la mezquita, from a distance

My time in Córdoba has been a bit longer than I'd originally planned. Originally, I thought I'd be leaving Sunday morning. now the plan is Monday night. As it turns out, all the overnight trains to Barcelona are booked in advance. Way in advance. The first option I'd have would be to leave Córdoba at 10AM and get to Barcelona at 9pm. A whole day in a train. Sounds like fun.

Option 2 was to go to Madrid tonight and leave for Barcelona tomorrow morning. Except not; the earliest train for Madrid that had available seats leaves at 4:30 and gets in a 9pm. Sounds like slightly more fun, but would require me finding accommodation in Madrid tonight. And that did not sound like fun. Going to Madrid in the morning from Córdoba was not an option for cheap. Thus I had two choices: spending the whole day on train, getting to Barcelona on Monday night, or taking the overnight train tomorrow night (Monday night). The prospect of looking for a place on Monday night did not apeal to me, and coupled with the fact that a whole day on a train sounded like it would completely suck, I opted to stay in Córdoba an extra day and treat myself to a Moorish bath.

A re-creation of what a 14th century Arab bath might look like, complete with candles, music and the lot, Hamman Baths was definitely worth the 27€, even though it included 10 loudmouthed middle-aged Spaniards. You had three baths - hot cold, and lukewarm. You weren't supposed to stay in the hot or cold for very long - which I happily adhered to for the cold - but I spent most of my time in the hot. The lukewarm was for sitting and relaxing in. The Spanish spend most of their time there, and it was anything but relaxing with their constant laughter and banter. Violating the rule of silence in the baths, none of them could resist remarking how unbelievably hot the hot baths were. For a country that's renowned for its hot summers, Andaluces seem to be particularly bothered by heat. The expression usually used outside is "¡joé, qué caló!" (joder que calor) which translated roughly as "Fuck, it's hot!"

Whether it's actually hot or not is debatable. In Cádiz last week, I heard an older woman mutter 'joé qué caló' when it was 65 degrees and the wind was blowing softly.

In any case, Hamman baths was a winner. They even threw in a 5 minute massage in the middle of your three hour bath time.