My First Trip to Spain

by Felix Alvarado

I was in Spain when it was still a medieval country. I recall my very first trip to Spain. My tour took me from Stuttgart Germany to Paris France. I got to parish at the Gare du Nord train station. I kept looking for the train to Spain, but nobody seemed to know where it was or at least, they would not point to a certain rail where I could find the train. Finally, some gentlemen could see my predicament, and he kept saying Gare del Est scared the less he grabbed me and took me to a taxicab and put me inside the taxicab and told the cab driver to take me to Gare del Est. German and French trains were nice and clean. The luxury ended when I got to Hendaye the French Spanish border. At Hendaye we boarded Spanish train. The train looked like it had survived the Spanish civil war. It was very slow going up the mountain. My ticket was for Madrid, but we did make a stop at Avila. I told the porter that I was going to Avila, but my ticket was for Madrid.  He just told me you get off the train.

There was only one hotel, so I went looking for a room. I tried to register but the lady was not buying the letter that I had which authorized me to travel Europe without a passport. She escorted me to the local Guardia Civil or civil guard or police. The water should deal with not buying the store either, but they just didn't know what to do because apparently, they had never had this situation in the past, so they didn't know what to do. Finally, the Guardia Civil said I didn't have to register, so I was able to stay in Avila for that night because I was only passing through. The hotel room only had a bed there was no light and there was no running water, no heat and if you wanted to use a bathroom you had to go outside because there was a squat type of commode and that was it.

Morning, I went looking for a taxi to take me to the small town that I was going to Navalmoral de la Sierra. The driver said that he was going to take me through the short way. He was told by the other taxicab drivers to take the long way because the mountain pass was very treacherous. The driver ignored the other cab drivers and took road through the mountain pass. We made it to the mountain path.  We skidded all the way down until we ran into a boulder and that was the end of a taxicab ride. Someone that was passing by gave us a ride back to Avila. When we got back there were plenty of taxicab drivers that wanted to take me to Navalmoral, but they all wanted to go around the mountains. The long way was through San Martin de Valdeiglesias. Along the way I got a glimpse of the toros de guisando. I made a mental note to return some day.

I made it to Navalmoral.  There was a bar at the intersection. I went looking for directions.  I was going meet my future wife. I found the home of my future wife who greeted me with “what are you doing here you jerk.” My reply was “I am here to see your father to ask him if I can marry you.”

Navalmoral was a quaint town still in the Middle Ages.  There were no modern conveniences. There was no electricity, running water, or newspaper.  The water fountain at the center of town square was the sole source of water  the water the town. The town was literally isolated from the rest of the world.  The only source of information was the back-and-forth buses that went to Avila and Madrid. Every morning there was a frenzy of activity before the buses arrived.  While waiting for the buses, people were busy passing on information that they wanted the traveler to check.  There was a frenzy of activity just before the rush returned. Of course, the chatter started immediately when the doors to the bus opened.  There was nonstop chatter of the waiting for the bus. There was none such chatter all the way back home. These people were hungry for information. The bus was the source of information.

When it was time for me to return, I went to Avila, got a ticket and went to board the train. I was coming back  to Germany at the same time as Spanish workers were returning to Germany after their Christmas vacation. The train was so full that the door to the car closed behind me.  I had to get off at Salamanca because people were getting off.  I couldn't get in the car when I went to get back into the train, I found out that there was no space in the train.  All the space was taken. Eventually a caboose was attached. I reached the caboose too late. It was already full. I could only get in standing up. The Spaniards took out their bread sausage, cheese and wine and started sharing. They shared with me. When I had to use the toilet, people were using it to store their baggage. A Spaniard could read my mind he  said you are outside right now, aren't you? That is your toilet.” I went outside the caboose until I got to the French border. I transferred over to a French train, and I went to first class.  I wanted comfort.  the Porter came back they asked me for my ticket. I gladly paid the difference between first and second class. When I got back to Paris, I knew now that I had to transfer stations.