Salamanca’s Plaza Mayor, Spain’s grandest square, seems to celebrate life. Strolling across the square with Carlos, my guide, we passed a young man walking alone who suddenly burst into song. I asked Carlos why and he said, “Doesn’t it happen where you live?”
Northwest of Madrid (1.5 hours by high-speed train), Salamanca is youthful and untouristy, displaying its mighty monuments, clusters of cloisters, and magnificent square with quiet pride.
Carlos and I sat down at a table with a prime view of the square and all its people-action. Carlos ordered us a simple but elegant meal: a plate of cured ham, patatas bravas (chunks of potatoes with tomato sauce), and glasses of robust local red wine. When the ham arrived, he told of his grandpa thinly carving a jamón, supported in a jamonero (ham holder) during Christmas, painting a holiday image that reminded me of my dad carving the turkey at Thanksgiving….