11/02/2015
New review of the Casa Palacio de Carmona just in from Amy Sohanpaul of Traveller Magazine of Wexas Travel (www.wexas.com)
Spanish Sojourn
THERE IS AN OLD ANDALUCIAN PROVERB THAT
states “The Sky and earth are good – that which lies in between is bad”. It comes from a time when life was so hard for most people in this famously scenic part of Spain the only certainties were that the rugged earth of the region would provide just enough, and that heaven would be better, hold real riches. And in some of Andalucia, even now, especially now perhaps, that still holds true. Yet there is so much good to be found here in what lies in between, not least the travellers’ trinity of Seville, Cordoba and Granada, so well known; and sitting prettily on a hilltop betwixt all of them the no-as-well-known little town of Carmona.
Carmona has something of a secret and enchanted feel, despite being so close to Seville, 25 minutes in a taxi, or 15 in a car driven by François. I met François after supper on the second night at Casa Palacio de Carmona, it’s that kind of place, everyone talks to everyone. The hotel actually feels even more enchanted than Carmona itself. This is partly because of the succession of courtyards filled with plants, the sound of fountains, frequent bursts of birdsong, the moment of sun and shadow, the smell of oranges during the day, of jasmine as night falls.
It’s partly de to the sumptuousness of the public rooms, lined with art and fine books and finer furnishings, invitins and comforting, not in the least stuffy. It’s partly because each of the 33 rooms within this palace dating back to 1561 is individually and painstakingly decorated. It’s partly because of all these matters of style and situation.
But mostly it’s because of the people, the charming owner Felipe Guardiola Medina, his wife Reyes, elegant enough to have walked out of the pages of a glossy fashion magazine, both so hospitable, their children so golden and sunny, flirting through with their friends; and Gonzalo, who does reception and bar and breakfast, deals with every query with courteous grace and efficiency from seven to eleven and often later than that. And during his weeks off teaches childen in Ethiopia and also happens to be a superb photographer and writer. At the enf of four days I feel like I’ve been staying with friends, in a home away from home.
And that is what makes this place special. It was originally a private residence, albeit a grand one, and it has retained that feel. And like all good homes, it’s idiosyncratic too. What it’s not is your standard 5-star. On the way to Carmona, the driver turned and remarked with approval, “Ah, you’re staying at the Palacio, 5-stars.” I think this billing might actually do the place a disservice, in that some people might turn up expecting a bijou version of the Four Seasons, round-the clock room service, and shiny glitzy trappings and a pool far larger than the charming little one, and a vast retinue of liveried staff and all those sort of several-star things, when what’s on offer is more individual, a different sort of luxury, and the rates here incidentally are nowhere near 5-star. Those who are expecting a standardised seamless experience might not fall for the place, but most people who stay seem to love it.
I found out, over a late night conversation with Reyes in the main courtyard, the sort of conversation where you stop to look up at the stars in silence and then return to, without changing the subject, that past gusts have included BBKing and the entire Bollywood cast, Mario Testino and George Lucas. We talk of Star Wars and music and stop again to enjoy tne night and the smell of jasmine, and the she says, “But you know, the thing I’ll never forget is Yo Yo Ma, playing the cello one night like this, here in this courtyard, not for a performance, he just decided to… you could have cried from the sound of it.”
It’s quite hard to leave the courtyard actually, night or day, harder when I discover Felipe is an incredibly talented chef. As one late morning segues into early afternoon and I’ve moved from this sunnies seat to the next, absorbed in a book, I realise I’m starving but am not in the mood for a walk that’s going to interrupt the here and now, and wonder what’s on the menu for lunch. Felipe says, today I have anchovies with tomatoes. Or I can make you a risotto with fresh asparagus, And I have a sea bass. But if you like, it’s so hot, maybe some clams?” I have those clams and they turn out to be the best I’ve ever tasted – so simple – a liberal amount of garlic, the right amount of chilli, parsley, cooked in white wine, the slightest squeeze of lemon – such briny, spiky, fresh and at the same time intense flavours – the broth is so delicious I scoop up every last drop and want more.
I eat out all over the place in Carmona over the course of my stay, but no one serves me anything as delicious as the dishes creates out of very few, but impeccable ingredients. There was griddled asparagus with a fried egg and truffles, simple yet sophisticated and just a little decadent, a perfect steak, a bowl of Gazpacho with a dice of fresh sardines… none of it overly complex or accessorised. Every meal is food enough though to make me remember it later, lying in bed, replete, and running through the day’s events in my head, the white walls of Carmona, its Roman gates and ruins, the hidden churches, how pretty much every single person you pass along the way smiles and nods, the streets that are silent all afternoon, the square that explodes with birdsong and children playing in the early evening, the coming back to the courtyard at the Casa to hear another story or two under the stars.
By Amy Sohanpaul
Traveller Vol 45 No. 1 2015 pp. 66-67
