Tapas in Olite

After four-and-a-half hours in the car, Michael and I are both weary — and hungry.  Our luggage is tucked away in the old part of the Spanish castle in the ancient village of Olite; we head to a tiny tavern at the edge of the square.

Ordering cervesa for Michael and vino rosado for me, we decide on an assortment of tapas displayed in a glass case to get us through the afternoon.  Michael won’t choose what he doesn’t recognize, so he settles for a sandwich with ham and cheese peeking between the slices of bread.  I choose what I think is the same, but discover it is an omelet sandwich.  Eating half of it and shoving the rest toward Michael, I return to the interior of the tavern and get what I really want—a stuffed pickle and a square fried thing. Both delicious.

The fried thing is a thin slice of Jamon sandwiched between two thick slices of cheese, battered, breaded, and fried—crispy, cheesy, salty, gooey. Heaven!  The pickle— stuffed with tuna, celery, and mild onion—an inside-out tuna salad; a guiltless tapas.

Olite Castle

Reading the instructions before me, I see that if I want to tour the castle in the correct order, I must climb 134 steps to the top and work my way down. I ask myself—how did I decide on Olite? How did I even know Olite existed? I try hard to remember—and 134 steps?  I hadn’t bargained on 134 steps.

As I climb, I discover that the castle was begun in 1402 by Charles III, a Frenchman who was King of Navarre(Basque Country).  In the 15thcentury, Olite Castle was one of the most beautiful and opulent in Europe.  The castle, mostly destroyed in 1813 during the War of Independence, was rebuilt beginning in 1937.  I am awed at the undertaking of the Spanish people—the castle soars and rambles.

At 5 p.m., we crash, waking at 7:00, just in time to get ready for our 8:30 dinner. With thirty minutes to spare, our feet take us outside and into the early evening. We are greeted by many Olites of all ages, playing, drinking, and visiting with neighbors. My feet barely touch the ground—I love this tiny town with its tall walled canyons of cut stone, glass windows, tiny balconies, and narrow streets.

Dinner

Lingering, dining, drinking — for over two hours.  Dinner is spectacular! The complimentary olives served with our wine are so tender and mild. Slightly salty—not bitter. The local Ochoa wine— inexpensive and delicious.  The salad of melon, Jamon, tender leaves, and seared goat cheese—totally, totally perfect.  Lamb chops so tiny and so good that by the time dessert arrives, I can barely take two bites of the fried cream. The Spanish coffee I sip is rich and strong.

Olite by Moonlight

Before heading upstairs, we decide to see Olite by moonlight.  The moon is full; children play on the grass in front of the castle, adults drink at sidewalk cafes.  We walk.  We sit.  Lingering just a bit longer—wishing that we had more than this tiny whisper of time to be in Olite.