Salamanca

After Santiago I was headed to Spain proper. I qualify in this way because Spain is not exactly a united nation. True Spain is Madrid and the center of country. Historically it is Castile, Leon and Aragon, the regions united by the marriage of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella in the year 1469. The periphery of the country is essentially conquered lands. There exists some degree of separatism in almost all the outlying provinces and in several, such as the Basque country, Galicia and Catalonia, there are outright independence movements.

The city of Salamanca, some 200 miles northwest of Madrid, was my destination. Looking out my bus window the seaclouds of the north were soon gone and bright yellow sunshine filled the land. Haystacks cluttered the broad, dry plains like spilled corn. Like crumbs of gold. We arrived at the station and I made my way into town.

Almost every small to midsize city in Spain has at its core a lovely old town and sprawling out from that in all directions revolting blocks of painted concrete constructed in the 1960's economic boom. Many a skyline is ruined by this architectural blight. Luckily Salamanca is not counted among its victims.

In addition to being unmarred, the town looks unlike any other that I saw in Spain. Every building is made with a locally-quarried, reddish-yellow stone that at the end of the day turns gold and pink in the sunset light. There are tranquil, tucked-away gardens, a grand cathedral among other architectural wonders, and the most impressive public square in Spain. It's tough to beat the big cities, particularly Barcelona, for man-made beauty. But after those, and really equal to them only different, Salamanca was the loveliest place I saw in that country.

It's also a college town - the third-oldest in Europe. In my dorm room was a Mexican guy named Ossi, short for Osorio, who was a student and had just finished his term. We got to talking and he mentioned he was going for tapas and then salsa dancing with a girl from Valencia who he knew from school. He kindly invited me to come along.

That was the first and perhaps the only time I ate tapas with a Spaniard in a natural setting. That is, when the Spaniard was not a hostel employee or tour guide or something. Ossi kept making fun of the girl's penchant for dropping her napkin on the floor rather than throwing it away, a Spanish custom that inevitably leads to the quality of uncleanliness that marks all authentic tapas bars. She really couldn't help it.

After tapas we went to the salsa bar. Here I was left behind. I got out on the floor and did my best with the girl but I was a lost cause from the start. It's just not something a person can pick up the first try, or so I consoled myself.

My new friends showed me how it's done. The Mexican in his white pants was like a dervish and the girl, who by day was an unassuming biologist, became the sexiest thing in that bar when she started to move. They were perfectly in sync, in step and in the sway of their hips and in the way their arms trailed across the other's back when they turned in passing. I watched them dance a few songs and then Ossi came over to the table I was sitting at with a drink while the girl stayed on the floor. He was covered in sweat.

"That was some show you guys put on," I said to him.
"We have experience. If you practiced you could dance just as good."
"I doubt it."
We drank our drinks.
"Have you got any designs on her?" I asked him. "Because I don't see how you can dance like that with a girl and have there be no feelings."
"It was actually the first time we danced together. We met here, but I never danced with her before tonight."
"Well you two are just a natural pair then aren't you."

He just smiled and looked away.

There were plans to get chocolate churros from some place that didn't open until 4 AM but by the time we left the bar I was dead tired and I wanted to give them some time alone anyway. We walked back to the hotel and I said goodnight and left them in the street. The Spanish girl looked fresh as a daisy. She had wanted to keep dancing. She hardly drank a thing all night.

After Salamanca I visited a few old, small towns near Madrid. Segovia with its Roman aqueduct. Avila with its medieval walls entirely intact. I wanted to relax and be alone because soon I would have plenty of company. My sisters were coming to Europe for the first time. I would meet them in Barcelona.