The traveling turtle

La Tortuga Viajera


Welcome to La Tortuga Viajera (the traveling turtle). It’s a travel and Spanish food blog based on my experiences as an American living in Madrid with my Madrileño husband. Who would have thought a 15-minute bar conversation would change my life forever? Join me on my journey through Spain and its top spots, best-kept secrets, culture and cuisine.

September 23, 2013 - Posted by Erin in Uncategorized

Dear Readers,


I have a confession. And no, this time it doesn’t have to do with cheese, pueblos or even cute Spanish grandpas. No, nothing even close. This time I must come clean as to why I’ve been so completely missing from my blog in the last months.

Photo courtesy of Gabriel Saldana via Flickr

Photo courtesy of Gabriel Saldana via Flickr

If you haven’t guessed it already: Tortuga’s having a tortuguita. That’s right, I’m pregnant and expecting a little boy (I’m still thinking it could just be a giant tortilla española) toward the end of the year. Jacobo and I are positively elated!


As you can probably imagine, these last months have been a bit disorienting. Apart from the physical and mental intensity involved with the whole growing-another-person thing (I still can’t believe this is happening!), I spent five head-spinning weeks in the States, followed by a quick trip to Malta, and all while my freelance writing workload somehow managed to quadruple (never mind the size of my stomach – eek!).


I’ve been in such a pregnancy haze, actually, that I spilled olive oil all over (and incidentally in) my laptop last week, and it has since ceased to function. (I’ll have you know that the Mac service people here in Madrid didn’t even flinch or crack a smile at the olive-oil incident, as if it were totally normal. I’m going to pretend that olive-oil spillage on anything is entirely commonplace in Spain.) The good news: By some stroke of luck, I had gotten a backup laptop of sorts while home, and it was my old laptop that suffered the tragic – albeit quite tasty – accident. Consider this my PSA: Olive oil and laptop innards are not friends – take note.


Basically, it’s been a crazy, beautiful and largely blog-free time, and I’ve hated having to keep the big — and getting bigger! — secret from you all for so long. But, believe it or not, I still haven’t even shared the news with my Facebook friends (gasp!), so now you and the probably five other people who’ve hung around through my silence are still among the first to know. Surprise, Mom and Dad!!! I kid, I kid.


Times might be changing, but going forward I’ll do my best to keep you all up to date on my continued adventures – the ones that involve tasty travels, not diaper changes. I do hope you’ll still come along for the ride. And thank you for your continued support!


Sincerely,
Tortuga and her soon-to-arrive Tortuguita

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July 31, 2013 - Posted by Erin in Books, Expat, Travel

Allow me to interrupt our regularly scheduled (albeit sporadic) programming to bring you an especially pride-filled post about my “soul friend,” Candace.

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You remember her: We bonded on the chilly streets of Copenhagen, we ran in the rain through the hills on the Camino, and we walked the final precious steps to the foot of the Taj Mahal. She’s the kind of friend that I’ve not managed to spend that much physical time with, and yet feel like I’ve known for a lifetime.


But today I want to talk about her passion for sketching, which began long ago, slowly becoming a bigger part of her life, and somehow mine too. Indeed, as I recently immersed myself in a late spring-cleaning of my house, I realized that her sketches – and really adventures, even our adventures – stared back at me from my office bulletin board: an ethereal gaze at the Santiago Cathedral; a thank you note after we both played and worked in San Francisco; a welcome sign for my arrival to New Delhi. Like memories, her art captures these journeys like distant cozy dreams.
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Of course she hasn’t just been capturing our journeys (only a mere twinkle in her universe of travel stars), but also her other nonstop adventures, from the Valley of Roses in Morocco to the shores of Fewa Lake in Nepal. And she recently took her passion one step further, too, with a mission to sketch her way across Southeast Asia and Japan. In doing so, she recorded her experiences with a pen and paintbrush, bringing them to life in both words and drawings, and ultimately publishing them in her new book Beneath the Lantern’s Glow. I’ve read every word of it and day dreamed over each of the images, and hope you will too by grabbing your own copy here.
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As I write this, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by the funny ways the world works: At this moment, she sits across from me as we both work and watch the gentle tide roll in at my favorite place on earth, Vashon Island. Yep, our paths have magically crossed again. From around the world and back, we now celebrate another adventure, the ones to come, and surely the images that her paintbrush will conjure up along the way.


More to come on all of that soon, though. Until then, I return you to my unpredictable schedule of posts about Spain and beyond.

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July 11, 2013 - Posted by Erin in Spain, Travel, Travels in Europe, Travels in Spain

I can’t stop staring at my cell phone with its wallpaper taunting me to go back. A lighthouse stretches out into the sea, waves crash into craggy rocks, and sunrays bathe a sloping cliff of green, with promise of warmth despite the chilly waters.

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Sigh, Cudillero. Even more “sigh” right now as the mercury in Madrid has danced around 100ºF for more days than I can remember, and will continue to for as long as my iPhone weather forecast wishes to reveal. I positively long for that chilly marine breeze and the sound of seagulls.


And I’m embarrassed, because I realize that I haven’t really even told you about this northern paradise, this pueblo of perfection, this new favorite Spanish place of mine (and that’s not hyperbole; I mean it, I really do).

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Imagine a fishermen’s village, idyllic, with a jagged colorful skyline of buildings that brushes up against the sea just as the waves do against the shore. The whole village funnels and weaves toward the water like a giant luge, as if everything that matters must lead to the sea.
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It probably used to, and still very much does, but in this northern Asturian town of some 6,000 people the industry these days has become more about tourism and agriculture than it is about the sea. That said, during my visit, I saw few tourists – just a pilgrim here and there, slogging the ups and downs of the Camino de la Costa.
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But what really makes little Cudillero so special is that, apart from its obvious charm, there’s just something magnetic about the way the town cradles and almost cuddles the sea, like an auditorium to eternity. It’s the kind of place that begs for you to stop and dream, and mostly to come back.
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Fortunately, while Cudillero might not be in my future again any time soon, that doesn’t mean that an ocean escape isn’t. Next week I head to San Francisco then north to Seattle and Vashon Island, where I’ll be free of these Spanish temperatures and get a healthy dose of home — marine air, seagulls and all.

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June 4, 2013 - Posted by Erin in Food and wine, Spain, Travel, Travels in Europe, Travels in Spain

Oh dear. Do you still remember me? The deep passion for tortilla española? The adventures with sheep? The cheese, ohhh, the manchego cheese!?! Yes, it’s me Tortuga Viajera, and I know, it’s been a little while.


After a couple of weeks of silence, though, I’m back, and (sort of) have an excuse: my father recently came to visit me in Spain. During his nearly two-week trip, we traveled up north, weaving in and out of the regions of Asturias and Cantabria, and covered ground here in Madrid, heading to places like El Escorial and the Valley of the Fallen. We ate, we saw, we ate some more, and then my dad finally got food poisoning (because apparently this runs in the family). Overall, though, it was a magical a trip. And here are some of the photos to prove it.

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The seaside town of Cudillero, where I will live one day. Promise.
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The Cudillero lighthouse.
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The world’s best arroz con leche – EVER!!! – from Restaurante Isabel in Cudillero. See that mess drizzled on top? That, my foodie friend, was sugary syrup burnt to form a crusty layer of magic atop the tapioca-textured concoction. It was a miracle in my mouth.
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I present you with extreme fishing at Cabo Vidio. Shortly after this, the guy left his two poles propped up on the ledge and left. We still can’t figure out his strategy. Seriously, can someone tell me how the fish he’s apparently catching don’t yank the pole straight out into the ocean? Really, I want to know.
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The view of the Picos de Europa from just above the mountain village of Cahecho, and after an uber-Cantabrian lunch of cocido montañes at Casa Lamadrid (well worth the car sickness-inducing drive, should you be in these parts).
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A backroad in the Cantabrian village of Potes. Not a bad place to get lost during a countryside stroll.
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On our final night, we slept in the 30-person village of Bárcena Mayor. We stayed at the only open hotel (if you can even call it that) in town and were their only guests.
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Blooming flowers in the gardens behind the El Escorial Monastery. Spring and summer have been trying to make an appearance here in Spain, but it’s been slow going.

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May 9, 2013 - Posted by Erin in Food and wine, Travel

How to get food poisoning? Be me. Truly, that’s practically all. But let me back up a little bit.

 

I get food poisoning like every five minutes. OK, obviously not that often, but at least once every few months (not exaggerating, unfortunately). I also happen to be a professional at getting it when absolutely no one else does. I’ve got a weak stomach, what can I say.

 

This became ever so evident to me again on my trip last week to Chipiona in Cádiz, Spain, where, among seven people, Jacobo (also Mr. Sensitive Tummy) and I were the only two to fall victim to some bizarre food bug.

 

Rookie mistake in Morocco: After eating this dish with fresh veggies I spent a day in bed instead of a day on the beach in Essaouira.

So, you ask, why then, Tortuga, are you in any position to give advice? Because, when I play it smart, I don’t get sick. Like, for example, when I went to a place where almost everyone — everyone — get’s sick, and yet I didn’t: India! And that’s because I employed the following tummy-bug-avoiding tricks (disclaimer: while my extensive knowledge may fool you ;), I am by no means a doctor!):

 

      1.During the month before travel, take probiotics. Those are the fancy little pills that carry tons of different healthy bacterias that help make your tummy stronger at fighting off dicey food.
      2.During the month before traveling, eat yogurt. Prior to going to India, I ate Greek yogurt every morning to, again, build up healthy bacteria in my tummy.
      3.In developing countries, avoid consuming fresh water at all costs. That means no ice cubes, no tap water for brushing your teeth, and beware of fresh-water-based food items (like, for example, in India, I stayed away from chutney).
      4.In developing countries, avoid eating fresh vegetables (potentially poorly washed and/or washed with fresh water) unless you really trust the source.
      5.In developing countries, or if eating questionably intense cuisine, consider taking a medicine (only while traveling) that helps coat your tummy, giving it an extra layer of defense. Consult your doctor or pharmacist to see if and what they recommend.

     

    Unfortunately, these tricks mostly only work for occasional travel — I’ll be darned if I’m going to consume (expensive) probiotics on a daily basis, or regularly avoid fresh water or vegetables (which, to clarify, is not a concern here at all in Spain). So, of course, I still get sick. But to avoid ruining a big trip, especially in developing countries, these should be your weapons against spending more time in the bathroom than you do sight seeing. And of course, try to avoid being me.

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