Category Archives: spain

Back to Spain – the Region of Murcia

Just over two weeks ago, I was jetting my way back to Spain — this time to photograph the region of Murcia in the southeastern part of the country. The first night was spent in the Parador de Lorca. Paradores have become a favorite of mine — always unique and often historic in one way or another. This one was a new build, but in a historic setting sharing a mountaintop with a 13th century Moorish castle.

The parador was nearly complete when an earthquake struck in 2011, damaging both the new building and the old castle. Repairs were made and the structural banding added to the parador became a design element that distinguishes the new construction from the old. As stunning as the structure is, however, it’s the setting high above the city of Lorca that draws your eye.

Above, the parador (in the lower left of the image) as seen from the top of one of the castle towers.

Above: Looking down on the city of Lorca from the parador grounds.

Construction of the Parador de Lorca was also delayed and re-imagined whenever ruins were found during excavations. One discovery was this 15th century synagogue — now preserved, adjacent to the hotel:

For a small admission fee, the castle itself can easily be explored on foot from the parador and provides spectacular views.

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In my next post I’ll venture down, off the mountain, and into the town of Lorca.

Puente la Reina, Spain, and the countryside

I did escape the crowds of Pamplona’s San Fermin for one afternoon with a short trip out to Puente la Reina, a beautiful town situated on the Rio Arga. The Church of Santiago el Mayor (above), dominates the smaller facades of Calle Mayor. We walked the length of the street to the 12th century bridge for which the town is named, taking in the architectural sights along the way.

Someone mentioned wine and we suddenly found ourselves getting an impromptu tour of the nearby Palacio de Muruzabal winery. These things happen when in Spain.

Back on the road, we made our way to Uterga.

One last look across the fields toward Muruzabal:

And back to Pamplona just in time for sunset and another fine dinner overlooking the Church of St. Lorenzo:

Bullfighting in Pamplona, Spain

I know there are a lot of strong opinions on bullfighting and, if you want to stop reading right now, feel free. I’ll understand. I, myself, hesitated when faced with the opportunity of photographing a bullfight. In the end, I decided it was an important part of the Spanish culture that I wanted to experience for myself. And, truthfully, I’m glad I did because the spectacle of the setting, the suits, the movement and the excitement all made for an incredible evening. I’m not saying I’m now 100% pro-bullfighting, nor would I encourage anyone to go that didn’t want to, but experiencing different cultures is good. Getting outside of your comfort zone is good.

Just seeing the bullfighters prepare before entering the ring is special enough. The clothing is spectacular and you get a real sense of the focus and concentration that is needed.

Bullfighters are celebrities in Spain and the tunnel that leads to the ring resembles the red carpet of a Hollywood event. Photographers are asked to keep back a few meters to give the bullfighters space, but beyond those few meters it’s a chaotic scene of media and bullfighting fans. Still, at some point you see the bullfighters begin to find their inner calm.

Then the entourage enters the ring.

The fights themselves move quite quickly. I found many of my favorite shots were those I made using slow shutter speeds so that the movement and speed of the bull was apparent.

And don’t believe that there is no danger in it for the matador. Here the bull’s horn pierces the pant leg of matador Ivan Fandino and lifts him off the ground (he was not seriously injured and managed to finish the fight):

And here are two last images, this time of matador Juan Jose Padilla:

The Giants and the Bigheads of San Fermin

I mentioned in an earlier post how the Festival of San Fermin in Pamplona, Spain, is so much more than just the running of the bulls. One of my favorite parts of the festival is the visually stunning and family-friendly Comparsa of the Giants and Bigheads. The current Giant and Bighead characters date from around 1860, replacing older versions that had fallen into disrepair. Wherever they go, a crowd gathers. I saw them briefly on my first day in Pamplona, but the crowds were so tight it was difficult to find a position for good photographs. On my second day, I was lucky enough to run into them again during some free time and I managed much better.

Coming upon the parade from behind, I could see where they would be going — which appeared to be a different route than they had taken the day before. This time they were heading down Estafeta Street — the same street I had scouted for my long telephoto shot of the running of the bulls. After getting a few shots of families enjoying the festivities from my initial vantage point, I set off to walk around a few blocks and be ready as the procession approached me closer to the bullfighting arena.

And they arrived — coming right down Estafeta following the same path that the bulls do each morning. The shot below shows the full procession with the Bigheads in the lead and the Giants following behind. The Bigheads interact with the people in the crowd as the Giants twirl and dance.

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This last shot is the one I was really looking for and hoping to get. I love the compression from the long lens (this was my Tamron 150-600mm zoom, set to 450mm) and the way the shallow depth-of-field isolated the Giants by softly blurring the balconies in the background. As you can see by the myriad children in all of these photos, this really is a family event and the kids love it. Hey, I loved it!

Pamplona, Spain

In my last post, I wrote about the running of the bulls during the San Fermin Festival in Pamplona, Spain. There is so much more to San Fermin, so much more to Pamplona, that I want to devote a few more posts to the city and the festival — beyond the running of the bulls. Don’t get me wrong — the encierro was a spectacular and exciting event to witness. But there was so much more to love about Pamplona during festival time.

Here, an accordion player serenades diners in the sidewalk cafes lining the Plaza del Castillo:

In this post, I’ll introduce the city of Pamplona itself and I’ll get into other aspects of San Fermin in the following posts. Pamplona is a beautiful city with a wonderful old sector that rose tall over the years — often to six or seven stories. The need to grow upward came from this being a walled city that, for a long period, did not expand outside those walls. The narrow streets are shaded even throughout the hottest parts of the day and there is a sort of natural air conditioning that occurs. This, I’ve been told, because the week I spent there was unseasonably cool anyway, with highs only in the lower 80s F.

During quieter parts of the Festival, some locals have family meals in the streets, using the narrow spaces as extensions of their own dining rooms:

Back to the city walls — they still remain and there are beautiful wall walks in many areas that offer stunning views of the hills beyond the newer parts of the city.

Another great stop is the 15th century Cathedral of Royal Saint Mary:

This cathedral is actually available for events with an incredible variety of interior spaces. It also houses the OCCIDENS exposition, an unconventional museum of western civilization. Each gallery is uniquely designed and as engaging as the objects displayed within.

Pamplona would be a wonderful spot to visit even outside of the San Fermin Festival with surprises and wonders around every corner. The narrow, winding, sometimes hilly streets conceal and reveal with each step.

The running of the bulls, Pamplona, Spain

I have photographed bovines in abundance this summer, but the pinnacle may have come in early July when I went to Pamplona, Spain, for the San Fermin Festival and the running of the bulls. The spectacle of people running through these crowded streets alongside bulls that are being driven toward the bullring was made famous by Earnest Hemingway in his 1925 novel, “The Sun also Rises.” I read the book on the way to Pamplona and I have to say, I thought it was more about drinking and fishing than bulls, but I’m no literary scholar. The fact remains, because of Hemingway, everyone is now familiar with the running of the bulls in Pamplona. Which is a real shame, because I found other aspects of the San Fermin Festival to be at least, if not more, entertaining.

That said, when in Pamplona during San Fermin, you’ve got to see the running of the bulls, known locally as the encierro. And it is worth it. I was able to go three days in a row (the encierro is at 8 a.m. every morning from July 7-14) and would have happily gone again. As a photographer, it’s a difficult event to shoot in one try. The entire run takes just a few minutes and you can’t see the entire course from any one vantage point so the action literally passes by you in seconds.

For my first encierro, I had a spot on a balcony of the City Hall. It was near the beginning of the run, as the bulls are coming up a hill and entering a public square to make a sharp left. Here was my view from that vantage point:

Better yet, here’s a looping animation of several frames I fired off on that first day:

That was a great start, but I was really looking forward to my second day, when I had a pass to be in the barricade at street level. This is a narrow space between the temporary fence that holds the general public back and the fence that separates you from the route itself. The only people allowed in this gap are credentialed journalists, police and emergency medical personnel. But, you can’t just stand in there. To photograph the event, you need to be straddling the fence itself so that you leave the space below the bottom rail open. That way if (when) runners fall, they can roll to safety without your feet being in the way.

Here’s a shot from that vantage point as the route was getting one final inspection:

A few moments later, the runners — and bulls — arrived:

I love the telephoto compression that came from using my Tamron 150-600mm zoom here, but the runner’s bodies nearly obscure the bulls altogether. If was difficult to even tell if the bulls were in the frame through the viewfinder so I just continued to shoot and hoped for the best. Upon later inspection of the images, this one was among my favorite.

Once the bulls were too close for the telephoto, I had one last — quick — opportunity to grab a few wide-angle shots as they passed:

My third day and third encierro found me back on a balcony, this time one floor higher and on the street that makes for the longest straightaway during the run: Calle Estafeta:

This view allowed me a little more time as you could track the bulls approaching and passing by. It also appeared to be a fairly chaotic spot on this particular day, with lots of runners falling, but no serious injuries. One last shot from the balcony as the bulls pass by:

I have a new found respect for the photographers that get those great shots that you see of this event. It’s certainly a skill that must be honed with experience in order to know where best to be and how best to handle each location. I enjoyed myself thoroughly, though, and would have gladly gone back for a fourth day.

In the following posts, I’ll feature more of the events that make up Pamplona’s San Fermin Festival. As I mentioned before, there was so much more than just the bulls. Stay tuned and I’ll show you what I mean.

Guadix, Spain – Cave Houses and Cathedrals

Before heading back to Granada, we had one last stop in Guadix, Spain. There the landscape contrasted dramatically with what I had seen in Almunecar the day before. Around Guadix, it was much more of a desert climate and nearly half of the city’s population lived in cave houses, carved into hillsides.

There’s a cave house in Guadix that is open as a museum so that visitors can see what the insides of these dwelling look like. It was a warm day when I visited, but inside the cave house it was very cool and comfortable.

Projected, moving silhouettes on the walls help to tell the story of the people who live in these houses.

Back in the center of town, the contrasts continue with a beautiful, historic district that sits more typically above ground. Perhaps the highlight of this part of the city is the stunning, baroque-style Cathedral of the Incarnation.

Almuñécar, Spain, on the Tropical Coast

Almunecar, Spain, sits on the Mediteranean Sea, fringed with palm trees. At first glance, it seemed the kind of place I could have spent a lot of time. Happily. We’d had a busy day along the Tropical Coast, however, and we were running a bit late. Sunset was not far off when we arrived in town. I had mapped out a couple of promising looking spots on the beach to photograph the last light and I was rushing to get checked in to the Hotel Suite Albayzin del Mar. The hotel is a spectacularly mirrored palace with sprawling gardens. When I was given my room key, it came with an elevator number, a floor number and the room number. It seems that each elevator only served about four rooms per floor and there weren’t connecting hallways beyond that. When I arrived at my room, I realized the elevator was not the only thing special about this hotel.

The rooms — no, suites — were enormous. This is just the living room half of my main room with a full dining area to the right, out of frame. I opened one door, expecting to find the bathroom and realized it was a full kitchen, with an extension that served as a laundry room. Another door led to a hallway opening onto a bath and two bedrooms. All along the sea-side of the room was a balcony. I dropped by bags and rushed out to assess the situation regarding the remaining light.

Out on the balcony, the view to the old town was stunning, as were the pools, fountains and gardens of the hotel property.

Looking west, I could see that the sun was already dipping behind a hill, so my time with any remaining sunlight was very limited. I decided to ditch my plans to head for the beach, and I made an executive decision to make what photos I could from the balcony and other parts of the hotel property.

As it turned out, I didn’t feel overly limited in subject matter. I loved this view through the trees of the old church catching the last rays of the sun. That was made from a raised area above and behind the pool seen below.

The pools themselves were amazing. This one had a sunken bar in the middle and a grotto filled with twinkling lights.

I dashed around the property taking time-exposures on the tripod until the light failed and my battery was dead. It wasn’t the evening that I had expected, but it was a productive one and I had enjoyed myself immensely.

The next morning I was up before sunrise and caught some more beautiful views of the old city to the east of the hotel. Not long after, I was back in the van and headed to the next town.

Spain’s Tropical Coast

This may be difficult for some of you to read, but I’m not looking for sympathy. The truth is that my career path sometimes requires me to start the day with a rum tasting in the south of Spain and then spend the remainder of the morning on a sailboat in the Mediterranean before having a banquet of fresh seafood on the beach. It’s an uncomfortable truth. I could have been an accountant, but this job needed to be done and I felt I could handle it. I’m not complaining.

The blue Mediterranean off the coast near Motril, Spain.

Sailing past Salobreña, with its 10th-century Moorish castle rising up behind a beautiful beach where we were soon to have lunch overlooking the sea.

After lunch, it was a trek up the winding streets and steps of Salobreña’s old town to reverse our view and see the Mediterranean from the Moorish castle.

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Looking further west down the coast toward Almuñecar, our stop for the night and the subject of my next post.

The Alpujarra, Andalusia, Spain

Leaving Granada, Spain, and heading southeast, the roads twist and turn their way through the Sierra Nevada in a region called “the Alpujarra.” If you’ve read the book, “Driving Over Lemons,” by Chris Stewart (former Genesis drummer) it is set in this area. The view above is the town of Capileira, seen from the neighboring town of Pampaneira. Ruggedly beautiful, many of these small towns now embrace tourism through outdoor activities. Plenty of quaint restaurants and shops have sprung up in response.

I believe this was my first proper bowl of gazpacho, served to me in a restaurant located in the old blacksmith’s shop in Trevelez.

Backtracking toward the main highway that would lead us south to the Mediterranean, we stopped for the day in the spa town of Lanjaron, where I passed on the opportunity to get a full spa treatment in order to take advantage of a walking tour of the town led by a local guide. No regrets on that decision as the tour was one of those great small town experiences that included an impromptu tour of our guide’s own home and a surprise meeting with the local undertaker (thankfully just a casual meeting!). A few shots from my walk:

Flowers everywhere.

One blue house in Lanjaron. I don’t know why it — and it alone — was so blue, but I loved it.

A proud weaver invited us inside his shop to see how his loom worked.

The tour ended at our hotel for the night, the beautiful family-run Alcadima Hotel — which I would recommend to anyone planning to visit this area. I had a very comfortable room with a balcony and the grounds were beautifully landscaped. We were even treated to a private guitar performance after dinner while drinking a local lemonade made by the owner. An unforgettable evening.