Sampling Jerez

A lot of people don't realize that bears like a nice glass of sherry now & again. Not all bears, of course. Some prefer liqueurs while others like a digestif. Many years ago, when I did my first photo shoot in Madrid for the Spanish version of GQ (I was an international fashion model then), I was introduced to manzanilla - and it's still my favourite tipple.

Manzanilla belongs to the fino sherry family and its name means "chamomile" - like the flower and the tea. In fact, it's called manzanilla because people think it tastes like the tea. I think it tastes like sherry but what do I know? Bears normally drink green tea - not chamomile - because it regulates our body temperature, which is very important during the hibernation season.

Anyway, since I am now in Spain, I decided to do a "sherry tour" and I took a few days off - with my bipedal attendants - to visit two bodegas in Jerez. We started off at the Gonzales Byass Sherry house - the home of Tío Pepe (see me above with Tío ). As a former international fashion model, I really admire Tío 's sense of style. Like me, he's minimalist chic! No wonder he was once painted by Pablo Picasso.

González Byass is the best selling brand in the world. They use palomino grapes to make their sherry which I thought was a bit odd because I always assumed that palominos were horses. I don't think they use horses to make their sherry though. I need to look into this because I am a vegetarian bear.

We also visited the winery of Domecq, whose bodega is called La Mezquita, or "the Mosque", and has Moorish arches and beautiful whitewashed walls. They were very generous with their sampling (as you can see, above-left) and they encouraged us to open and try everything. So we did. I confess that I baulked at having to wear a name badge at Domecq because it just confirms to those who aren't 100% certain that it's me, that it's me. Just to be safe, I took an assumed name but I was still swarmed at the gift shop.

Domecq is also the home of Harvey's Bristol Cream, the favourite sherry of one of my bipedal attendant's mother. She bought a bottle of one of their new products Harvey's Orange - a blend of the Bristol Cream and a twist of natural orange essence. What says Spain better than sherry and oranges? Needless to say, the bottle didn't last too long although no one offered to share it with me. Why do people think that bears are teetotalers?

What was interesting about both bodegas were the signed casks. Over the years, many famous people have visited both Domecq and González Byass and have left their marks on the oak casks. You can see the signatures of the Spanish Royal Family (past & present), Steven Spielburg, Pablo Picasso, Paloma Picasso, Charleton Heston, famous international heads of states, athletes, Hollywood-types and, of course, me! (Once again, my name badge failed me - I was recognized!)

I still have to return to the area and visit the Osborne winery in El Puerto de Santa María - home of excellent wines and sherries and, of course, el toro muy famoso - the Osborne bull. Rumour has it that there is a spot in the town's plaza where witches were once burned and, as a Freelance Goodwill Ambassador, I think it's important that I go to El Puerto de Santa María to acknowledge the people who died there at the hands of ignorance and intolerance. And have a glass of sherry. What a great world it is when you can make a difference in the lives of your fellow planet-dwellers and, at the same time, enjoy a nice glass of Pedro Ximenez Viejo and a handful of olives.

The Straight on the Strait of Gib from G.B.

Bears don't have pockets so I never seem to have change. I have a pair of bipedal attendants but they're notoriously unreliable. This normally isn't a big deal but when I first visited Gibraltar - or Gib - I wanted to make a few phone calls from their groovy phone booths. Unfortunately I had to settle for a photo op. I don't mind adding that, when I was there, there was quite the line-up to have one's picture taken in a traditional English phone booth. Some people are such attention seekers.

I like Gib because it's geographically and historically interesting and because my bipedal attendants can drink excellent English beer and that keeps them quiet. Western Europe and Morocco are divided by the Strait of Gibraltar and this strait is linked by the so-called Pillars of Hercules, with Gib on the north and probably Jebel Musa on the south. No one can really decide about the Moroccan bit. There are two other Moroccan towns vying for the crown but, to be honest, it's only Gib I really care about here.

Besides being a former international fashion model and freelance Goodwill Ambassador, I spend a lot of time signing autographs and reading the Classics. One of the 12 Labours of Hercules was to return the cattle of Geryon from Spain to the king of Tiryns. En route he had to climb the mountain which was actually once the giant Atlas but he decided to smash a path through it rather than go up and down it. Using his brute strength, he split the mountain. Not only could he pass directly through it but Hercules also effectively joined the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea. Voilà: the Strait of Gibraltar.

The people of Gib have commemorated this rather destructive feat of engineering by erecting the "Passage of Time" memorial at the Jew's Gate on the Upper Rock - which underscores Gibraltar's association with the Pillars of Hercules. You can see me between the two pillars and although I'm strong (I am a bear after all) I'm not strong enough to support the world!

Not far from the Jew's Gate are the Apes dens. I don't know if bears and apes have gotten along well historically - although I'd like to think so - but I didn't have much of a chance to talk to these ones. One of my bipedal attendants (the female one) is a little freaked out by monkeys, so we didn't spend too much time here.

These Barbary rock apes - or Macaques - are awfully used to people. Visitors to the Rock like to have their photos taken with the apes and sometimes even feed them. But it's important to remember that they are still wild animals. As a Goodwill Ambassador I am a role model to millions of people and I have to respect the law. Needless to say, I didn't feed the apes. Even if I had wanted to - and I didn't because it is against the law - my bipedal attendant (the female one) would never have allowed it.

I've been to Gib half a dozen times now and although I always risk being mobbed by autograph hounds, I love visiting. It reminds me of my former international fashion model days when I would fly to London for my shoots - but this is better! Not only can I drive a right-hand drive car (although I usually employ a driver), have a pint of Fuller's London Pride and buy a bag of crisps at Marks & Spencer, I can enjoy the balmy climate of the Mediterranean! England with palm trees! This is a bear's - and an apes' - paradise!

The Bridges of Madison County Ronda

That's me in the Andalucian town of Ronda which just happens to be the "sister city" to Chefchaouen, the Moroccan "blue" city which made my classic grey flannel look so - well - classically grey. Can you see the bridge behind me? It's a very famous bridge and, at 98 metres, a very high one too. Legend (or rumour - although I'm not sure what the difference is) has it that during the Spanish Civil War, communist sympathizers were thrown off of it into the chasm far far far below at the bottom of the El Tajo canyon. It's known as the New Bridge or the Puente Nuevo although it's not very nuevo since it was erected over 200 years ago.

This isn't the only bridge in Ronda: there are 2 others, the Roman Bridge and the Old Bridge (also known as the Arab Bridge). That's me again (below) in front of the Roman Bridge although, like the Puente Nuevo, that's a bit of a misnomer as it probably doesn't date that far back.

While I was having my photo taken I was swarmed by a group of backpackers who obviously recognized me from my former international fashion model days or in my current incarnation as a freelance Goodwill Ambassador. The mother of one of my bipedal attendants, who was travelling with us that day, told them that my photoshoot was for a forthcoming book, which is a bit of a lie. Worse yet, I'll never be able to travel again in anonymity!

So except for the seemingly endless autograph session and posing for photo after photo (I hope they won't be too disappointed when they realize that no book is forthcoming), we did have a fabulous day taking in the sites of Ronda. Having said that, I must confess that I wasn't prepared for the Lara Museum.

The Lara Museum is, in this bear's opinion, a bit odd. The museum, housed in the Palace of the Counts of the Conquest, showcases some 2,000 treasures - the fruits of a lifetime of collecting - of a private individual. Its clocks, weapons, scientific instruments, archaeological artifacts, knives and catapults, tauromachy (the "art" of bullfighting), and photographic & cinematic items are all conveniently arranged in separate rooms. Perhaps most bizarrely though, is that there are no bear rooms - I meant to ask why but I couldn't seem to find the appropriate personnel.

But it's the so-called exhibitions that really creeped me out (and as a bear I am not creeped out easily); namely the Spanish Inquisition exhibition with its instruments of torture and the witchcraft exhibition with its bottles of mandrake root and wolfmen. No bearmen though. I've spoken about the unthinkable cruelties that Humankind has perpetrated against bulls and bears in this blog but perhaps it's necessary to remind ourselves that people can be just as cruel to other people. As a former international fashion model and freelance Goodwill Ambassador, it is my duty to ask that we all find a way to get along.

On weekends evenings, you can take in a Flamenco show on the same floor as the two exhibitions. I don't know how much I'd enjoy the dancing and singing knowing that a rack, an inquisition chair, a garrotte, a heretic's fork, thumb screws, and a Judas cradle - just to name a few of what's on display - are just a few feet behind me. But I suppose there is something of pain and torment in flamenco. I just hope they don't use any of those hanging cages or head crushers in the act.

In Search of Andrés Segovia

It often happens with world-travelling bears – especially with former international fashion models and freelance Good Will Ambassadors – that our gruelling schedules don’t allow us to blog as much as we’d like to. I have been especially guilty lately and for this I apologise. My New Year’s Resolution – yes, even bears make resolutions – is to be a more conscientious blogger. Truth is that I’ve been travelling about Spain for the past month – visiting monuments, sipping sherry and signing autographs. At the beginning of December, my bipedal attendants took me to Segovia where I assumed I had been scheduled to meet Andrés Segovia. Or more precisely, "El señor don Andrés Torres Segovia, marqués de Salobreña". King Juan Carlos gave him that title in 1981 - and I thought " fashion model and freelance Good Will Ambassador" was a mouthful! Unfortunately, the world renowned classical guitarist isn't even from Segovia (which is very confusing and I think he should have changed his name earlier on), nor is he alive. How embarrassing. Not that I would have found him – even if he were still alive – because that weekend’s fog hid the city in a thick blanket of white. When it wasn’t raining. Not much fun when you have a film crew photographer among your retinue, but such are the vagaries of international jet-setting.

Segovia – in spite of the fog, rain, and freezing cold – was (or is) an amazing city. And as much as I loved Toledo, I think I preferred Segovia. The Romans made it a military town (and as a freelance Good Will Ambassador I don’t really approve of military things), it was later made a centre of the textile industry by those invading Moors. About 920 years ago, Spanish Christians captured it and made Segovia a royal residence. In 1474, Isabel (of Ferdinand & Isabel fame) was crowned queen of Castile here.

I’m pretty pleased with the photos of me at the aqueduct. True, you can barely (bearly!) see me, what with the grey sky and all, but I can’t be angry with my photographer or the weather. Not really anyway. Segovia’s aqueduct is one of the best examples of Roman architecture in the world and I was just grateful to have had the opportunity to see it in person (or bear-son). It’s almost 3000 feet in length (which I should know in meters but I don’t) but in any case, it’s very long.

The Alcázar would have provided an excellent photo shoot as well but again the weather was not very cooperative. This too dates from Roman times although it was expanded and remodelled during the 14th and 15th centuries, and then completely rehauled after a fire about 150 years ago. The oldest bit is the castle keep which you see as you first walk in the castle. I had hoped to have my photo taken there but apparently there was an issue regarding light readings or something. Photographers!

I really enjoyed my short stay in Segovia – except for all the dead piglets chilling on ice in the city’s restaurants’ windows, waiting to become a rather pricey dish of cochinillo. Such a difficult city for a vegan bear! I would have liked to show you photos of the cathedral and the Crusader church but, as I may have mentioned, weather was a factor. As it turns out, the weather improved significantly the morning we left; in fact, my sources tell me that it was all blue skies and sunshine thereafter. Which reminds me that I have to have a word with my schedulers. It’s not like weather reports are beyond their understanding.

Bear Baiting 101

I know that I've spoken a bit about bull fighting in Spain and how awful it is but I'm mindful that I'm still a bear and bears face some pretty terrible things in this world too. Not to take anything away from the bulls though. So I'm going to put my freelance Good Will Ambassador hat back on and talk about something very close to my heart: bear baiting.

Bear baiting? Sounds like something out of medieval Europe doesn't it? Well it was but it's still practised in parts of rural Pakistan.

These unfortunate bears are tethered to a post to await the incessant attacks by several savage pit bull terriers trained to inflict injury. The bears can move but they can't escape and they can't really defend themselves either because their claws, canine teeth & incisors have been plucked - itself a painful procedure. Since molars can't be wrenched out they are usually crushed by a hammer. Poor bears.

Up to 2,000 men will stand around them in a circle and watch and cheer and wager on the outcome. The odds are stacked heavily against the bears. Although illegal (Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act of 1890, under the Pakistan Wildlife Act, and it's proscribed under Islamic Law too), bear-baiting is a traditional 'sporting' event. This is an afternoon's entertainment. Poor bears. Poor dogs too.

The bears are owned and trained by the Kalanders (a gypsy group) who specialise in training Asiatic black bears. It is believed that there are fewer than 300 Asiatic black bears still in the wild in Pakistan. The adult bears are killed but the cubs are sold to the Kalanders who train them. I don't know how much training is necessary when you're tied to a stake - your only natural weapons of defence having already been removed - and killer dogs lunge for your head.

Bears sustain more injuries than dogs and are permanently scarred with ripped noses and mouths and much worse. Because the bears are so valuable to their owners, they are not put of their suffering but kept alive for future 'fights'. Poor bears. Dogs tend to be far better cared for.

This 'sport' is kept alive by a finely honed network of hunters, wildlife dealers, gypsy bear owners and land owners. But it has to stop now. The World Society for the Protection of Animals (WSPA) has spent a great deal of money on the construction of a sanctuary for rescued bears. The sanctuary is at Kund Park in the northwest of Pakistan. I'd like to visit there to try to cheer those bears up.

Click here to help WSPA in their fight against this barbaric practice. It only takes a minute to send a letter, but think of the difference you can make in a bear's life.

p.s. I was going to feature a photo from a bear-baiting spectacle but I just couldn't. They're too disturbing. Poor bears. Poor dogs.

Bulls and Bears

When most people talk about bulls and bears, they're usually talking about the Stock Exchange and Wall Street. I only know a little about these things myself. Well, I actually know absolutely nothing because as a former international fashion model and current freelance Good Will Ambassador bear, I have my own financial manager and accountant to worry about things like that. So really, this post should be called "Bulls and the Bear". But it's not. I think I need a new secretary.

Anyway, a few Sundays ago my bipedal attendants took me to visit La Plaza de Toro de las Ventas, which is Madrid's premier bullring. It's a really nice building but the fact is, a lot of animals die there, and it made me really sad. An animal myself and a current freelance Good Will Ambassador bear, I can't help but be affected by the suffering of others. I did have my photo taken with Las Ventas' iconic statue (top left) in which it appears that a matador is flying through the air after being charged by a bull. I like that statue because it seems that the bull is winning. Very few bulls win though.

There are many Madrileños who want bullfighting banned. Last month, with the backing of 2 left-wing deputies and about 70 associations, some 30 arts and sports personalities presented a motion before the Spanish parliament, which demanded the "abolition of all types of ritual spectacle that includes the ill-treatment, death or torture of animals." They neglected to ask me to join them - obviously an oversight on behalf of their planners - but I support them 100%! Parliament is debating a draft law on animal rights but I'm not holding my breath - bullfighting has deep roots in Spain. It's been around for thousands of years - at least since the days of Emperor Claudius 2,000 years ago.

In 2004, Barcelona voted to become a bullfighting-free city but unfortunately, that decision was overturned. Fellow blogger Kalebeul recently featured a video prefaced with these comments:

"Village bullfighting is far more exciting and beautiful than the formalised crap on offer in big rings like Barcelona’s Monumental, but if the photo above gives some idea of the upside, the downside involves stuff like dwarf bullfighters cutting fillets off animals as they race past because they’re too short to plunge the sword in from above."

The photos were pretty grizzly and I couldn't even look at the video. That just makes me so sad. By the time we all left La Plaza de Toro, we needed to exorcise the spirits of those poor tortured bulls. On a warm autumn day the only thing that came to mind was a pint on a sidewalk pub. That helped. But only just a little.

If, like me, you want to see an end to this horrific 'sport', you can e-mail Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero at jlrzapatero@presidencia.gob.es and the Ministry of the Interior (which governs bullfights in Spain) at estafeta@mir.es

Until then, maybe I should extend my duties and become a freelance Good Will Ambassador bear for bulls.

A (Grey) Bear in Madrid

There are bears in Madrid and not just in the zoo!

Imagine how thrilled I was to find that I'm not the only bear here - although I may be the only grey-coloured bear and I'm certainly the only former international fashion model and current freelance Good Will Ambassador bear.

You can see me (left) next to the city's iconic statue, "El Oso y El Madroño". This is Madrid's most popular meeting place for people, possibly because of its location at the junction of Puerta del Sol and Calle Carmen - kilometer zero, the very heart of the city - but more likely because people just want to see the bear. Who wouldn't? There are always crowds of people having their picture taken with El Oso and sometimes they can be a bit of a pain because they block your access to the sidewalk but I know how it is. The day that I had my picture taken with 'el oso' it was pandemonium. Sometimes I forget how famous I am in Europe. Just like David Hasselhoff.

But the bear, you ask. Why a bear? And why is it leaning against a tree? Well it's not just any tree, it's a strawberry tree - or a Madroño tree - although the strawberries aren't real strawberries but they are red like strawberries. The bear is real though. The bear and tree are actually on Madrid's coat of arms so almost everywhere you look in the city, there's a bear! You can see Madrid's bear decorating the entrances to restaurants and pubs - even on manhole covers, although I guess those would be bearhole covers. I wanted to have my picture taken with one of those but my bipedal attendants were concerned that I'd get dirty. There are sacrifices I have to make to maintain my image.

Madrid's bear is actually a she-bear, which would make her an osa not an oso. If you look closely at her, you can see that she's a girl- or at least not a boy-bear. This symbol of the city goes back to the 13th century when there were lots of bears in the area. The strawberry tree represented an agreement made between the Church and State over disputed land claims: the Church got the pasture lands and the State (or Madrid) got the trees. In the actual coat of arms, the bear also has 7 stars which represent the stars of the constellation ursa minor (little bear).

Interestingly, the painting The Garden of Earthly Delights by Dutch painter Hieronymus Bosch which is here in Madrid was catalogued as "the picture with the strawberry-tree fruits" in the inventories of the Spanish Crown. Later it was renamed. I like the first name much better. Although I have to admit that the painting is a little bizarre - not the sort of thing that bears normally like, what with the scenes of animals torturing people - but as a former international fashion model and now freelance Good Will Ambassador, I've been exposed to a lot of cultural things. I understand various allegorical themes.

Is it any wonder that I feel so at home here in Madrid or that busloads of Japanese tourists often chase me down the street with their cameras? I thought it was because they recognized me as a former international fashion model and now freelance Good Will Ambassador but maybe it’s because they think I’m Madrid’s El Oso. Although anyone can see that I’m grey and not brown.