Upper Aragon
Meeting the origins
Eighty percent of Mr. @tripticity_'s blood comes from Aragon, so it was unavoidable to make a visit to these lands of the Pyrenees.
Therefore, we took a rental car at the Delicias station in Zaragoza and drove along the highway to Huesca. From there we took the secondary roads that go up the mountains until we reached Tramacastilla de Tena, Grandma Josefa's village.
It is located in the Pyrenees, at 1224 meters above sea level. It is a picturesque village that serves as a center for those who want to enjoy the snow in the mountains.
It has a 12th century Romanesque church. Right next door, in the cemetery, Mr. @tripticity_ was able to find his great-grandparents, in what was one of the most sensitive moments of the trip.
We strolled through its tiny center and returned to the road in the direction of Bergua. But on the way, we passed through two other great-grandparents' villages. Viú, which turned out to be another village of a handful of small houses, and Broto, a much larger village also at the service of sky tourism, with bars and hotels for visitors.
A more rural and winding road and we arrived at Bergua, where Genaro was born. That grandfather who was missing in his childhood and who called him to reach this remote hamlet in the Pyrenees.
Clearly, it was of great importance in past centuries, from the ruins of its church and tall buildings. All of them made of stone, which is evidence of its antiquity.
After the moment of silent connection with Casa El Herrero, grandfather Genaro's birthplace, we went down to Huesca, where a glorious meeting awaited us.
First we made a quick tour of its historic center, passing by the 16th century Cathedral of Huesca, and the Monastery of San Pedro el Viejo, to arrive on time at the Café del Arte, right next to the Casino, in front of the Plaza de Navarra. On its terrace we met María del Carmen and the brilliant Carmen María, mother and daughter, direct relatives, just on the day of the latter's bachelorette party. It felt like a party, that early dinner and lively chat in which the Aragonese blood of both sides of the Atlantic was forever re-bonded.
As we drove back in the dark of the night on the highway to Zaragoza, we could not help but be thankful for so many emotions together in just one day.
