Landing in the Middle Ages

GIRONA, Spain —  You would have thought we had just climbed Mt. Everest. There we were, toasting in triumph, sitting amid Scandinavians in hiking shorts, Swiss with stout walking sticks and sturdy British women wearing sensible shoes. My wife, Bobbie, and I and dozens of others had reached the top of the ramparts and circled the city, and we were celebrating. We were, after all, 500 feet above sea level.

Now, with our climb and the midday sun behind us, we were lunching at Cafe le Bistrot, halfway up a steep stone stairway inside the wall, with dozens of superathletes like ourselves, bonding under belle epoque opera posters and Impressionist watercolors of ballerinas as ceiling fans twirled. We had endured 25 minutes and nearly a mile of climbing stairways and watchtowers, and we were buzzing and jumping with adrenaline in this crossroads, soothed though we all were by its greenery, blue flowers, and cocoa and peach walls.

Most of our fellow climbers were in their 20s and 30s, and six or seven languages were spoken. During our three-day stay here in July, we did not cross paths with a single American. Of the 109,000 tourists who visited the city last year, I found out later from Girona’s tourist office, most are from elsewhere in Spain. In second place were the British, with 15,000, and in third place, the French, with 14,000. American visitors were so few, with totals below 1,000, that they didn’t even make the list.

Americans don’t know what they’re missing, because there is much to do in this historic city on Spain’s Costa Brava. You must snack on tapas, drink Penedes and climb the 90-step Baroque apron to the 900-year-old Gothic cathedral. You must wind through the narrow, twisting cobblestone lanes where one of Spain’s most influential Jewish communities lived six centuries ago. You must sample free wine, cheese, candy and salsa at the outdoor market.

Above all, you must climb to the top of the wall that almost encircles the Barri Vell (“old district”), Girona’s medieval quarter. Here, nearly 70 feet above the old stone streets, you look down at lemon and olive trees, up at pines and an occasional spruce on the slopes of Montjuic rising before you, and out toward the stunning Cathedral of Santa Maria and the blue ridges of the Pyrenees mountains beyond.

Bobbie and I had come to Girona for the same reason as the builders of the walls--the Romans, Visigoths, Moors and Aragonese: The city is on the main road from Barcelona to southern France, and we were headed to Arles, France, then to the Riviera on a two-week vacation in July. But we found so much to amuse ourselves here--snaking alleys with surprises at every bend, good food and drink at low prices--that we were in no hurry to move on.

Our 62-mile drive from Barcelona to Girona took an hour, not counting the extra hour at each end during which we were thoroughly lost. The train, which takes a little more than an hour and deposits you within four blocks of the Barri Vell, would seem a better bet than driving.

But once we arrived here, we found a different world from the one we had left in Barcelona. The brisk efficiency and the cool stylishness of Barcelona were nowhere in sight. Although our hotel, the Melia Girona in the New City, is the best of the seven hotels--there are a dozen hostels and pensions as well--in this city of 72,000, the laid-back desk staff tended to disappear for long periods. No one stood outside to hustle us into restaurants. We could wear whatever we wanted. We discovered a warmth and friendliness that we thought had long since departed from urban Europe. By our second day, locals were saying “hola” to us in the streets. Whenever we whipped out a map, someone came by to help us.

Though we stayed in the prosperous New City--parts of which are 200 years old--we spent nearly all our time in the Barri Vell. Consisting mostly of pedestrian lanes, it was compact and a joy to walk. Parking, though, was unthinkable.

To get to our first meal in Girona, we parked in the New City and crossed a bridge to the east side of the mirror-like Onyar River and the Barri Vell. We had landed in the Middle Ages. We found a village of hand-hewn stone, graceful arches and, off in the distance, the soaring cathedral.

And, of course, the wall. Its foundations date to the 4th century, when the Romans enclosed a village they named Gerunda in honor of Geryon, a three-headed monster in Greek mythology who was killed by Hercules. The wall looks much as it did in the 14th century, when the Aragonese put on the finishing touches.

“Are we dressed properly?” Bobbie asked as we entered the wood-paneled vestibule at Albereda, the most expensive restaurant in the Barri Vell, around lunchtime. As black-suited waiters came into view carrying silver-domed serving dishes, I began to wonder the same thing. Then we saw the other diners, who, like us, were wearing sandals and shorts.

Before we ordered, our waiter brought us flutes of cava, the local answer to champagne, and a plate of three appetizers. They were tasty, but we had no idea what they were.

When I asked the waiter, I received an answer in Catalan, incomprehensible to me even though I speak sophomore-level Spanish. Because Girona is in the Catalonia region, Catalan is everyone’s first language. With fewer vowels and more sibilants than Spanish, it sounds like mist falling on pebbles. Even the name of the city is pronounced differently in Catalan, its first letter sounding like “zh” rather than the Spanish “h.”

After a stunning lunch of shrimp-and-crab-filled crepes au gratin for Bobbie and filet of sole with cumin and couscous for me, and a bottle of a hearty red Ribera del Duero, I was afraid to ask for the bill. At $47, it was much more than we would ever pay again for a meal in affordable Girona.

After lunch we headed to the Call, the ancient Jewish ghetto where Girona’s small but culturally significant Jewish community was forced to live from 889 until Spain expelled Jews in 1492. Here the study of cabala, the books and traditions of Jewish mysticism, thrived during the 12th and 13th centuries. The scholar and teacher Nahmanides, Rabbi Moses ben Nahman, who lived from 1194 to 1270, took cabala from the shady corners of Provence, where it was being studied quietly, into mainstream Jewish thought. Over the centuries, thanks to Nahmanides’ eloquence and charisma, the influence of cabala has spread. Even Madonna and Roseanne have taken it up. The concept, not quite the way Nahmanides saw it, that the individual can connect personally to God appeals to people who are turned off by institutional religion.

Nahmanides was expelled from Girona for besting a Christian convert in a forced theological discourse, but ironically he is now the town’s favorite son. One of Girona’s main streets, Bonastruc ca Porta, bears his name in Catalan, and the city runs a museum on the site of its last synagogue--previously Nahmanides’ home--in his honor.

Bobbie had wanted to visit the museum, the Centre Bonastruc ca Porta, since 1992, when it was dedicated in commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the expulsion of the Jews. Her ancestors settled in the Call in 1086 and lived there for at least 100 years. Did they once lie beneath the ancient, weathered tombstones enshrined on the second floor? I left her alone with her thoughts as she stood there, overlooking a central courtyard filled with citrus trees and bougainvillea surrounding a granite mosaic Star of David.

Thanks to the efforts of Girona’s former mayor, a history professor named Joaquim Nadal, the Call is the most fully restored Jewish quarter in Spain. The city sponsors concerts of medieval Jewish music there at noon and in the evening, and occasional storytelling hours as well. The city’s high-minded attitude toward restoration is evident not just in the Call but in every corner of the Barri Vell.

Later that day we visited the imposing Cathedral of Santa Maria, which is also being restored. It has one of the widest naves, at 75.4 feet, of any Gothic church in the world. We also stopped at the Banys Arabs, 12th century baths constructed in the style of the Moors, who ruled the city from 795 to 1015.

Before leaving the Barri Vell, we passed through the Placa de l’Oli, birthplace of Girona’s other noteworthy son, bandleader Xavier Cugat, who died in 1990. Cugat had no small impact on the world. He cut at least 30 record albums, propelled all four of his beautiful wives onto the world stage (wife No. 4, Charo, still performs in Las Vegas), appeared regularly on TV and radio and played himself in more than a dozen movies. He was one of the first musicians, long before Perez “Prez” Prado and Desi Arnaz, to popularize Latin music to mainstream America. He was a cartoonist for The Times in 1924 and ‘25, and King Features syndicated his caricatures worldwide. In the 1980s he owned a Mexican restaurant named Casa Cugat on La Cienega Boulevard, where he greeted many of his guests.

After a siesta, we drove back toward the Barri Vell in the evening and searched for a space in the free parking lot across the Onyar in the New City. Crowds were pouring out of small cars, and there was no room for ours. We parked about six blocks away from the riverbank, walked through colonnaded Placa Independencia with its strolling accordionists, and to the Pont de les Peixateries Velles, the iron-filigree pedestrian bridge designed by Gustave Eiffel, leading from the New City to the old river houses painted in pastels of peach, rose and lime, looking like sherbet.

Crowds streamed across the bridge to the Barri Vell’s many attractions: 27 restaurants, 15 clothing stores, seven nightclubs, five museums, three bookstores and 19 specialty shops. There were classical concerts every night behind the cathedral, and more than 40 blocks of ancient streets, brightly illuminated at night.

It was 8 p.m., at least two hours too early for dinner in Spain, but the air was filled with fragrances wafting out of kitchens preparing local specialties--hot chocolate cake with ginger, spicy French fries and escalivada, an irresistible dish of roasted eggplants, red peppers, tomatoes and onions.

We were hungry, and we followed a British couple’s advice on a tapas bar.

A waiter at Tapa’t invited us to take an outdoor table in an alley beside stone 13th century houses sporting second-story planter boxes with vines and blossoms tumbling down. An accordion player serenaded us as we examined the snack menu. We decided to share mushrooms in a sour cream and onion sauce, chicken with bechamel sauce in puff pastry, wedges of Manchego cheese and a plate of pa amb tomaquet, the ubiquitous Catalan specialty of bread coated with olive oil and garlic and dipped in tomato sauce.

We had ordered way too much food, but it was so good that we ate it all. With a delightful house white wine and a bottle of water, our bill came to $16.

Everyone at Tapa’t seemed to know everyone else, and many were from places like Sheffield and Leeds, England. Some approached us, mostly to take their photos, and then passed on travel tips--the location of an Internet bar, a good chocolateria, a cool stone convent where we could find relief from the heat.

The next day we decided to be thoroughly touristy and take a ride on the bright green mini-train parked on the Pont de Pedra, in front of the helpful tourist office. We thought the train ride would be a tame experience after our hike up the ramparts. Fifteen minutes before departure time, all but two of the train’s 60 seats were filled, and we grabbed them, although they were not next to each other.

Tame it was not. After a calm ride at ground level, the train headed uphill and began to wind around steep ramps at high speeds, with stone walls just millimeters from our elbows. A woman next to me covered her eyes.

In beautiful Girona, this was clearly a mistake.

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Guidebook: In Fair Girona

Getting there: For the most convenient way to Girona, fly to Barcelona, then travel by car or train to the city, which is 62 miles northeast of Barcelona. Lufthansa, Air France, KLM, Delta, British Airways and Aer Lingus offer connecting service (change of planes) from LAX to Barcelona. Restricted round-trip fares start at $1,361. Fares drop to $1,198 on Sept. 18.

Telephones: To call the numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international dialing code), 34 (country code for Spain) and the number.

Where to stay: Melia Girona, 112 Carrer de Barcelona, U.S. reservations (888) 956-3542; in Spain 972-40-05-00, fax 972-24-32-33, www.meliagirona.solmelia.com. Girona’s most luxurious, a 20-minute walk to the Old City. Doubles $110 with breakfast.

Hotel Carlemany, 1 Placa Miquel Santalo; 972-21-12-12, fax 972-21-49-94, www.carlemany.es/en/recepcio.html. Girona’s other luxury hotel, in easy walking distance of the train station and the Old City. Doubles $104 with buffet breakfast.

Where to eat: Boira, 18 Placa Independencia; 972-20-30-96. Tapas lunch for two with wine, $12.

Tapa’t, 1 Carrer de la Cort Reial, 972-41-07-94.Tapas dinner for two with wine, $16.

Tapasbar, 11 Placa Independencia; 972-22-12-13. Tapas $2 each; dinner of regional fare for two with wine, $31.

Cafe le Bistrot, 2 Pujada Sant Domenec; 972-21-88-03. Pizza for two with wine, $14.

Restaurant Albereda, 9 Carrer de Albereda; 972-22-60-02. Lunch for two with wine, $47.

For more information: Tourist Office of Spain, 8383 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 960, Beverly Hills, CA 90211; (323) 658-7188, fax (323) 658-1061, tourism.catalonia.net/ckw/guidegirona.html.

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Barry Zwick is an editor at The Times.