’s one of the lovelier ones.
Kirk:
I have a feeling it wasn’t up to our current standards! But the architecture sure was nice.
Oh, Scoot, that enclosed garden with the mosaic stone pathways is stunning! Too bad that woman didn’t move out of your shot, but I’m not surprised — self-absorbed boors on smartphones are everywhere now!
Tundra Bunny:
Fortunately, I had taken a photo of the garden and fountain earlier (but had forgotten about it). I do tire of people on smart phones sitting in the middle of scenes (and other people) chatting away at full volume.
One can only imagine all the scrumptious things waiting for Easter.
Urspo:
Oh yes. But no chocolate Easter bunnies here.