For contest #341, we dust off a street sign to find a magical town named after a very persistent rebel.
(For the View From Your Window contest, the results below exceed the content limit for Substack’s email service, so to ensure that you see the full results, click the headline above.)
First up, a followup from the sleuth last week who captured on video a shoutout to Andrew’s first book on an episode of “The Practice” 25 years ago:
Hi! Thanks so much for the note. Here are my responses to the contest results in order of occurrence:
FUCK fuckity fuckity fuck fuck fuck!
Congrats to the winner.
This is always a blast, and thank you for putting me on the Correct Guesser list!
By the way, if you want to see the entire episode of “The Practice” where Virtually Normal was cited, it’s called The Civil Right - S2 E13. One of the characters’ mothers comes to him, and he agrees to represent her in a test case arguing in favour of same-sex marriage. This was despite the character’s rancor toward lesbians and same-sex relationships in general, which was so very au courant in 1997.
A little housekeeping: In last week’s contest, there was a lot of uncertainty over which window corresponded to Room 619. So our super-sleuth in Kingston picked up the phone:
Just for fun, I send the Hilton the image on which I circled what I thought was the window. An assistant manager named Matilda marked room 619 with an X and returned it. I was not far off:
A sleuth in Chicago asks, “Is there room for one more NZ entry?”
When I visited about seven years ago, I made it a point to take several LOTR tours. I would strongly recommend that those wishing to see Hobbiton take the earliest advertised tour. It costs at least a couple hundred dollars more than the other tours, and I justified the expense by telling myself that since I wasn’t planning on visiting NZ again, I may as well splurge. It’s basically a private tour with no more than eight people, and because it’s the earliest tour, one doesn’t have to navigate around and through hundreds of other tourists. The included meal at the Green Dragon Inn was remarkably good, as I recall.
Bonus points for major beardage. On to this week’s window:
At first this seems impossible, as the homes are so crowded you can’t see much of a view and the distant mountains in the corner could be anywhere. But wait, there’s a street sign — but NO, it’s covered with a beagle.
But there are still clues. First, the word “calle” — it limits the scene to the gargantuan percentage of the Earth’s surface once covered by the Spanish empire. Okay, not that helpful. But the sign is also made of tile, which I believe is mostly known in Spain. Not sure of that, but I need to narrow it down somehow and the overall scene is just a scratch too neat and charming for most of Latin America.
Okay, so time to google Spain, blue-tile street signs, white houses, red bottoms. Still not much to go by. Too few trees for Galicia. Probably Andalusia, although not the most arid part. Stab in dark: Gentilicio, Andalusia, Spain.
Another Spain entry comes from a sleuth in Winnipeg:
Having just “realized” it’s Friday by seeing Andrew’s column via email, this is a pitiful attempt to get the right location. My WAG is Salamanca, Spain, based on the street sign in the photo. But I’ll be on vacation next week and will try harder!
Our super-sleuth in Chattanooga jumps across the ocean to Cuba:
Fridays sure come quick this summer. I ran across a picture from Havana with a similarly red base a meter up against white plaster walls. Nothing else about this reads like colorful Havana architecture, so I’m thinking somewhere more remote and maybe inland. I’m surprised how many townships in Cuba bear the names of other countries. So to cover my first fruitless guess, let’s go with Jamaica, Cuba, north of Gitmo. I guess there’s no Google street view in Cuba, so no window to offer — just a stab.
Another country-named township in Cuba comes from a sleuth in Alabama:
Unlike last week, I am not certain of the city, but I am guessing Trinidad, Cuba. Here’s why. First, the partially visible “Calle” street sign is leading me somewhere like Cuba, Spain, or Mexico. But the red-tiled roofs, I’ve learned, are consistent with Cuban architecture. Some more googling about cobblestone streets led me to the town of Trinidad — a smaller, less well-known area than Havana.
Yet more Google image searching has me pretty certain. Doesn’t this image just scream that I’m in the right place?
Lastly, I’m not certain, but I think I spy the Cerro de la Vigía radio transmitter in the upper right-hand corner. My googling says this radio tower is in the same red-and-white pattern as seen in the submitter’s view. I discovered this gem of a hint on a “best of Trinidad” visitors page that recommends what must be a vigorous hike.
Another sleuth tries to decipher the street sign:
I’m pretty sure the tile street marker covered in Dusty points to “Calle José Espinoza,” but that’s about as helpful as Third Avenue would be in the States. Streets named after national heroes are repeated in city after city and town after town.
Another goes with Peru:
I’m guessing the sign says “Jose Maria Plaza,” so let’s go with 308 Av. Jose Maria Plaza in Lima. I had a buddy play rugby for the Peruvian national team once. That’s all I’ve got.
Chini’s got this: