The Great Iberian Road Trip, Days 61-62: Just When We Thought It Was All Over, This Happened

 

Sometimes a bit of dolce farniente is a good thing. On Friday 30 August, we just bummed about in the park here, did a bit of swimming in the pool and I cooked some ibérico pork cutlets with potatoes and a side of tomato in vinaigrette.

But on Saturday 31 August, we made the final excursion of our road trip. And what a stunning location it was. The naval city of Cartagena is over two millennia old and is nestled in amongst the lakes and mountains of the Murcia region. At one time, this place was known as “New Carthage”, and was a capital city of its eponymous Roman province. Cartagena has an abundance of remains from its various settlers over the years, including Phoenician, Byzantine and Moorish, but it is the Romans that left some of the biggest traces behind, including one of the most aesthetically positioned amphitheatres in the Old World.

And the museum that houses it is a masterpiece in its own right.

We firstly headed to a parking garage somewhere at the dock. This was the perfect location to head into the old town for something to eat. It was approaching two o’clock, and we found a beauty of a restaurant, nestled between a row of houses where they had made a terrace. The kind proprietor sat us at a table at the back with high stools, so after all that driving, I opted to stand up the whole time.

The lunch was splendid – tapas portions of toast with ibérico ham, patatas bravas, artichoke leaves perfectly diced and laced with cheese and truffles. This was followed by some torrija, Spain’s answer to pain perdu, or bread and butter pudding. It made a perfect preparation to enter the Roman Amphitheatre. You go in through a modest door just off a main square near the docks. The entrance for us all was modest, and definitely worth every cent.

As you pass into the next room, you are greeted by some of the relics they have found – the capitals of Doric pillars, pieces of the texts set in stone, pieces of statues, some better kept than others, and a great deal of pottery. One of the rooms there has a window directly looking on to the stonemasonry of the huge building. The rooms ended with a set of escalators up to different other remnants, all very well presented indeed.

After a few more exhibits, you enter a tunnel which brings you to some of the rooms under the theatre. The designer really set the scene so well. Then, via a walkway, you pass through a triclinium with some of the original mosaic, and – here comes the most striking feature of the whole visit – the designer made the entrance to the vast, majestic remains of the amphitheatre feel like you are actually arriving as a spectator or an actor. The impression you get by leaving the tunnel and the walkway and entering the amphitheatre is a spine-tingling experience that leaves you appropriately awestruck and does its very best to transport you back two millennia. It is a striking moment.

You enter the amphitheatre halfway up the spectators’ section on the left. Walking round, you take in the scenery: the cypress trees above, the mountains in the distance, the remains of the pillars, the huge distance to the other side, the stage, and the balcony at the top. You can climb up to the top and go in the arches up to the very highest point, a vertiginously perched set of places but the view all around is astonishing, to say the least.

When your four-year-old uses the word “awesome” to describe what she has seen, you know this has been a worthwhile undertaking. In fact, all three were full of questions and comments to the point that we had to stop in order to think of the right replies. Out of all the visits to places of interest, this was the moment where I think reality set in: they’re starting to understand the concept of historical time… even if Dainoris is confusing the Roman period with having dinosaurs in it. I do believe their notion of the linear timeline is getting stretched, which is excellent.

Walking around this massive Roman structure, crossing the stage itself where actors had performed two millennia ago, I was reminded of the fact that in many of their performances, the Romans often let their actors die on stage. The Greeks had the rule never to show a death on stage, but the Romans were more bloodthirsty. Slaves were often used to fulfil this role, and they were swapped with the leading actor wearing the same clothes to carry this out. Other slaves or criminals were ordered to maim themselves or suffer an alarming injury in order to regain their freedom. Some price to pay.

Does this show the Romans were less civilised than the Greeks? Maybe. Often, a less sophisticated culture is able to overpower a more civilised one simply because the civilised one has gone past the desire to destroy and expand territory. We see this happening now, although the civilised cultures have correctly learned to arm themselves to the teeth to protect their position.

After our mightily inspiring visit, we headed to a bar for a well-deserved drink. It was quite hot and dry sitting there. I remember one of Ovid’s poems where he describes all the food and drink people took to the theatre – I can understand why.

Just above the underground car park is a newly-built leisure complex with an indoor bar downstairs, an ice cream outlet on the side and a hangout bar on the roof. We went up there. The view was lovely although the lounge music had a very heavy beat to it that was a little bothersome. Although they had these fruit-flavoured tonics that made it all better again.

We jumped back in the car and went to the playground outside our apartment. I went off for a little light shopping and a look around the outlet stores just round the corner. By the time I returned, everyone was heading back up to watch TV and flake out. It had been an exhausting day. Last full day coming up – then we make our way home again.

I can’t wait.