Again, it’s been eons since I’ve updated this, but I’m back in the States now and I just feel I should round it up smoothly. So first, I’ll say goodbye to Spain and then tell a cool tale or two about Greece and Turkey. Get ready for thousands of words.
My last few weeks in Sevilla were unbelievable. I spent as much time with my friends as I could and studied a bit for my final exams. More of the former. We spent days lounging on the roof of the study center and nights gathering by the river and bidding “buenas noches” to our favorite bartenders. I took my camera out for a spin to revisit some of my favorite places in the city so I’d have permanent images of the Keith Haring couch in the furniture store window I passed every day and my favorite Moorish building that looks like a very tall gingerbread house. There is so much that I will miss about Sevilla. The Spanish people are wonderful and the Americans in my program are unforgettable. The good news about leaving is that I can always go back and visit the Spanish people and I get to take my Americans home with me! (Well, close anyway.) I had my last meal with my Señora Julia and crossed the Guadalquivir River one more time before I left very early one morning and said “hasta luego” to Spain. Good thing about “hasta luego” is that it implies you’ll be back one day. And that I will.
It cushioned the sad blow of leaving Spain to know I was heading out on a rather fantastic trip. My next adventures brought me, my friend Abby from our Sevilla program, and my friend Emily from home, to Greece!
Abby and I endured a hellish day of traveling from Sevilla to Madrid to Athens. We lugged half a semester’s worth of stuff through train stations and airports and finally sat on the metro from the Athens airport into the city sweaty and beat. The train car slowly started to fill up and we knew we’d eventually have to move our luggage from the extra seats we claimed. However, we didn’t quite expect to be barked at in Greek to stand so these women could park themselves as we stood crammed against the walls of the car with our bags piled around us. Then, as we were leaving the car in the metro station, some woman yelled after me in Greek and threw a grocery bag full of deli sandwiches at my feet before the doors closed. As if getting a large stack of paper-wrapped poultry thrown at me wasn’t bad enough, now Abby and I had to live with the guilt of depriving some poor, absent-minded bloke on the train of his sandwiches!
We eventually arrived at our hostel in Athens, luckily located in the heart of the city so we could avoid further transportation hooha. Emily would arrive the next morning, so Abby and I cleaned up and went out to get ourselves some good Greek grub. I found after a few meals that there was very little bad Greek grub. We were quite content. Then we crashed.
Emily arrived the next day and the three of us packed as much ancient Greek fun as we could into our days. We went to the Acropolis (Parthenon, Temple of Athena Nike, Dionysos Theater, Herodeion), Filopappou (the Prison of Socrates, Filopappou Monument, the PNYX), Ancient Agora, the Temple of Olympian Zeus, Hadrian’s Arch, Zappeio and the National Gardens. Everything was pretty close together, so we really got to explore as much as we wanted. One day we spent an afternoon getting somewhat closer than our parents probably would have approved to the banking district. We saw the changing of the guard (an amusing little dance two armed guards get to perform to ogling and mocking tourists) at Parliament and then moved on past bullet-ridden security booths and window-shattered apartment buildings to see a protest in front of some government building, complete with a full police team on standby. I had to at least try to take some pictures, so I risked it and then got shouted at by approaching police so we made a u-turn and boogied out of the conflict zone.
Athens was a historically rich and exciting city, but we had islands ahead of us so we weren’t leaving in tears. Ferry to Santorini. Van ride up cliffs in the late afternoon sunshine. Staying in our own, PRIVATE hostel room just two minutes from the beach. Santorini made us proud.
For our first day we rented ATVs and buzzed all around the island. It’s a really popular thing to do there, which is great because it’s a pretty big island and there happen to be pretty gorgeous things to see at every which side of it. We rented two ATVs and the three of us braided every few rides so we’d each get time to drive. After zooming around a gorgeous island on an ATV for two days, I’m seriously considering buying one. SO FUN! We drove around to little hilltop (completely blue and white) villages and checked out a few beaches. We went to one called Red Beach. It’s just down the shore from White Beach- I asked if in between was a Pink Beach but the ATV guide didn’t find that very funny. We had to hike over a rocky edge to get to red beach, but the small, secluded space was way worth it. We spent a few hours playing in the sun and surf before eagerly hopping back on our ATVs and heading to Fira, a central town that promised good shopping. Fira was way touristy, but also offered some stunningly postcard-esque views of white building covered cliffs and the volcano in the caldera.
From Fira we returned to our mission to see the sunset from Oia (spelled about 29384 different ways but pronounced Ee-yah). It was a pretty far drive and we ATVed the whole way. I drove and I’m pretty sure my right hand was bordering on carpel tunnel syndroming. Still, the drive was way worth it. The town was very charming and clearly more upscale than where we stayed. After a lovely sunset, we jumped back on the ATVs for a much longer drive home. We had stopped in other cities on our way there and it was daytime. With the sun gone it got really cold and I drove again so my hand had to hold the gas lever down for over an hour. It was quite adventurous steering along cliffs as cars overtake you (it felt fast to me, but I guess 55 km/hour is slow for a car) and you strain your eyes to see the road signs directing you every which way across Santorini. Still fun though. And on our way back we picked up some extra large gyroses and sat waiting in the restaurant for them without removing our giant helmets. Yeah, we like to leave locals with a good taste of Americanism wherever we go.
Other events in Santorini included having to stay there an extra night due to a *scheduled* ferry strike (no biggie, we liked Santorini), lounging on the black sand beaches indulging in way too expensive strawberry daiquiris, swimming in said black sand beach water and marveling at the completely smoothed over stone bottom, and watching movies about Greece (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and Mamma Mia) when it rained. We loved Santorini.
Alas our travels took us elsewhere and soon we were in Paros! Paros is far less touristy than other islands, particularly Santorini and Mykonos. However, there are still quite a few hotels, stores and restaurants due to its large port and the fact that ferries very infrequently run directly between Santorini and Mykonos. That’s kind of why we decided to stay there one night. Our “hostel” was run by a German guy who lived upstairs with his girlfriend and toddler, and they had a great sunroof, but it rained the whole 16 hours or so we were there. We did get to enjoy a mostly dry stroll through the cute little village.
The next day our ferry arrived in Mykonos and we grew increasingly frustrated waiting for the car from the hostel that was supposed to pick us up. We waited, we were hungry, we had crappy weather and then we couldn’t even check into the hostel for 30 minutes after we got there so we went to wait on the beach and then had to leave because the hostel’s private beach charged eight euro per beach chair. Ahh how the traveling does eventually wear on one’s cheerfulness. We tempered our mild crankiness after checking in by getting a good meal and heading into downtown Mykonos. There were lots of narrow streets filled with shop after shop and it was a bit of a puzzle keeping track. I think we all made at least a few purchases, but other than that and looking at windmills, we found little else to do. Back to our beach hostel for a rest and some dinner before our Saturday Night in Mykonos! So what we’ve heard about the low season in Greece is that you get the nice views and pretty weather minus a million other tourists blocking your sunset. Well, the bad part is the weather isn’t necessarily nice. It has to rain sometime, after all. The other thing is, as a college student, you expect a certain level of nightlife. The short of it? We were so feebly impressed by the evening’s social offerings that we spent the night lounging in our room and went to bed early. Overall, we enjoyed Mykonos, just had some bad timing.
We were sad to leave Greece, but, like bidding “adios” to Spain, it was easier knowing that we were moving on to a fantastic, new spot! Hello, Istanbul!
Turkey was kind of different than any place I’d ever been. Sure, our hostel was located in a super touristy spot very close to the Blue Mosque and the Arya Sofia, but it still felt very much like a Muslim country. It was soooo hot the whole time we were there and, well, I couldn’t make myself wear pants. I covered up to enter the mosques, but my sundresses and blonde hair were a calling card for an American. And to tell the truth, that got quite annoying after a while.
Still, I’d put up with that any day for all that Istanbul has to offer. Abby had only two days there while Em and I planned to stay longer. We packed as much of Istanbul as we possibly could into those two days. We saw the Blue Mosque, Arya Sofia, Galata Tower, the Hippodrome and of course made our way shopping around the utterly massive Grand Bazaar. One afternoon we decided we’d like to have lunch across the river, so we took a ferry and stepped off into Asia!! It really wasn’t very different, just more modern. Still, it was cool just knowing we were on another continent. While Abby was there, we also allowed ourselves two nights of good eatin’. We approved of one recommendation in Abby’s travel book. The second restaurant we found as we headed out to eat around 10pm on a Monday night. It was a rooftop of a hotel and we were literally the only patrons. We charmed the waiter and got free grape leaves and a ridiculously delicious meal! While we waited for our food, he even allowed us to climb to the empty rooftop above the restaurant balcony and we had the most stunning view of all of Istanbul at night. Definitely one of those unique, never-forget travel moments.
After Abby left, Emily and I slowed our pace just a bit. We did more walking and wandering and made friends with some great people from our hostel. Jamie from Hong Kong was traveling alone so we toured a few new places together. We made it to the palace one afternoon and spent a while strolling the gardens and then ogling the beautiful architecture and jewels displayed inside the palace walls. We took an afternoon breather enjoying the sun at our hostel’s rooftop terrace and beginning a multi-hour card marathon with fellow hostel buddies. At nights we never left the hostel- all our entertainment was built in! The rooftop bar attracted all guests so there was always a great international crowd up for cards, hookah, and even dancing.
One day Emily and I had a truly Turkish experience- something everyone says you should do when you go to Turkey and you kind of agree, but don’t really know why. We spent an afternoon at the Turkish baths and now I know why those who’ve tried it encourage it. It’s luxurious, awkward, private and literally muscle-wrenching, and that’s about all I’m going to share. Like those before me, I’ll say you have to experience it for yourself. But I am oh-so-glad I did it.
After Em left, I had one final day in Turkey without any of my travel companions, but with new hostel buddies. Jamie and I went out to explore some new places. We found ourselves back at the Bazaar to spend some last Lira and then got a Turkish ice cream. The flavors of Turkish ice cream are familiar. The texture- not so much. The ice cream man had a ball flipping the cone upside-down to show us silly foreigners that the ice cream simply would not fall out. Enjoyable. We took our sticky cones and wandered away from the city center towards the water and found ourselves in the fishing district. Fishing boats were parked next to fish (salesmen? butchers? Hmm…) built next to fine fish restaurants. We strolled the boardwalk for an hour or so taking in the salty coast and then before nearly succumbing to the sun and heat, wound our way back to the hostel for some rest. My last night in Turkey was incredibly fun, but surprisingly a little bittersweet. All the people at the hostel had been there five days like me, so it was kind of like saying goodbye to camp friends that I know I’ll never see again. I guess that’s all part of the fun of meeting fellow travelers.
My trip home the next morning was long, but simple. Other than getting halted by security and bomb searched (my iHome was a suspect), the flights were smooth and I was soon watching my dad and sister pull up to O’Hare with hugs and a big, empty trunk.
Home Sweet Home.
And this is how I’ll end my blog. It’s been long and I’m sure boring for some at times, but I’ll at least always have this to remember all the fun, wonderful, spontaneous, thrilling adventures I had while abroad. And more than anything, I think it will serve as motivation to get my butt working so I can buy myself another plane ticket for a distant destination. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Portugal and Portugal
After experiencing some of the fabulosity that is Sevilla, my parents and I headed off to Portugal for a little beach time. We rented a car (good thing Dad can drive manual!) in Sevilla and were on our way! The southern coast of Portugal is really pretty tiny, so there were no really long drives.
We arrived in Tavira after a couple hours and pretty randomly selected a parking spot and lunch restaurant. In Portugal they like to serve toasties- little grilled sandwiches with anything from ham to tuna to tomatoes on it. Then we strolled around Tavira, stumbling upon the fort and climbing it to see the city from up high. Tavira was pretty, but there wasn’t too much to do, so we wandered along the river back to the car to head further along Portugal’s coast. We had no lodging plans, but my mom’s instincts led us to Praia da Rocha (Rock Beach) in Portimao, a stunning coastal town less touristy than Albufeira (according to locals, this is because many Portuguese are too lazy to drive east or west from the main highway from Lisbon to Albufeira). Mom talked to some tourism people and police, who directed us to a great hotel right on the beach. The evening was approaching, so although it wasn’t primetime for sunbathing, the ‘rents and I took a gorgeous stroll along our beach. Seriously, Google Image Praia da Rocha- it’s stunning: a huge, wide white sand beach with Caribbean-hued waters with reddish-brown and yellow rocks guarding the coastline and edging out into the water to form stunning vistas from end to end. We took our walk in late afternoon in beautiful lighting and it was so relaxing- got some good pics.
We had an early dinner of fishy stuff (pretty much a Connolly rule: eat fish when fresh, caught-that-day-right-off-the-beach fish is available) and chicken piri piri- a slightly spicy Portuguese chicken dish. (Yes, thought you all should know what we ordered – nah I just want to pretend I’m a travel guide book for a second and presume to know the local flavors). We returned to our hotel, rode on up to the sixth floor (which the three us fondly came to call “Seis piso” as the elevator lady would tell us in an inexplicably awesome voice multiple times a day), and conked out.
The next day was kind of cool and cloudy so we hopped in the car for a drive west. First stop: Lagos. We ate lunch at the outdoor restaurant on the coast that hooks around so you can see the rest of Lagos and it was amazing! We toured the town and saw the old slave trading post and some churches. Then we drove to Ponte de Piedade, a cliffy, rocky point that sticks out of Lagos with a long stair path leading down to the stunning caves below. There was some fresh cement only hours old and I took the liberty of marking Tom, Dee and Acon’s names forever in Portugal.
Back in the car to drive to Sagres to see the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean. Sagres is the most southwestern point in Europe and is what Europeans once thought was the end of the world. There’s a huge cliff with a fort and then pretty much nothing else except a memorial sign for someone who fell off and died as a warning for viewers not to get too close to the fenceless edge. Heavy.
After enduring the quite chilly and strong winds from the west, we hopped back in the car with a gorgeous sunstreaked sky in the rearview mirror. And what do you know? We saw another rainbow! So it was a pretty good looking drive back to Portimao with sunset on one side and rainbow on the other.
Another great road trip we took was up through the mountains in Monchique. Not a far drive and not the tallest mountains, but the drive was beautiful and the distant views of the ocean were radical. Then we drove back to the western coast to a beach the hotel guide reported was his personal fave. The downside: it was wayyyy way too wavy. The upside: it was gorgeous and we were able to stand on a cliff and watch all the surfer dudes and dudettes ride the waves that would likely have swallowed us up.
We did want to find a beach for ourselves, though, so we drove back along the coast and returned to Lagos! The waves there were perfectly satisfactory for Dad and me to do some serious body surfing. The man is a pro- he had every kid and grown-up on the beach wanting to give it a shot, but they didn’t quite have the Connolly technique.
The rest of the trip mainly consisted of beaching and strolling, with some mouthwatering meals here and there. One night we ate at a super-nice cave restaurant built into the rocky side of the coast. It’s low season so there were hardly any people there and the food was out of this world. Yum.
And that, my friends, pretty much concludes the trip to Portugal! We drove back to Sevilla and I bid farewell to the parents Connolly after a fantastic 10 days. Miss you, parents!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And then….Ready for round two, Portugal?
For the last weekend in April nearly everyone in my program booked a trip to Lagos with a student travel agency. I hadn’t planned on going because, well, I had just been, but since no one was in Sevilla and since Lagos was utterly gorgeous, I decided to go back. So I was back in Sevilla for 26 hours of unpacking, classes, packing, and then hopping on a bus back to Lagos!
I decided not to go with the travel agency group, so I stayed with a group of friends in a hostel, which meant we got an extra night in Lagos! This trip was a bit different than that with my parents. We beached all day, had a couple cocktails, and made rounds at the bars at night. We cooked and hung out with new friends in our hostel and made great use of the hostel’s rooftop terrace. One day we even took a boat tour of the caves I had seen with my parents from land. It was stunning! And our driver kept telling us what rock formations were supposed to look like elephants, faces, wedding cakes, etc. Verrr cool.
I’d elaborate on the lying on the beach we did, but there’s not too much to say. Some people jumped off huge rocks and shredded their legs or backs. I hoped for some waves to show off my newly practiced body surfing, but it was flat flat flat. Overall, a fantastic round two of Portugal for me. If anyone wants a gorgeous vacation spot in Europe, Lagos is definitely a winner.
We arrived in Tavira after a couple hours and pretty randomly selected a parking spot and lunch restaurant. In Portugal they like to serve toasties- little grilled sandwiches with anything from ham to tuna to tomatoes on it. Then we strolled around Tavira, stumbling upon the fort and climbing it to see the city from up high. Tavira was pretty, but there wasn’t too much to do, so we wandered along the river back to the car to head further along Portugal’s coast. We had no lodging plans, but my mom’s instincts led us to Praia da Rocha (Rock Beach) in Portimao, a stunning coastal town less touristy than Albufeira (according to locals, this is because many Portuguese are too lazy to drive east or west from the main highway from Lisbon to Albufeira). Mom talked to some tourism people and police, who directed us to a great hotel right on the beach. The evening was approaching, so although it wasn’t primetime for sunbathing, the ‘rents and I took a gorgeous stroll along our beach. Seriously, Google Image Praia da Rocha- it’s stunning: a huge, wide white sand beach with Caribbean-hued waters with reddish-brown and yellow rocks guarding the coastline and edging out into the water to form stunning vistas from end to end. We took our walk in late afternoon in beautiful lighting and it was so relaxing- got some good pics.
We had an early dinner of fishy stuff (pretty much a Connolly rule: eat fish when fresh, caught-that-day-right-off-the-beach fish is available) and chicken piri piri- a slightly spicy Portuguese chicken dish. (Yes, thought you all should know what we ordered – nah I just want to pretend I’m a travel guide book for a second and presume to know the local flavors). We returned to our hotel, rode on up to the sixth floor (which the three us fondly came to call “Seis piso” as the elevator lady would tell us in an inexplicably awesome voice multiple times a day), and conked out.
The next day was kind of cool and cloudy so we hopped in the car for a drive west. First stop: Lagos. We ate lunch at the outdoor restaurant on the coast that hooks around so you can see the rest of Lagos and it was amazing! We toured the town and saw the old slave trading post and some churches. Then we drove to Ponte de Piedade, a cliffy, rocky point that sticks out of Lagos with a long stair path leading down to the stunning caves below. There was some fresh cement only hours old and I took the liberty of marking Tom, Dee and Acon’s names forever in Portugal.
Back in the car to drive to Sagres to see the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean. Sagres is the most southwestern point in Europe and is what Europeans once thought was the end of the world. There’s a huge cliff with a fort and then pretty much nothing else except a memorial sign for someone who fell off and died as a warning for viewers not to get too close to the fenceless edge. Heavy.
After enduring the quite chilly and strong winds from the west, we hopped back in the car with a gorgeous sunstreaked sky in the rearview mirror. And what do you know? We saw another rainbow! So it was a pretty good looking drive back to Portimao with sunset on one side and rainbow on the other.
Another great road trip we took was up through the mountains in Monchique. Not a far drive and not the tallest mountains, but the drive was beautiful and the distant views of the ocean were radical. Then we drove back to the western coast to a beach the hotel guide reported was his personal fave. The downside: it was wayyyy way too wavy. The upside: it was gorgeous and we were able to stand on a cliff and watch all the surfer dudes and dudettes ride the waves that would likely have swallowed us up.
We did want to find a beach for ourselves, though, so we drove back along the coast and returned to Lagos! The waves there were perfectly satisfactory for Dad and me to do some serious body surfing. The man is a pro- he had every kid and grown-up on the beach wanting to give it a shot, but they didn’t quite have the Connolly technique.
The rest of the trip mainly consisted of beaching and strolling, with some mouthwatering meals here and there. One night we ate at a super-nice cave restaurant built into the rocky side of the coast. It’s low season so there were hardly any people there and the food was out of this world. Yum.
And that, my friends, pretty much concludes the trip to Portugal! We drove back to Sevilla and I bid farewell to the parents Connolly after a fantastic 10 days. Miss you, parents!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And then….Ready for round two, Portugal?
For the last weekend in April nearly everyone in my program booked a trip to Lagos with a student travel agency. I hadn’t planned on going because, well, I had just been, but since no one was in Sevilla and since Lagos was utterly gorgeous, I decided to go back. So I was back in Sevilla for 26 hours of unpacking, classes, packing, and then hopping on a bus back to Lagos!
I decided not to go with the travel agency group, so I stayed with a group of friends in a hostel, which meant we got an extra night in Lagos! This trip was a bit different than that with my parents. We beached all day, had a couple cocktails, and made rounds at the bars at night. We cooked and hung out with new friends in our hostel and made great use of the hostel’s rooftop terrace. One day we even took a boat tour of the caves I had seen with my parents from land. It was stunning! And our driver kept telling us what rock formations were supposed to look like elephants, faces, wedding cakes, etc. Verrr cool.
I’d elaborate on the lying on the beach we did, but there’s not too much to say. Some people jumped off huge rocks and shredded their legs or backs. I hoped for some waves to show off my newly practiced body surfing, but it was flat flat flat. Overall, a fantastic round two of Portugal for me. If anyone wants a gorgeous vacation spot in Europe, Lagos is definitely a winner.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Feliz Cumpleaños, Parents, Feria, and Six Bulls
There was no time to rest post-Morocco. More plans for fun times were in store for me. Can you think of why, if we returned from the weekend on April 18? That’s right- I turned 21 April 20! We arrived home Sunday night, and then fortunately had Monday to recuperate, unpack, and sleep in a little before a big night of Birthday!
The big night started with dinner at a favorite tapas restaurant with a big group of friends before heading to Los Remedios (a neighborhood in Sevilla), where the extensive fairgrounds for FERIA are set up! ~~Feria is an enormous week-long festival every year in Spanish cities (the biggest and best of them in Sevilla) in which the city sets up hundreds of private and a few public tents called casetas, complete with bars, dancing and even an amusement park section! Women wear fabulous and ridiculously pricey flamenco dresses and men dress up in their sharpest suits- it’s one hell of a spectacle~~ Anyway, my friend Kayla and I were both to turn 21 at midnight Monday night/Tuesday morning, at the very moment when the light to start Feria is lit! So we scheduled an early dinner at Los Coloniales with about 14 friends where we wined and dined and then headed off to a bar to pre-game for Feria. (Okay, I’m officially 21 now and I was certainly of legal age to drink my whole time in Sevilla, so I’m not scoldable now for talking about drinking on my birthday. Well, we went to a bar famous for its quantity of shots. And since Kayla and I were the birthday girls, people bought us lots of them! We were in pretty good shape as we headed to Feria for the midnight lighting. It was such a fantastic and even cultural way to turn 21 in Spain! There was a little countdown and then a big celebration like New Year’s at the moment we turned 21! SO COOL!! Then we went into Feria and to the public casetas for an incredible 21st birthday night! SUCCESS.
April 20-
My parents came! Sure, I thought about the day-of feelings I would have after the nighttime birthday revelry, but my parents came to Sevilla to see me! So I sucked it up and woke up at 11 to go meet them and show them my city! It had been such a long time so I was thrilled to see them at last! They were a tad jet-lagged and starved, so we started slow with a cute outdoor café in the Santa Cruz district. Mom enjoyed a tinto de verano (very popular drink in Andalucia comprised of red wine and lemon soda), but I could only handle water and plain toast… We got to catch up and enjoy each other’s company, and then we walked through the city to my favorite place in Sevilla: the Alcazares. Los Reales Alcazares means the Royal Fortress, which is now a palace for the royal family of Spain when they come to Sevilla, as well as a museum. The buildings are fantastically decorated with lots of ornate Moorish influences and we got an audio-guided tour. My favorite part, however, is outside. The gardens of the Alcazares go on forever! There are mazes and fountains and paths and flowers and orange trees and even peacocks meandering around! It’s gorgeous! We refreshed ourselves after the heat and walking with some gelato before splitting to get cleaned up for the night.
I met my parents and three of my friends at La Isla for my big birthday dinner (round 2)! The place was lovely and my parents had fun meeting Abby, Maya and Rozina and getting to know the people I’ve been hanging with these past months! I had a birthday cheesecake and of course the table started singing to me. Then the whole room joined in to sing Feliz Cumpleanos, and then the Moroccan waiter even chimed in with the Arabic version! So I had Happy Birthday sung to me in three different languages and then had to stand up and curtsy to the room. I think because I’m 21 I will no longer be embarrassed by those kinds of shenanigans, and now I choose to enjoy them! So it was a blast! After dinner, my poor exhausted parents went back to get a good night’s rest, but since it was birthday, I was expected to go out. I was drained from the night before, but I rallied! We went back to Feria and met up with a group to celebrate once again! We made it over to the amusement park and went on a crazy-fast Ferris wheel and some other silly rides. And that, folks, is how I spent my 21st birthday. One for the record books.
The rest of the week my parents and I toured Sevilla and got to do some really cool things. Wednesday my parents came to my neighborhood Triana. I showed them some of my local haunts and then my señora Julia invited us for lunch. My roommate’s family was in Sevilla too, so we all sat down for a potentially conversation-stunted meal. Alas it went great! Christa and I translated really well (impressed the parents and let them know we were doing some work after all in Spain) and Julia was the center of it all! She didn’t feel awkward and even let me ask her about 792364 questions from my parents. We sat there for nearly three hours! I think it was a pretty special experience for our parents because they get to experience what a real Spanish señora, home and meal are like- nothing touristy or artificial, and they got to see how we have really been living these past months!
Then after lunch we went to Feria to experience it in the daytime. I’m putting up an entire photo blog post next because the images I have can explain what everything’s like so much better than my words, particularly for Feria. The dresses, the tents (called casetas), the horses, the music- it’s an amazing sight. According to Julia, on any given day there might be as many as one million people there! And all the women and girls dress up in elaborate flamenco dresses with flowers and combs in their hair, color-coordinated jewelry, woven shawls, and bright flamenco shoes or espadrilles. I’m not kidding- they really go all out. It’s a stunning spectacle. The men have it easier, but they do look rather dapper in their sharp suits. Some special Sevillanos ride in horse-driven carriages decorated with bells and pom poms. We weren’t of the partying crew that day, but it was still thrilling to wander and people watch. We even saw a rainbow over Feria (rainbows are following me)! That night my friend Noah who was visiting Sevilla from Montpelier joined my parents and me for a delicious Spanish dinner at a cute restaurant on the river.
The next day we toured more of Sevilla. I showed them my university building, my usual routes to and from class, my gym, and, towering over all of the above, Sevilla’s Cathedral. There we ran into Noah, so he joined us for a few other adventures that day. The Cathedral is gorgeous, Moorish-influenced, and utterly massive- definitely not like walking into any other old church. Chapels upon chapels, a massively massive organ, rooms full of precious jewel and crowns, and the famous high point of Sevilla, the tall Giralda Tower. Dad, Noah and I climbed the tower and got to see all of my beautiful Sevilla from a fantastic spot. Then I took the three of them on a little tour of my Sevilla hot spots and we wound up at a tasty outdoor pizza place!
After lunch, the ‘rents and I had tickets to the bullfight! Some friends of mine had already been to one and told me they found it an incredibly sad and depressing experience. Each show consists of three matadors (with many skilled sidekicks) killing two bulls each- so the audience watches as six bulls are slowly butchered. The concept is a sad one, yes, but millions of Spaniards adore this “art,” and have for thousands of years, so I had to experience it for myself to judge.
We sat in an upper shaded area, which was a nice respite from the early searing sun. After muttering countless questions among ourselves (“Why is the bull already bleeding when it comes out?” “What’s the music for?” “Which one is the matador?”), I asked the couple sitting next to me to explain a thing or three (“They tag the bull to identify its owner so it bleeds a little,” “The band plays three times in each corrida to separate the jobs of the types of toreros,” “The matador comes out last with the red cape”), and they were our references for the remainder of the corrida.
First, all three matadors come out in their fine “trajes de luz” (literally “light suits” - they are the traditional, highly decorated, tight suits the matadors wear). Only the matadors have the right to wear white- some like the color for its stark contrast to the bull’s blood that will rub off on the matador if he is daring enough to get so close. The matadors prance around to applause and then return to safety outside the ring to let the first bull and a team of banderilleros out.
Banderilleros tease and tire the bull out by making him run from one pink bandera to another. Then three banderilleros stick the bull between the shoulder blades with two short blades with paper-covered poles that show the blood dripping out. Next, the picador comes out on a horse covered in heavy metal armor. For some reason the horse drives the bull crazy and he repeatedly spears the bull in its underbelly. Only decades ago the horse wasn’t covered at all and most died. The picador is the torero sitting on the horse with a super-long spear that he digs into the bull’s back. With this and the banderilleros’ hits, the bull gets weaker and weaker and finally the matador, the most experienced torero, enters the bullring.
In my opinion, the matador does much less than the other guys, but I suppose it takes plenty of experience to get to his level. The matador arrives with his red cape and some serious swagger. (Truth- they are the biggest celebrities in Spain- on par with Cristiano Ronaldo and Javier Bardem- these guys get all the ladies.) This is the artistic part: the matador heralds his red cape and teases the bull, coaxing him into a close blow, and then swirling out of the way of the bull’s deadly horns just at the last second. The closer the matador gets, the more swirling he does, and the more he has his back toward the bull, the more the crowd loves him. Some matadors were more impressive than others, and the crowd would shout and stand and yell for the band to play for the better moves they saw. Then, after much dancing around the bleeding, exhausted and humiliated bull, the matador pulls his sword out from behind the red cape and spears the beast through the heart. It’s obvious the moment it dies, crumbling to the ground, and then falling sideways and rigid. For its final humiliation, a team of donkeys arrives and drags the bull around the ring, drawing a victorious trail of blood out of the arena.
So this is the process of the bullfight. I try to tell it as artistically as I saw it. It’s such a practiced and appreciated art that it was easy to get drawn into the performance of it all. Still, I was one of few who did not clap. While I’m told the bulls are butchered and every part of the corpse is used after its death, and although I eat a cheeseburger without hesitation, I couldn’t help feeling that the slow, public murder of these animals wasn’t something to applaud. Still, I’m glad I went to see the historical and cultural event.
Where to begin again after the bullfight? Well let’s just start anew with Portugal for the next post. This one’s pretty darn long already!
The big night started with dinner at a favorite tapas restaurant with a big group of friends before heading to Los Remedios (a neighborhood in Sevilla), where the extensive fairgrounds for FERIA are set up! ~~Feria is an enormous week-long festival every year in Spanish cities (the biggest and best of them in Sevilla) in which the city sets up hundreds of private and a few public tents called casetas, complete with bars, dancing and even an amusement park section! Women wear fabulous and ridiculously pricey flamenco dresses and men dress up in their sharpest suits- it’s one hell of a spectacle~~ Anyway, my friend Kayla and I were both to turn 21 at midnight Monday night/Tuesday morning, at the very moment when the light to start Feria is lit! So we scheduled an early dinner at Los Coloniales with about 14 friends where we wined and dined and then headed off to a bar to pre-game for Feria. (Okay, I’m officially 21 now and I was certainly of legal age to drink my whole time in Sevilla, so I’m not scoldable now for talking about drinking on my birthday. Well, we went to a bar famous for its quantity of shots. And since Kayla and I were the birthday girls, people bought us lots of them! We were in pretty good shape as we headed to Feria for the midnight lighting. It was such a fantastic and even cultural way to turn 21 in Spain! There was a little countdown and then a big celebration like New Year’s at the moment we turned 21! SO COOL!! Then we went into Feria and to the public casetas for an incredible 21st birthday night! SUCCESS.
April 20-
My parents came! Sure, I thought about the day-of feelings I would have after the nighttime birthday revelry, but my parents came to Sevilla to see me! So I sucked it up and woke up at 11 to go meet them and show them my city! It had been such a long time so I was thrilled to see them at last! They were a tad jet-lagged and starved, so we started slow with a cute outdoor café in the Santa Cruz district. Mom enjoyed a tinto de verano (very popular drink in Andalucia comprised of red wine and lemon soda), but I could only handle water and plain toast… We got to catch up and enjoy each other’s company, and then we walked through the city to my favorite place in Sevilla: the Alcazares. Los Reales Alcazares means the Royal Fortress, which is now a palace for the royal family of Spain when they come to Sevilla, as well as a museum. The buildings are fantastically decorated with lots of ornate Moorish influences and we got an audio-guided tour. My favorite part, however, is outside. The gardens of the Alcazares go on forever! There are mazes and fountains and paths and flowers and orange trees and even peacocks meandering around! It’s gorgeous! We refreshed ourselves after the heat and walking with some gelato before splitting to get cleaned up for the night.
I met my parents and three of my friends at La Isla for my big birthday dinner (round 2)! The place was lovely and my parents had fun meeting Abby, Maya and Rozina and getting to know the people I’ve been hanging with these past months! I had a birthday cheesecake and of course the table started singing to me. Then the whole room joined in to sing Feliz Cumpleanos, and then the Moroccan waiter even chimed in with the Arabic version! So I had Happy Birthday sung to me in three different languages and then had to stand up and curtsy to the room. I think because I’m 21 I will no longer be embarrassed by those kinds of shenanigans, and now I choose to enjoy them! So it was a blast! After dinner, my poor exhausted parents went back to get a good night’s rest, but since it was birthday, I was expected to go out. I was drained from the night before, but I rallied! We went back to Feria and met up with a group to celebrate once again! We made it over to the amusement park and went on a crazy-fast Ferris wheel and some other silly rides. And that, folks, is how I spent my 21st birthday. One for the record books.
The rest of the week my parents and I toured Sevilla and got to do some really cool things. Wednesday my parents came to my neighborhood Triana. I showed them some of my local haunts and then my señora Julia invited us for lunch. My roommate’s family was in Sevilla too, so we all sat down for a potentially conversation-stunted meal. Alas it went great! Christa and I translated really well (impressed the parents and let them know we were doing some work after all in Spain) and Julia was the center of it all! She didn’t feel awkward and even let me ask her about 792364 questions from my parents. We sat there for nearly three hours! I think it was a pretty special experience for our parents because they get to experience what a real Spanish señora, home and meal are like- nothing touristy or artificial, and they got to see how we have really been living these past months!
Then after lunch we went to Feria to experience it in the daytime. I’m putting up an entire photo blog post next because the images I have can explain what everything’s like so much better than my words, particularly for Feria. The dresses, the tents (called casetas), the horses, the music- it’s an amazing sight. According to Julia, on any given day there might be as many as one million people there! And all the women and girls dress up in elaborate flamenco dresses with flowers and combs in their hair, color-coordinated jewelry, woven shawls, and bright flamenco shoes or espadrilles. I’m not kidding- they really go all out. It’s a stunning spectacle. The men have it easier, but they do look rather dapper in their sharp suits. Some special Sevillanos ride in horse-driven carriages decorated with bells and pom poms. We weren’t of the partying crew that day, but it was still thrilling to wander and people watch. We even saw a rainbow over Feria (rainbows are following me)! That night my friend Noah who was visiting Sevilla from Montpelier joined my parents and me for a delicious Spanish dinner at a cute restaurant on the river.
The next day we toured more of Sevilla. I showed them my university building, my usual routes to and from class, my gym, and, towering over all of the above, Sevilla’s Cathedral. There we ran into Noah, so he joined us for a few other adventures that day. The Cathedral is gorgeous, Moorish-influenced, and utterly massive- definitely not like walking into any other old church. Chapels upon chapels, a massively massive organ, rooms full of precious jewel and crowns, and the famous high point of Sevilla, the tall Giralda Tower. Dad, Noah and I climbed the tower and got to see all of my beautiful Sevilla from a fantastic spot. Then I took the three of them on a little tour of my Sevilla hot spots and we wound up at a tasty outdoor pizza place!
After lunch, the ‘rents and I had tickets to the bullfight! Some friends of mine had already been to one and told me they found it an incredibly sad and depressing experience. Each show consists of three matadors (with many skilled sidekicks) killing two bulls each- so the audience watches as six bulls are slowly butchered. The concept is a sad one, yes, but millions of Spaniards adore this “art,” and have for thousands of years, so I had to experience it for myself to judge.
We sat in an upper shaded area, which was a nice respite from the early searing sun. After muttering countless questions among ourselves (“Why is the bull already bleeding when it comes out?” “What’s the music for?” “Which one is the matador?”), I asked the couple sitting next to me to explain a thing or three (“They tag the bull to identify its owner so it bleeds a little,” “The band plays three times in each corrida to separate the jobs of the types of toreros,” “The matador comes out last with the red cape”), and they were our references for the remainder of the corrida.
First, all three matadors come out in their fine “trajes de luz” (literally “light suits” - they are the traditional, highly decorated, tight suits the matadors wear). Only the matadors have the right to wear white- some like the color for its stark contrast to the bull’s blood that will rub off on the matador if he is daring enough to get so close. The matadors prance around to applause and then return to safety outside the ring to let the first bull and a team of banderilleros out.
Banderilleros tease and tire the bull out by making him run from one pink bandera to another. Then three banderilleros stick the bull between the shoulder blades with two short blades with paper-covered poles that show the blood dripping out. Next, the picador comes out on a horse covered in heavy metal armor. For some reason the horse drives the bull crazy and he repeatedly spears the bull in its underbelly. Only decades ago the horse wasn’t covered at all and most died. The picador is the torero sitting on the horse with a super-long spear that he digs into the bull’s back. With this and the banderilleros’ hits, the bull gets weaker and weaker and finally the matador, the most experienced torero, enters the bullring.
In my opinion, the matador does much less than the other guys, but I suppose it takes plenty of experience to get to his level. The matador arrives with his red cape and some serious swagger. (Truth- they are the biggest celebrities in Spain- on par with Cristiano Ronaldo and Javier Bardem- these guys get all the ladies.) This is the artistic part: the matador heralds his red cape and teases the bull, coaxing him into a close blow, and then swirling out of the way of the bull’s deadly horns just at the last second. The closer the matador gets, the more swirling he does, and the more he has his back toward the bull, the more the crowd loves him. Some matadors were more impressive than others, and the crowd would shout and stand and yell for the band to play for the better moves they saw. Then, after much dancing around the bleeding, exhausted and humiliated bull, the matador pulls his sword out from behind the red cape and spears the beast through the heart. It’s obvious the moment it dies, crumbling to the ground, and then falling sideways and rigid. For its final humiliation, a team of donkeys arrives and drags the bull around the ring, drawing a victorious trail of blood out of the arena.
So this is the process of the bullfight. I try to tell it as artistically as I saw it. It’s such a practiced and appreciated art that it was easy to get drawn into the performance of it all. Still, I was one of few who did not clap. While I’m told the bulls are butchered and every part of the corpse is used after its death, and although I eat a cheeseburger without hesitation, I couldn’t help feeling that the slow, public murder of these animals wasn’t something to applaud. Still, I’m glad I went to see the historical and cultural event.
Where to begin again after the bullfight? Well let’s just start anew with Portugal for the next post. This one’s pretty darn long already!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Painting the town blue in Morocco!
April flew by so fast! After my adventures in Italy, I had a week of class, a fun weekend at the beach, another week of class, and then a whirlwind of activity!
The weekend of April 16 I went to Morocco with my interest group. This was a trip organized by my program so we a packed itinerary and a big group.
April 16-
We left early in the morning and bussed to the coast to board a ferry to Morocco. It was an indoor ferry and moved a lot so there was a bit of seasickness among the group. My friend and I wanted to walk about, and had to zig-zag everywhere! Not the kind of ferry I’m used to, but it was fun! Then we arrived on the African continent!! We were technically still in Spain because we had to go through customs over there, so it underwhelming, but we eventually passed into Morocco! We drove through Morocco to our hotel in Tangier- it was less scenic than planned because heavy fog covered the views of the mountains. We dropped our stuff at the rather seedy hotel and bussed off to our lunch at this great restaurant in Tangier. We had cous cous and other traditional Moroccan food. They love their tea in Morocco, so that was plentiful. I’m not a big tea person, but my friends were happy to drink mine.
We were all exhausted after rising early, traveling and a big meal. We had no idea what a long day we had ahead of us! Our guide’s name was Abdul, though he thought it was funny to ask us to call him Michael Douglas. I did not. He was not my favorite guide, but he brought us to some cool places.
First we went to an art school, where students from six to 16 created all sorts of amazing things: ceramics, fabrics, weaving, whittling, metalwork- it was astounding! If they had had a gift shop, I would definitely have bought some of their amazing art!
Then we walked through the market streets where we saw EVERYTHING. First we saw pens of dozens of live chickens. Then next door were the butcher shops with plucked dead chickens hanging from the ceiling. There were piles of dead fish, tables of fresh produce, and baskets upon baskets of colorful and deliciously fragrant spices. The smells were super varied at every step as the stalls showcased different edible products.
Speaking of smells, we wound our way through the markets, stopping at the tenery. I didn’t know quite what to expect, but got a little worried when Abdul handed each of us a handful of fresh spearmint, “for your nose,” he said. We stepped into the tenery clutching our mint leaves and soon stuffed them up our noses. There were giant pools of animal hides all around us, and they reeeeeeked. In hindsight, it was cool to see the process of making leather, but at that moment, we wanted OUT. We passed a few more disgusting sights that I’ll refrain from mentioning, and finally left the tenery.
The rest of the day consisted of touring the town, stopping every 100 feet for an explanation of some doorway or mosque or Jewish quarter or type of clothing. Everything we learned was really fascinating, but everyone was exhausted and had a hard time retaining everything. We had some evening tea, and a Muslim man came to tell us about Islam and allow us to ask questions. It was really interesting, actually, but he only let about four people ask questions before quickly saying, “No more, ok, bye!” and booking it. At least we got a little info. From there we returned to our hotel for dinner and goodnight.
April 17-
Up early and out to visit different towns in Morocco. We traveled to the coastal town of Assilah first. It was stunning. Right on the Atlantic side with a gorgeous village and little fishing boats. As we walked up toward the lookout point, a man showed up with a monkey! He started putting it on peoples’ shoulders and then the monkey got a little more playful and hopped up to their heads! I had a monkey on my head! It was so cool and the monkey so adorable that I didn’t mind giving the man a Euro. Come to think about it, he must make a lot of money with that monkey- there were a lot of us! After wandering along the edge of a fort and seeing the beautiful ocean view, we had free time to wander (i.e. shop). Abby and I made our way toward the leather goods stalls. I snagged a few gifts for some lucky people back home. I also found a great leather purse that has already broken. Hopefully the two adorable pairs of colorful leather flats I bought will meet a kinder fate. Then we made our way back to the bus to go grab lunch at a restaurant that looked out over the intersection of the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean!
After lunch we bussed a small parking lot filled with camels. Yeah, riding camels is so touristy now that all you have to do is pull up on the side of the road and a camel will walk you around in a circle or two. I jest, but it was such a fun experience. I watched a few people take their turns and wondered why everyone leaned back and shrieked at nearly every movement the camel made. Then Abby and I hopped on for our turn. I was in the front and now I understand perfectly the extreme leaning. I do believe camels are very strong and capable animals, but it felt like he was about to do a somersault I was leaning forward so much! So I squished poor Abby and leaned back as far as I could as we stood up. Then we took our turn around the lot. That camel switched it hips so wide I almost wanted to try the posting I learned at horseback riding camp so many years ago! We had so much fun and were hysterically laughing the entire time. Then came the terrifying leaning experience when we had to go down again. As much fun as I had, I did feel a little bad for the camels- image having to squat and stand over and over again carrying two humans on your back. Poor things. They’d probably rather be in the desert.
After the camels, we headed to Tetuan and had a tea planned with some Moroccan students. We were both supposed to practice our Spanish and learn about each other’s lifestyles, but there were only four Moroccans and about 25 of us, so really we just got drinks and chatted amongst ourselves. And then we were released for more shopping! A less successful shopping trip than the previous day’s, but then again, that’s probably good for me. I did get to wander through some more markets and snapped a picture of a kitten staring at the chicken butchering counter- it’s like he was posing for me. So after not shopping and being hassled beyond decency by vendors, we were back on the bus and to the hotel.
April 18-
This might have been the coolest day of the weekend, but it ended up pouring like crazy. (Yes, it does rain in Africa! In Morocco, in fact, it rained a TON!) We drove to a town called Chefchaouen in the mountains. The drive alone was utterly fantastic- stunning vistas of well-watered mountains amidst the graceful fog. Then we came to the blue town. Apparently in Chefchaouen, the Jewish neighborhoods used to be painted blue to identify themselves. Now, it’s all blue! In an act of social and cultural inclusion some years ago, the people of Chefchaouen decided to paint the entire city (or up to as far as their brushed could reach, usually about 10 feet high) blue! And they scheduled our arrival for Europe’s Earth Day, which in Chefchaouen means that everyone comes out with their paint buckets to repaint their walls. It was the cutest/coolest thing! We had to be careful taking pictures, though, as our guide told us people didn’t like having their pictures taken because they were afraid of ending up on postcards as cultural spectacles. I’m not selling any postcards, so I took a few subtle pictures and some obvious ones of the people who didn’t mind as much.
After the blue town tour, we had more free time to shop. I got a few gifts before running out of dirham. 11 dirham = 1 Euro. I tell you this because I got very pissed when I tried to buy some adorable colored leather bracelets for 1 Euro each (they were supposed to be 10 dirham) and the guy wouldn’t let me buy them because he decided 8 dirham = 1 Euro. Anyhoo, I got my bracelets because the wonderful Abby had dirham and accepted my Euros. I found most of the salespeople in Morocco to be not super friendly- just my experience. Anyway, halfway through our shopping ventures, the rain came. Sheets and sheets of rain ran down the dirt streets and it was just a mess. We arrived at the lunch restaurant soaked and rather freezing (not how we pictured our Africa weekend). The delicious lunch made up for it, though. Then, sadly, we slowly made our way back toward Ceuta to the ferry and bus on the other side. We ended our trip with a fun ride home, annoying the bus driver with everything from Mulan to Moulin Rouge. And a rainbow followed us! So all in all, yes, Morocco was the shit.
The weekend of April 16 I went to Morocco with my interest group. This was a trip organized by my program so we a packed itinerary and a big group.
April 16-
We left early in the morning and bussed to the coast to board a ferry to Morocco. It was an indoor ferry and moved a lot so there was a bit of seasickness among the group. My friend and I wanted to walk about, and had to zig-zag everywhere! Not the kind of ferry I’m used to, but it was fun! Then we arrived on the African continent!! We were technically still in Spain because we had to go through customs over there, so it underwhelming, but we eventually passed into Morocco! We drove through Morocco to our hotel in Tangier- it was less scenic than planned because heavy fog covered the views of the mountains. We dropped our stuff at the rather seedy hotel and bussed off to our lunch at this great restaurant in Tangier. We had cous cous and other traditional Moroccan food. They love their tea in Morocco, so that was plentiful. I’m not a big tea person, but my friends were happy to drink mine.
We were all exhausted after rising early, traveling and a big meal. We had no idea what a long day we had ahead of us! Our guide’s name was Abdul, though he thought it was funny to ask us to call him Michael Douglas. I did not. He was not my favorite guide, but he brought us to some cool places.
First we went to an art school, where students from six to 16 created all sorts of amazing things: ceramics, fabrics, weaving, whittling, metalwork- it was astounding! If they had had a gift shop, I would definitely have bought some of their amazing art!
Then we walked through the market streets where we saw EVERYTHING. First we saw pens of dozens of live chickens. Then next door were the butcher shops with plucked dead chickens hanging from the ceiling. There were piles of dead fish, tables of fresh produce, and baskets upon baskets of colorful and deliciously fragrant spices. The smells were super varied at every step as the stalls showcased different edible products.
Speaking of smells, we wound our way through the markets, stopping at the tenery. I didn’t know quite what to expect, but got a little worried when Abdul handed each of us a handful of fresh spearmint, “for your nose,” he said. We stepped into the tenery clutching our mint leaves and soon stuffed them up our noses. There were giant pools of animal hides all around us, and they reeeeeeked. In hindsight, it was cool to see the process of making leather, but at that moment, we wanted OUT. We passed a few more disgusting sights that I’ll refrain from mentioning, and finally left the tenery.
The rest of the day consisted of touring the town, stopping every 100 feet for an explanation of some doorway or mosque or Jewish quarter or type of clothing. Everything we learned was really fascinating, but everyone was exhausted and had a hard time retaining everything. We had some evening tea, and a Muslim man came to tell us about Islam and allow us to ask questions. It was really interesting, actually, but he only let about four people ask questions before quickly saying, “No more, ok, bye!” and booking it. At least we got a little info. From there we returned to our hotel for dinner and goodnight.
April 17-
Up early and out to visit different towns in Morocco. We traveled to the coastal town of Assilah first. It was stunning. Right on the Atlantic side with a gorgeous village and little fishing boats. As we walked up toward the lookout point, a man showed up with a monkey! He started putting it on peoples’ shoulders and then the monkey got a little more playful and hopped up to their heads! I had a monkey on my head! It was so cool and the monkey so adorable that I didn’t mind giving the man a Euro. Come to think about it, he must make a lot of money with that monkey- there were a lot of us! After wandering along the edge of a fort and seeing the beautiful ocean view, we had free time to wander (i.e. shop). Abby and I made our way toward the leather goods stalls. I snagged a few gifts for some lucky people back home. I also found a great leather purse that has already broken. Hopefully the two adorable pairs of colorful leather flats I bought will meet a kinder fate. Then we made our way back to the bus to go grab lunch at a restaurant that looked out over the intersection of the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean!
After lunch we bussed a small parking lot filled with camels. Yeah, riding camels is so touristy now that all you have to do is pull up on the side of the road and a camel will walk you around in a circle or two. I jest, but it was such a fun experience. I watched a few people take their turns and wondered why everyone leaned back and shrieked at nearly every movement the camel made. Then Abby and I hopped on for our turn. I was in the front and now I understand perfectly the extreme leaning. I do believe camels are very strong and capable animals, but it felt like he was about to do a somersault I was leaning forward so much! So I squished poor Abby and leaned back as far as I could as we stood up. Then we took our turn around the lot. That camel switched it hips so wide I almost wanted to try the posting I learned at horseback riding camp so many years ago! We had so much fun and were hysterically laughing the entire time. Then came the terrifying leaning experience when we had to go down again. As much fun as I had, I did feel a little bad for the camels- image having to squat and stand over and over again carrying two humans on your back. Poor things. They’d probably rather be in the desert.
After the camels, we headed to Tetuan and had a tea planned with some Moroccan students. We were both supposed to practice our Spanish and learn about each other’s lifestyles, but there were only four Moroccans and about 25 of us, so really we just got drinks and chatted amongst ourselves. And then we were released for more shopping! A less successful shopping trip than the previous day’s, but then again, that’s probably good for me. I did get to wander through some more markets and snapped a picture of a kitten staring at the chicken butchering counter- it’s like he was posing for me. So after not shopping and being hassled beyond decency by vendors, we were back on the bus and to the hotel.
April 18-
This might have been the coolest day of the weekend, but it ended up pouring like crazy. (Yes, it does rain in Africa! In Morocco, in fact, it rained a TON!) We drove to a town called Chefchaouen in the mountains. The drive alone was utterly fantastic- stunning vistas of well-watered mountains amidst the graceful fog. Then we came to the blue town. Apparently in Chefchaouen, the Jewish neighborhoods used to be painted blue to identify themselves. Now, it’s all blue! In an act of social and cultural inclusion some years ago, the people of Chefchaouen decided to paint the entire city (or up to as far as their brushed could reach, usually about 10 feet high) blue! And they scheduled our arrival for Europe’s Earth Day, which in Chefchaouen means that everyone comes out with their paint buckets to repaint their walls. It was the cutest/coolest thing! We had to be careful taking pictures, though, as our guide told us people didn’t like having their pictures taken because they were afraid of ending up on postcards as cultural spectacles. I’m not selling any postcards, so I took a few subtle pictures and some obvious ones of the people who didn’t mind as much.
After the blue town tour, we had more free time to shop. I got a few gifts before running out of dirham. 11 dirham = 1 Euro. I tell you this because I got very pissed when I tried to buy some adorable colored leather bracelets for 1 Euro each (they were supposed to be 10 dirham) and the guy wouldn’t let me buy them because he decided 8 dirham = 1 Euro. Anyhoo, I got my bracelets because the wonderful Abby had dirham and accepted my Euros. I found most of the salespeople in Morocco to be not super friendly- just my experience. Anyway, halfway through our shopping ventures, the rain came. Sheets and sheets of rain ran down the dirt streets and it was just a mess. We arrived at the lunch restaurant soaked and rather freezing (not how we pictured our Africa weekend). The delicious lunch made up for it, though. Then, sadly, we slowly made our way back toward Ceuta to the ferry and bus on the other side. We ended our trip with a fun ride home, annoying the bus driver with everything from Mulan to Moulin Rouge. And a rainbow followed us! So all in all, yes, Morocco was the shit.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Spring Break in Italy!
And now we begin the Italy portion of this very large post, so rewind back over a month…
March 24- Up early. Thought I’d make the bus to the airport by walking, underestimated the weight of my new backpacking backpack, grabbed a cab, met up with friends and just made the bus. Airport: long lines, delayed flight, eventually made it to Rome. Took bus to Termini train station that’s close to our hostels. Got scolded for eating my bocadillo (sandwich) on the bus, but I had had to check it because it wouldn’t fit in my carry-on! Cute bus ticket checker: “Excuse me, do you speak English?” Yes, I smile, flutter those eyelashes. “Do you read English?” Uh, crap. Dude points to the sign that says loudly and obviously, “Please don’t eat on the bus.” Yeah, like anyone pays attention to those rules. So that was just an example of the kinds of scoldings I receive in Europe. Everywhere we go: Don’t stand on that! You can’t take of picture of that! Don’t touch! On and on- such luck I have.
Back to Rome. I’m with five other girls. They planned the trip before I knew what I wanted to do for Spring Break, so they had a five-person room at a B&B and I booked a room in a hostel a few blocks away. We split to check in. I walked in my 8-person room, made friends with some Swedish guys in there, and walked out to meet the girls again. We strolled around the city not aiming for a specific site so late in the day, met some South Africans on a bridge, and wandered into Trastevre for our first Italian meal. Mom, thank you. Such a great recommendation. We went big that night with the full five-course meal of bruscetta, salad, pasta, antipasta, and dessert. And wine. Mmmmm. Good. Idea. Then we hit the hay to prepare for Big Day of Sightseeing in Italy #1.
March 25- I didn’t meet the girls that morning. They headed off to see the Vatican, but I did that on a Europe trip two and a half years ago and wanted to explore a bit on my own. I highly recommend lone wandering every once in a while. I explored some churches, a palace, and found myself at the Trevi Fountain and then the Spanish Steps. I saw a big green space on my map and wanted to see what it was, so I ventured beyond the Spanish Steps up to what I now know as the Villa Borghese Gardens. I wandered up a path, higher and higher and found myself at a gorgeous view of all of Rome. The park stretched really far and had tons of great things to see. Lots of green in a massive city. I hung out at the park for a while, just wandering and looking at statues of heads of people like Da Vinci, Machiavelli and Botticelli. Later I met the girls at Castel Sant’Angelo and we found a place near Piazza Navona to have lunch. My first pizza in Italy- need I even say it was delicious? And I saw a friend from high school walking with his parents as we were eating! Small world.
Speaking of home friends, I got to see my lovely friend Laura, who’s studying in the Loyola of Rome program (that my mom and sister Kate have also done!). We met and she gave me a little tour of the city, stopping at the Pantheon and at a heavenly place that sells the best gelato I have EVER had. Strawberry, caramel and white chocolate. Try it. It’s unreal. We walked and talked and later met up with my friends for some more pizza and Laura’s bar recommendations. She knows her city.
March 26-
This was the big Colosseum sightseeing day. We wandered through the narrow and winding streets of Rome and eventually emerged into the sun exposing the massive and always impressive Colosseum. I hit this one up a few years ago, but I definitely wanted to see it again. We found a decent tour and passed the lines to get into the building. I learned a lot of things that I suppose I had forgotten from my previous tour. Or maybe we had a better guide. He was interesting- kept trying to get us to picture ourselves as “fine, wealthy Roman citizens,” aka the kind who would get the good seats in the Colosseum and stick up their noses as they walked past everyone in line. Kind of creepy. However, he got us to picture what the Colosseum would have looked like back then. You forget that at one time it was an ornate theater experience. Fine white marble, rich oil paintings and tapestries covering every wall and ceiling- and all that survives is some of the marble. I also didn’t know the variety of animals they would bring in to fight in the Colosseum- lions, elephants, bears! And then they would chop up the carcasses and serve a feast to the entire audience! Doesn’t sound too appetizing to me, but I guess I’ve never had fresh lion, so what do I know?
We moved on from the tour to a more contemporary Italian meal at a cute outdoor restaurant. I ordered what I thought was baked macaroni- turned out to be cannelloni. Still, not a bad surprise. Any Italian meal is pretty much fantastic in Rome. After lunch we moved on to the next part of the tour- the Roman forum. It was late afternoon so everything was beautifully sunlit, and we walked through the ancient ruins imagining what life would have been like there thousands of years ago. Favorite tour guide story: (in an Australian accent reminiscent of VH1 The Fabulous Life guy) the telling of Romulus and Remus being raised by wolves and the explanation of the famous image of Rome: the two brothers “suckling the she-wolf.” He just kept saying it and we laughed every time!
That wrapped up a long day of sightseeing, but we met up later to sit on the girls’ hotel roof with pizza and wine and invited our friends who arrived from Florence that day. We stayed out enjoying ourselves until the grumpy hotel manager came up and shooed us away.
March 27-
Morning train to Florence went pretty well (by pretty well I mean sprinting to catch our train and hopping on seconds before it left the station). We arrived in what would come to be my favorite city in Italy. LOVED FLORENCE. We walked through the streets and immediately caught sight of the massive Duomo Church. Florence is so small compared to everywhere I’ve been! I guess it’s like Sevilla in that way, but easier to navigate. We easily found our B&B, an adorable three bedroom place run by the nicest couple in the world and their friendly puppy Fiona. We dropped our stuff in our room and were then greeted with glasses of wine and onion rings! We decided to wander around the city for a while, and we met up with my friend Amanda from UW in her apartment just blocks from our B&B. The students definitely have a different experience in Florence. Amanda lived in an adorable and shockingly spacous apartment with four girls from her program. She took us out for lunch at Il Gato y Il Golpe (I remember because it was THAT good) and on a little tour of her city and taught me many things about fountains, churches and statues that I regret to say I’ve already forgotten. We then returned to our B&B for a home-cooked dinner and wine. Homemade Italian food by Italians=AMAZING. So amazing, in fact, that we lapsed into food comas and one-by-one dropped off to sleep, forgoing our Saturday night in favor of a good night’s rest.
March 28-
Big Day of Sightseeing: A short line for the museum to see Michaelangelo’s David- and boy was it impressive and enormous! Then waited in line for Uffizi art museum for two hours- was way worth it for such an incredible museum. Then we grabbed some pizza on the go and made our way across the Ponte Vecchio, through the jewelry shops and gelato coolers, and along the river. We hiked up and up and up to the most amazing view in Florence called the Piazzale Michelangelo. From there we could see all of Florence- the city and the smaller villages around it. Stunning. We returned for a nap and a delicious home-cooked meal of lasagna before heading out for the night to some of Amanda’s fun recommendations.
March 29- One of the best days of my Europe trip
The Tuscany Tour: Our group of six met up with three other friends from our program and hopped on a bus for the gorgeous Tuscany tour. We had a stunning day and every excursion and drive through the Tuscan countryside seemed straight off a postcard. Our first stop was Siena, where we climbed through the streets and made our way to a stunning church. Inside was the most ornately decorated and possibly the most beautiful church designs I’ve ever seen, even some Moorish influences like those in Andalucia! Then we returned to the main plaza, which is a massive ovular space in which they host a major horse race that is a huge social competition among nearby Italian cities every summer.
From Siena we took another scenic drive to our lunch spot at a B&B/farmhouse in the countryside with views of San Gimignano. We toured the farmhouse and saw the cows from which they make all their own cheese and then settled down to a multi-course delicious feast: pasta, salad, bruschetta, cookies- and three different types of wine. We were a large group, so the rules of number of bottles per table didn’t really apply. When we finished a bottle, we got another. And when the guides sitting next to us didn’t drink theirs, we scooted it on over to our side of the table. Admittedly, we were happily buzzed for the next part of our trip. Before leaving the farmhouse, we took gazillions of pictures of the stunning views. Then we hopped in the bus for the short ride to San Gimignano, a very small town offering two of my favorite features of Italy: great gelato and exquisite views. We had free time to wander around and had a great time playing off our wine buzz around the small town.
We then had a longer beautiful drive to Pisa. Pisa was this: boring. Sure, we had a goofy time taking all the necessary pictures saving the famed tower from crashing to the ground. Other than that, it was very touristy with little to see, but I’m glad I went to see it. Then we piled back in the bus for the final journey back to Florence, watching the sun set on Tuscany. What a fantastic day.
After the long journey, I had to head back to the B&B, pack up my large backpack, and head over to a new hostel, called PlusFlorence, because the girls were moving on to Venice the next day, and I was staying longer in Florence with other friends. The new hostel was far away, but awesome. It was massive- like a hotel. It had a restaurant, bar, club, pool, exercise room, rooftop terrace, and more than 100 rooms. And all very American-student-targeted. So we played there for a while and had a fun night out.
March 30-
I was on my own in the morning, as the girls had gone and my new crew wanted to do all the touristy things I had already done. So I set off on my own to wander Florence. After my friends were stuck in a two-hour line for the David, I remembered my friends Danielle and Stephanie from UW were in from Barcelona- perfect! I called them up and they were right near the Duomo on their way to lunch, so we met and made our way to Santa Croce. Danielle’s brother had been to Florence a few years ago and never forgot a certain restaurant called Baldovino’s- and now I never will either. We sat down in the cozy cute restaurant and ordered pizzas. I had one with pesto sauce and it was the BEST pizza I have ever had. Truth. It was also about the size of a hubcap. We were so full that we didn’t even want to think about dessert. The waiter, however, knew better than us. He came over with a serving of their Swiss double chocolate cake and said we would love it. He said if we didn’t, we wouldn’t have to pay for it. Now I know myself and chocolate cake, so I expected it would have a few bites missing at least. But. WOW. Really, WOW. If you ever go to Florence and do not get the chocolate cake at Baldovino’s, your tongue will hate you forever. I realize how lame I am for writing this much about cake, but it was the best thing I have ever had in my life- ask Danielle and Steph- it just made us so happy! But, ok, let’s get back to normalcy.
Post-cake, we toured Santa Croce Church, which houses the tombs of such Italians as Michelangelo, Galileo and Machiavelli- very cool. Then I went with Danielle to find her a leather jacket. As tempted as I was by the beautiful craftsmanship, I just could not justify the hundreds of Euros they were asking, but the owner did give me a pretty yellow leather change purse for free! So we then wandered the less expensive shops and I bought a few gifts and a gorgeous navy leather wallet. Danielle and I planned on walking and shopping some more, but got caught in a massive downpour and waited it out before saying goodbye and heading back to our hostels.
I had plans to meet up with Amanda for a fabulous dinner at another famous Florentine restaurant that my cousin Mary raved about after she studied in Florence two years ago. What Mary told me, “Get the blueberry steak and the pasta sampler.” Blueberry steak? Is that a joke? Well I decided to trust her, so Amanda and I split a bottle of wine and the steak and pasta. Seriously, who woulda thunk? It was phenomenal. Again, if anyone is going to Florence anytime soon, go to Aqua del Due and get the blueberry steak. YUM. After that I said goodbye to Amanda and returned to my hostel for my last night in Florence.
March 31-
In the morning I met up with my friends Maya, Brian and Andres and we toured through Florence and wound our way back up to Piazzale Michelangelo, which they hadn’t yet seen. Another big hike and unbelievable view. We then hurried back towards our hostel to get our stuff and head to the train station. We stopped at a little restaurant and ordered pasta to go. They gave us free champagne! We made it to the train station, but then had to wait in line to get tickets for Venice. We just made it on the train before it started moving (is this a trend?). There were no seats. None. We settled ourselves in the pull-out shelf seats in the aisle. Oh boy, what a ride. There was no room in the compartments for luggage so we sat among piles of bags and rolling suitcases flew down the aisles when the train made quick movements. We had a box of wine so we shared that among the four of us to make the ride a bit more enjoyable. Eventually, though, a few compartments emptied out as people got off, so we got to sit in comfort! We pulled into a grey Venice late in the afternoon.
You hear all about how Venice is a city built on water, and that water is the only way to get around. It’s really hard to believe until you see it. What a fascinating place.
We mazed our way over bridges to our hostel. This was one for the hostel style record books: lavender walls, bright pink bedspreads, giant stickers of flowers all over the walls with 3D butterflies stuck to them, and posters: Playboy, Marilyn Monroe, and, my favorite: a giant poster of babies. WHAT?! Oh, and one functioning lightbulb in the entire room despite a chandelier and bedside table lamps. It was funky, very funky.
April 1- We went out to check out Venice- took pictures of the canals, the stalls full of Venetian masks, the giant tubs of Nutella- all the touristy things. And since it was a lovely morning and we were a group of six, we decided we could afford a gondola ride! Our driver wasn’t as Venetian-Gondola-driver as I wanted him to be. I had heard of some drivers who would even sing to their passengers! Ours told us his name was Elvis, took off his cool gondola hat, and didn’t talk to us for the rest of the ride. But oh well. It was still really cool to see Venice from the water. Then we strolled around the town (as best we could over bridges and through narrow streets that weren’t labeled on the map) and made our way to Piazza San Marco to see the beautiful buildings and the “coast” of the city. But after that, we really didn’t have much more sightseeing to do! We wanted to see glass-blowing, but didn’t have time. So instead, we ate pizza- pear and gorgonzola for me- a great combo!
April 2-
Time to head back to Sevilla. I LOVED Italy. I think everyone who goes there does. Still, I was so glad to get back to Sevilla- it’s my European home! Alrighty, sorry for the super-long post. Will get to more recent events like my 21st birthday, Feria and my parents coming for a trip to Portugal soon! Love to all back home!
March 24- Up early. Thought I’d make the bus to the airport by walking, underestimated the weight of my new backpacking backpack, grabbed a cab, met up with friends and just made the bus. Airport: long lines, delayed flight, eventually made it to Rome. Took bus to Termini train station that’s close to our hostels. Got scolded for eating my bocadillo (sandwich) on the bus, but I had had to check it because it wouldn’t fit in my carry-on! Cute bus ticket checker: “Excuse me, do you speak English?” Yes, I smile, flutter those eyelashes. “Do you read English?” Uh, crap. Dude points to the sign that says loudly and obviously, “Please don’t eat on the bus.” Yeah, like anyone pays attention to those rules. So that was just an example of the kinds of scoldings I receive in Europe. Everywhere we go: Don’t stand on that! You can’t take of picture of that! Don’t touch! On and on- such luck I have.
Back to Rome. I’m with five other girls. They planned the trip before I knew what I wanted to do for Spring Break, so they had a five-person room at a B&B and I booked a room in a hostel a few blocks away. We split to check in. I walked in my 8-person room, made friends with some Swedish guys in there, and walked out to meet the girls again. We strolled around the city not aiming for a specific site so late in the day, met some South Africans on a bridge, and wandered into Trastevre for our first Italian meal. Mom, thank you. Such a great recommendation. We went big that night with the full five-course meal of bruscetta, salad, pasta, antipasta, and dessert. And wine. Mmmmm. Good. Idea. Then we hit the hay to prepare for Big Day of Sightseeing in Italy #1.
March 25- I didn’t meet the girls that morning. They headed off to see the Vatican, but I did that on a Europe trip two and a half years ago and wanted to explore a bit on my own. I highly recommend lone wandering every once in a while. I explored some churches, a palace, and found myself at the Trevi Fountain and then the Spanish Steps. I saw a big green space on my map and wanted to see what it was, so I ventured beyond the Spanish Steps up to what I now know as the Villa Borghese Gardens. I wandered up a path, higher and higher and found myself at a gorgeous view of all of Rome. The park stretched really far and had tons of great things to see. Lots of green in a massive city. I hung out at the park for a while, just wandering and looking at statues of heads of people like Da Vinci, Machiavelli and Botticelli. Later I met the girls at Castel Sant’Angelo and we found a place near Piazza Navona to have lunch. My first pizza in Italy- need I even say it was delicious? And I saw a friend from high school walking with his parents as we were eating! Small world.
Speaking of home friends, I got to see my lovely friend Laura, who’s studying in the Loyola of Rome program (that my mom and sister Kate have also done!). We met and she gave me a little tour of the city, stopping at the Pantheon and at a heavenly place that sells the best gelato I have EVER had. Strawberry, caramel and white chocolate. Try it. It’s unreal. We walked and talked and later met up with my friends for some more pizza and Laura’s bar recommendations. She knows her city.
March 26-
This was the big Colosseum sightseeing day. We wandered through the narrow and winding streets of Rome and eventually emerged into the sun exposing the massive and always impressive Colosseum. I hit this one up a few years ago, but I definitely wanted to see it again. We found a decent tour and passed the lines to get into the building. I learned a lot of things that I suppose I had forgotten from my previous tour. Or maybe we had a better guide. He was interesting- kept trying to get us to picture ourselves as “fine, wealthy Roman citizens,” aka the kind who would get the good seats in the Colosseum and stick up their noses as they walked past everyone in line. Kind of creepy. However, he got us to picture what the Colosseum would have looked like back then. You forget that at one time it was an ornate theater experience. Fine white marble, rich oil paintings and tapestries covering every wall and ceiling- and all that survives is some of the marble. I also didn’t know the variety of animals they would bring in to fight in the Colosseum- lions, elephants, bears! And then they would chop up the carcasses and serve a feast to the entire audience! Doesn’t sound too appetizing to me, but I guess I’ve never had fresh lion, so what do I know?
We moved on from the tour to a more contemporary Italian meal at a cute outdoor restaurant. I ordered what I thought was baked macaroni- turned out to be cannelloni. Still, not a bad surprise. Any Italian meal is pretty much fantastic in Rome. After lunch we moved on to the next part of the tour- the Roman forum. It was late afternoon so everything was beautifully sunlit, and we walked through the ancient ruins imagining what life would have been like there thousands of years ago. Favorite tour guide story: (in an Australian accent reminiscent of VH1 The Fabulous Life guy) the telling of Romulus and Remus being raised by wolves and the explanation of the famous image of Rome: the two brothers “suckling the she-wolf.” He just kept saying it and we laughed every time!
That wrapped up a long day of sightseeing, but we met up later to sit on the girls’ hotel roof with pizza and wine and invited our friends who arrived from Florence that day. We stayed out enjoying ourselves until the grumpy hotel manager came up and shooed us away.
March 27-
Morning train to Florence went pretty well (by pretty well I mean sprinting to catch our train and hopping on seconds before it left the station). We arrived in what would come to be my favorite city in Italy. LOVED FLORENCE. We walked through the streets and immediately caught sight of the massive Duomo Church. Florence is so small compared to everywhere I’ve been! I guess it’s like Sevilla in that way, but easier to navigate. We easily found our B&B, an adorable three bedroom place run by the nicest couple in the world and their friendly puppy Fiona. We dropped our stuff in our room and were then greeted with glasses of wine and onion rings! We decided to wander around the city for a while, and we met up with my friend Amanda from UW in her apartment just blocks from our B&B. The students definitely have a different experience in Florence. Amanda lived in an adorable and shockingly spacous apartment with four girls from her program. She took us out for lunch at Il Gato y Il Golpe (I remember because it was THAT good) and on a little tour of her city and taught me many things about fountains, churches and statues that I regret to say I’ve already forgotten. We then returned to our B&B for a home-cooked dinner and wine. Homemade Italian food by Italians=AMAZING. So amazing, in fact, that we lapsed into food comas and one-by-one dropped off to sleep, forgoing our Saturday night in favor of a good night’s rest.
March 28-
Big Day of Sightseeing: A short line for the museum to see Michaelangelo’s David- and boy was it impressive and enormous! Then waited in line for Uffizi art museum for two hours- was way worth it for such an incredible museum. Then we grabbed some pizza on the go and made our way across the Ponte Vecchio, through the jewelry shops and gelato coolers, and along the river. We hiked up and up and up to the most amazing view in Florence called the Piazzale Michelangelo. From there we could see all of Florence- the city and the smaller villages around it. Stunning. We returned for a nap and a delicious home-cooked meal of lasagna before heading out for the night to some of Amanda’s fun recommendations.
March 29- One of the best days of my Europe trip
The Tuscany Tour: Our group of six met up with three other friends from our program and hopped on a bus for the gorgeous Tuscany tour. We had a stunning day and every excursion and drive through the Tuscan countryside seemed straight off a postcard. Our first stop was Siena, where we climbed through the streets and made our way to a stunning church. Inside was the most ornately decorated and possibly the most beautiful church designs I’ve ever seen, even some Moorish influences like those in Andalucia! Then we returned to the main plaza, which is a massive ovular space in which they host a major horse race that is a huge social competition among nearby Italian cities every summer.
From Siena we took another scenic drive to our lunch spot at a B&B/farmhouse in the countryside with views of San Gimignano. We toured the farmhouse and saw the cows from which they make all their own cheese and then settled down to a multi-course delicious feast: pasta, salad, bruschetta, cookies- and three different types of wine. We were a large group, so the rules of number of bottles per table didn’t really apply. When we finished a bottle, we got another. And when the guides sitting next to us didn’t drink theirs, we scooted it on over to our side of the table. Admittedly, we were happily buzzed for the next part of our trip. Before leaving the farmhouse, we took gazillions of pictures of the stunning views. Then we hopped in the bus for the short ride to San Gimignano, a very small town offering two of my favorite features of Italy: great gelato and exquisite views. We had free time to wander around and had a great time playing off our wine buzz around the small town.
We then had a longer beautiful drive to Pisa. Pisa was this: boring. Sure, we had a goofy time taking all the necessary pictures saving the famed tower from crashing to the ground. Other than that, it was very touristy with little to see, but I’m glad I went to see it. Then we piled back in the bus for the final journey back to Florence, watching the sun set on Tuscany. What a fantastic day.
After the long journey, I had to head back to the B&B, pack up my large backpack, and head over to a new hostel, called PlusFlorence, because the girls were moving on to Venice the next day, and I was staying longer in Florence with other friends. The new hostel was far away, but awesome. It was massive- like a hotel. It had a restaurant, bar, club, pool, exercise room, rooftop terrace, and more than 100 rooms. And all very American-student-targeted. So we played there for a while and had a fun night out.
March 30-
I was on my own in the morning, as the girls had gone and my new crew wanted to do all the touristy things I had already done. So I set off on my own to wander Florence. After my friends were stuck in a two-hour line for the David, I remembered my friends Danielle and Stephanie from UW were in from Barcelona- perfect! I called them up and they were right near the Duomo on their way to lunch, so we met and made our way to Santa Croce. Danielle’s brother had been to Florence a few years ago and never forgot a certain restaurant called Baldovino’s- and now I never will either. We sat down in the cozy cute restaurant and ordered pizzas. I had one with pesto sauce and it was the BEST pizza I have ever had. Truth. It was also about the size of a hubcap. We were so full that we didn’t even want to think about dessert. The waiter, however, knew better than us. He came over with a serving of their Swiss double chocolate cake and said we would love it. He said if we didn’t, we wouldn’t have to pay for it. Now I know myself and chocolate cake, so I expected it would have a few bites missing at least. But. WOW. Really, WOW. If you ever go to Florence and do not get the chocolate cake at Baldovino’s, your tongue will hate you forever. I realize how lame I am for writing this much about cake, but it was the best thing I have ever had in my life- ask Danielle and Steph- it just made us so happy! But, ok, let’s get back to normalcy.
Post-cake, we toured Santa Croce Church, which houses the tombs of such Italians as Michelangelo, Galileo and Machiavelli- very cool. Then I went with Danielle to find her a leather jacket. As tempted as I was by the beautiful craftsmanship, I just could not justify the hundreds of Euros they were asking, but the owner did give me a pretty yellow leather change purse for free! So we then wandered the less expensive shops and I bought a few gifts and a gorgeous navy leather wallet. Danielle and I planned on walking and shopping some more, but got caught in a massive downpour and waited it out before saying goodbye and heading back to our hostels.
I had plans to meet up with Amanda for a fabulous dinner at another famous Florentine restaurant that my cousin Mary raved about after she studied in Florence two years ago. What Mary told me, “Get the blueberry steak and the pasta sampler.” Blueberry steak? Is that a joke? Well I decided to trust her, so Amanda and I split a bottle of wine and the steak and pasta. Seriously, who woulda thunk? It was phenomenal. Again, if anyone is going to Florence anytime soon, go to Aqua del Due and get the blueberry steak. YUM. After that I said goodbye to Amanda and returned to my hostel for my last night in Florence.
March 31-
In the morning I met up with my friends Maya, Brian and Andres and we toured through Florence and wound our way back up to Piazzale Michelangelo, which they hadn’t yet seen. Another big hike and unbelievable view. We then hurried back towards our hostel to get our stuff and head to the train station. We stopped at a little restaurant and ordered pasta to go. They gave us free champagne! We made it to the train station, but then had to wait in line to get tickets for Venice. We just made it on the train before it started moving (is this a trend?). There were no seats. None. We settled ourselves in the pull-out shelf seats in the aisle. Oh boy, what a ride. There was no room in the compartments for luggage so we sat among piles of bags and rolling suitcases flew down the aisles when the train made quick movements. We had a box of wine so we shared that among the four of us to make the ride a bit more enjoyable. Eventually, though, a few compartments emptied out as people got off, so we got to sit in comfort! We pulled into a grey Venice late in the afternoon.
You hear all about how Venice is a city built on water, and that water is the only way to get around. It’s really hard to believe until you see it. What a fascinating place.
We mazed our way over bridges to our hostel. This was one for the hostel style record books: lavender walls, bright pink bedspreads, giant stickers of flowers all over the walls with 3D butterflies stuck to them, and posters: Playboy, Marilyn Monroe, and, my favorite: a giant poster of babies. WHAT?! Oh, and one functioning lightbulb in the entire room despite a chandelier and bedside table lamps. It was funky, very funky.
April 1- We went out to check out Venice- took pictures of the canals, the stalls full of Venetian masks, the giant tubs of Nutella- all the touristy things. And since it was a lovely morning and we were a group of six, we decided we could afford a gondola ride! Our driver wasn’t as Venetian-Gondola-driver as I wanted him to be. I had heard of some drivers who would even sing to their passengers! Ours told us his name was Elvis, took off his cool gondola hat, and didn’t talk to us for the rest of the ride. But oh well. It was still really cool to see Venice from the water. Then we strolled around the town (as best we could over bridges and through narrow streets that weren’t labeled on the map) and made our way to Piazza San Marco to see the beautiful buildings and the “coast” of the city. But after that, we really didn’t have much more sightseeing to do! We wanted to see glass-blowing, but didn’t have time. So instead, we ate pizza- pear and gorgonzola for me- a great combo!
April 2-
Time to head back to Sevilla. I LOVED Italy. I think everyone who goes there does. Still, I was so glad to get back to Sevilla- it’s my European home! Alrighty, sorry for the super-long post. Will get to more recent events like my 21st birthday, Feria and my parents coming for a trip to Portugal soon! Love to all back home!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Spainy Days
Aaaaand HOLA! Yipes it’s been a while since I’ve written on here. I’ll try not to do that again. Man, I don’t even know where to begin! I guess we’ll go chronologically? I’m going to do this in two parts. These actually take more than a little time to write! The gorgeous weather keeps me from the computer. Not to mention sometimes I have to reference my pictures to remember everything! Alrighty- part one commences now:
Since Barcelona, I’ve had some fun weekends in Spain. I went to the flamenco museum in Sevilla with my program interest group (the four cultures of Andalucia), which was fascinating. If you’re at all interested in the dance/art, this city, or my neighborhood Triana to be specific, is the best place on earth.
One early weekend in March, three friends and I went to Jerez, which literally means “sherry.” We toured the Tio Pepe winery and sampled some sherry- can’t say I’m a huge fan, but it’s alright. We were carted around on a little red train and saw the various steps in wining. They showed us massive barrels of wine that famous people have signed. Mostly Spaniards, but Steven Spielberg and Chelsea Clinton made the cut. There was one really funny thing about the tour that I thought was just odd. The tour guide shushed our group and said, “We have mice.” Um, huh? Apparently it’s a tradition at the Tio Pepe factory to keep a small bowl of wine out for the mice that live there. They have to climb this tiny ladder thing, and apparently only can access enough wine to make them “happy, but not drunk”- her words. I really couldn’t handle this- some of the tourists loved it- walked right up and took pictures. My friend Rozina and I had to step outside so as not to disturb the mice with our laughing. So weird. But a fun experience. We spent the rest of the day wandering Jerez and enjoying some tasty tapas. “Tasty tapas” is kind of redundant, no? Tapas rock. I’m bringing them stateside.
The following weekend, our program offered a daytrip to Cadiz, a coastal town on the Atlantic side, where I had gone for Carnaval in February. We started with tours of the city- a cathedral and some monuments, the usual. We got a break between sights and I had the best pastry I’ve ever had in my life. I’d cartwheel back there for another one of those. Our guide also bought some seafood from a street vendor for us all to try. Apparently it’s pretty much okay in Spain to buy a cup of baby crawfish and eat the dead things raw- just grab a handful! Eyeballs and feelers and all! But hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it, right? Tasted kind of salty. Then in the early afternoon they let us off for free time the rest of the day. It was perfect timing. Right when we got to the beach to eat lunch, the sun came out! So we got to lay on the sand for a couple of hours and enjoy the sun. Apparently we were on the same beach at which Halle Berry emerges from the water in one of the James Bond movies. Cool? After the beach loveliness, my friends and I made our way to a cool market/festival thing. Good food, good music, cool stuff to buy. Great day.
Other than the fun of the weekdays and school (I don’t have to do much for my classes, I’ll admit, but I did have midterms to study for, so that was something), I prepped for Semana Santa. On March 24, I left for Italy! Next post will be a separate “Italian Special,” so I’m going to jump forward and throw my most recent weekend events into this entry: Matalascanas. Helluvanexperience.
In appreciation of the stunning weather Spain has finally blessed us with, my friends and I decided to go to the beach this weekend. Best. Idea. Ever.
My friends Danielle and Stephanie (who I stayed with in Barcelona and met up with in Florence) came to Sevilla for the weekend. After some lovely sightseeing on Friday (we went to the Alcazares- my favorite place in the city), we decided to join a group heading to Matalascanas, a beach near Huelva, Spain, about an hour away. We woke up and headed to the bus station to take the 11:00, for which all our friends had already bought tickets the day before. There was a very long line when we got there and we knew we wouldn’t make their bus. Somehow we were lucky- no idea. A driver came over and told us to come on to the busses and we could get on. Then we tried to buy tickets on the bus and they said we couldn’t! So we had to go to another bus, buy tickets there, then try to get back on the bus, but it was nearly full. Ahhh long story short (well, not really, sorry), we got just about the last seats on the same bus as our friends! Some people were pissed because we made it leave late, but hey- we all got to the beach!
Matalascanas is beautiful! We found a good sandy spot, slathered on the sunscreen, and enjoyed the day. Our group was about 20 people, and there was always something going on. Frisbee, football, cards, a drink or two, sunbathing, music, swimming. Seriously- what is better than that? After I soaked up enough heat and sun, I decided to make the venture to the water. Freeeezing. But then, not so bad. The surf was fantastic, and a few friends and I braved the waves. Dad, you’d be proud of my bodysurfing skills- I employed them well. Only once did I time the wave badly and got pounded on the bottom, but mostly it was fabulous! So we had a very fun, playful day at the beach, and headed to take the bus back at 7. Or so we thought.
Upon arriving at the bus station, we learned that, in fact, there was no 7:00 bus, and the last one had left at 6:00. Woops. A cab driver tried to offer us a ride back to Sevilla for 100 euro, but a few of us had other ideas. A clever Irish girl and her friends also missed the bus, so she organized another bus to come pick the group up for a fee. A good idea. For them. Five friends and I decided we might like another day at the beach. We said our goodbyes to the group (and I to Danielle and Steph- they had an early plane and plans with our friend that night), and then we set off on an adventure. Wandered the gorgeous town, saw most of the sunset, booked a four-star hotel, bought some groceries for dinner. The makings of a fine night. I haven’t been in a nice hotel in SO long! We all got great, hot showers, filled up on food, wandered down to the beach at night, checked out a local bar, and eventually piled into our beds. Woke up to a continental breakfast and a pretty fine pool/Jacuzzi situation. All this fun for, seriously, 16 euro a person. (And it would have cost us 13 to take the bus back!) We spent the day at the pool and beach and did get to take our bus back to Sevilla at 3. Not taking that group bus = best spontaneous decision ever.
Today I’m recovering from all the beach fun, letting my skin enjoy some shade, and, finally, writing this blog post. Will return with tales of Semana Santa in Italy in a couple of days. I’m anticipating needing something to do when it rains here- and sadly that is on the forecast this week. Ah well, I suppose that’s good. It’ll keep me from ditching class to go to the beach. Hasta pronto!
Since Barcelona, I’ve had some fun weekends in Spain. I went to the flamenco museum in Sevilla with my program interest group (the four cultures of Andalucia), which was fascinating. If you’re at all interested in the dance/art, this city, or my neighborhood Triana to be specific, is the best place on earth.
One early weekend in March, three friends and I went to Jerez, which literally means “sherry.” We toured the Tio Pepe winery and sampled some sherry- can’t say I’m a huge fan, but it’s alright. We were carted around on a little red train and saw the various steps in wining. They showed us massive barrels of wine that famous people have signed. Mostly Spaniards, but Steven Spielberg and Chelsea Clinton made the cut. There was one really funny thing about the tour that I thought was just odd. The tour guide shushed our group and said, “We have mice.” Um, huh? Apparently it’s a tradition at the Tio Pepe factory to keep a small bowl of wine out for the mice that live there. They have to climb this tiny ladder thing, and apparently only can access enough wine to make them “happy, but not drunk”- her words. I really couldn’t handle this- some of the tourists loved it- walked right up and took pictures. My friend Rozina and I had to step outside so as not to disturb the mice with our laughing. So weird. But a fun experience. We spent the rest of the day wandering Jerez and enjoying some tasty tapas. “Tasty tapas” is kind of redundant, no? Tapas rock. I’m bringing them stateside.
The following weekend, our program offered a daytrip to Cadiz, a coastal town on the Atlantic side, where I had gone for Carnaval in February. We started with tours of the city- a cathedral and some monuments, the usual. We got a break between sights and I had the best pastry I’ve ever had in my life. I’d cartwheel back there for another one of those. Our guide also bought some seafood from a street vendor for us all to try. Apparently it’s pretty much okay in Spain to buy a cup of baby crawfish and eat the dead things raw- just grab a handful! Eyeballs and feelers and all! But hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it, right? Tasted kind of salty. Then in the early afternoon they let us off for free time the rest of the day. It was perfect timing. Right when we got to the beach to eat lunch, the sun came out! So we got to lay on the sand for a couple of hours and enjoy the sun. Apparently we were on the same beach at which Halle Berry emerges from the water in one of the James Bond movies. Cool? After the beach loveliness, my friends and I made our way to a cool market/festival thing. Good food, good music, cool stuff to buy. Great day.
Other than the fun of the weekdays and school (I don’t have to do much for my classes, I’ll admit, but I did have midterms to study for, so that was something), I prepped for Semana Santa. On March 24, I left for Italy! Next post will be a separate “Italian Special,” so I’m going to jump forward and throw my most recent weekend events into this entry: Matalascanas. Helluvanexperience.
In appreciation of the stunning weather Spain has finally blessed us with, my friends and I decided to go to the beach this weekend. Best. Idea. Ever.
My friends Danielle and Stephanie (who I stayed with in Barcelona and met up with in Florence) came to Sevilla for the weekend. After some lovely sightseeing on Friday (we went to the Alcazares- my favorite place in the city), we decided to join a group heading to Matalascanas, a beach near Huelva, Spain, about an hour away. We woke up and headed to the bus station to take the 11:00, for which all our friends had already bought tickets the day before. There was a very long line when we got there and we knew we wouldn’t make their bus. Somehow we were lucky- no idea. A driver came over and told us to come on to the busses and we could get on. Then we tried to buy tickets on the bus and they said we couldn’t! So we had to go to another bus, buy tickets there, then try to get back on the bus, but it was nearly full. Ahhh long story short (well, not really, sorry), we got just about the last seats on the same bus as our friends! Some people were pissed because we made it leave late, but hey- we all got to the beach!
Matalascanas is beautiful! We found a good sandy spot, slathered on the sunscreen, and enjoyed the day. Our group was about 20 people, and there was always something going on. Frisbee, football, cards, a drink or two, sunbathing, music, swimming. Seriously- what is better than that? After I soaked up enough heat and sun, I decided to make the venture to the water. Freeeezing. But then, not so bad. The surf was fantastic, and a few friends and I braved the waves. Dad, you’d be proud of my bodysurfing skills- I employed them well. Only once did I time the wave badly and got pounded on the bottom, but mostly it was fabulous! So we had a very fun, playful day at the beach, and headed to take the bus back at 7. Or so we thought.
Upon arriving at the bus station, we learned that, in fact, there was no 7:00 bus, and the last one had left at 6:00. Woops. A cab driver tried to offer us a ride back to Sevilla for 100 euro, but a few of us had other ideas. A clever Irish girl and her friends also missed the bus, so she organized another bus to come pick the group up for a fee. A good idea. For them. Five friends and I decided we might like another day at the beach. We said our goodbyes to the group (and I to Danielle and Steph- they had an early plane and plans with our friend that night), and then we set off on an adventure. Wandered the gorgeous town, saw most of the sunset, booked a four-star hotel, bought some groceries for dinner. The makings of a fine night. I haven’t been in a nice hotel in SO long! We all got great, hot showers, filled up on food, wandered down to the beach at night, checked out a local bar, and eventually piled into our beds. Woke up to a continental breakfast and a pretty fine pool/Jacuzzi situation. All this fun for, seriously, 16 euro a person. (And it would have cost us 13 to take the bus back!) We spent the day at the pool and beach and did get to take our bus back to Sevilla at 3. Not taking that group bus = best spontaneous decision ever.
Today I’m recovering from all the beach fun, letting my skin enjoy some shade, and, finally, writing this blog post. Will return with tales of Semana Santa in Italy in a couple of days. I’m anticipating needing something to do when it rains here- and sadly that is on the forecast this week. Ah well, I suppose that’s good. It’ll keep me from ditching class to go to the beach. Hasta pronto!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Barracks, beaches and boots: Barcelona 2010
My fantastic trip to Barcelona marked the first time I really traveled alone. Not bad, not bad at all. Last Thursday, I packed my backpack to the MAX and first lugged it across town to class before heading to the bus stop for the airport. In short: bus>airplane>bus>metro>walk> finally found my way to Danielle’s apartment in Barcelona! I stayed at Danielle’s (a friend from Wisconsin) apartment Thursday night and it was nice to catch up with her and have her show me around her neighborhood (which is a bit further from the center of town).
Friday Danielle and I walked to the train station, which happened to be conveniently close, and picked up my friend Emily, who is studying in Montpelier for the year, and her friend Victoria. I bade adios to Danielle and then Emily, Vic and I metro-ed our way to the hostel. And let me tell ya, folks, I can barely call that a hostel…
The three of us wander up to a building of the hostel address, but no other sign of the hostel’s presence. It’s an apartment building, with an intercom and a list of numbers. Fortunately a woman was going in just as we stood wondering if we should press all the buttons until we go the right one. We wandered up the floors to find the place. (A little history: Em found the hostel online a few months ago and it looked adorable. Her sister, Colleen, who was coming from Scotland to run in the Barcelona Marathon on Sunday with Em, booked the hostel. About a week ago she received an email saying the hostel moved locations—and that was where we were on Friday morning.) On the third floor (oh-so-conveniently called the first because the real first and second decided to go by different names), we found a sign drawn in markers on 8 ½ by 11 paper that read, “Catalina Hostal.” Inside…it was not a hostel. Not in my book. Now I know you’re supposed to rough it up a little when you’re in a hostel. After all, I did sleep in a 32-person room in Amsterdam and got sat on in the middle of the night by a very drunk Australian. This, however, was utter crap. It had been open since the Monday of that week: four days. We checked in and were taken to our room: a quad directly across from the kitchen and adjacent to the common room that resembled army barracks. Dirty white walls (worse than an army barracks’, actually, because those would have been scrubbed clean), two rickety bunkbeds, a narrow window with the view of a concrete wall, and mattresses. The “en-suite bathroom” that was supposed to come with the room was in fact a sink in the room. The keys to the lockers had not been made, so we had to use shoe-box sized lockers in the hall to store only the essential valuables. Why, you ask, would we need lockers in our own quad? Well, here’s the kicker- my favorite part: no locks on the door! I slept every night with my purse between me and the wall. After we all chuckled and moaned a bit about the hostel, we went to the kitchen to get some food- because the hostel had promised us “all meals free!” What could have been one amazing saving grace was another sour disappointment: “all meals free” = all-you-can-eat cornflakes (during the open-kitchen hours), but you have to buy your own milk. Seriously, I can live in crappy conditions for a little while, but can we talk about false advertising?? Alright, alright, enough griping. Just wanted to paint a picture of the shock we received when we found this place, a real lap of luxury.
We left the hostel and decided to spend our first afternoon exploring the Sagrada Familia, one of Antoni Gaudí’s many unfinished buildings, a massive church that he began planning before 1900. (Update from my guidebook: despite the past century+ of continued construction, the estimated finish date is now set for 2030.) It. Was. Phenomenal. I never expected it to be so massive but it was MASSIVE! Gaudi bases many of his designs off natural, organic structures, like trees, fruit, even DNA. Kind of how Dr. Seuss painted Who-ville, I think. It was really unlike anything I could ever have imagined. I could have stayed there hours more! But the cool thing is if I go back in ten years and see it again, it’ll be different!
Sagrada Familia took most of the afternoon, so we returned to the hostel to clean up and head out for dinner with Emily’s and my friend from home, Jack, who is studying there. We went to a Mexican place for some reason. It was decent, but it wasn’t Spain.
Saturday for us was the Big Day of Sightseeing. We started on Las Ramblas, a long street full of stores, restaurants, street performers, artisans, and lots and lots of tourists, which stretches down to the sea. (YEAH- the MEDITERRANEAN SEA!! How cool?!) Emily and Colleen had to go to the marathon expo to get their race stuff, so Vic and I took our sweet time exploring Las Ramblas. First, there was the pet zone. Large carts full of cages of birds, rabbits, turtles, fish tanks…pets. Pets for sale on the street. Well, it’s not something I’m used to, but I’ll go with it. Then were the street performers- although most didn’t really perform. It was a display of “statues,” people dressed as various characters and posing as though frozen until someone tosses them a euro when they do some funky movement and sound in gratitude. Pretty ok. Next we encountered the huggers. I enjoyed the huggers: big groups of people wandering down Las Ramblas with “Free hugs” (in English) posters. Vic got a very motherly one and I got a verrrry long one- and they really did make us feel great! (Don’t worry, ma’n’pa, I made sure it wasn’t a pickpocketing scam- how mean would that be?) We then veered off Las Ramblas and checked out another great market (I’m having good luck with these!) and toured the many produce, cheese, bread meat, etc. stands, trying to avoid the smell of the seafood as Vic ate her ice cream. Then, back to Las Ramblas where we wandered among artists doing caricatures and pretty paintings in the styles of famous Spanish artists- so addicting to watch!
The best part of Las Ramblas, however, was the end of it. Not because I didn’t love it, but because the end = the Mediterranean, complete with harbors, boats and the beach! Vic and I sat and just people watched with the sun shining on us. (Ahh el sol! Por fin!) We then met up with the Coxes once again and wandered along the boardwalk, enjoying the finally sunny outdoors. We found some cool big ships that we could wander on, though I’d have been cool with taking one for a spin. Then we stood and watched a fun band performing outside with a jolly, dancing crowd. All this merriment ended at the beach. THE BEACH! Even though the air was a bit crisp and the water, I’m sure, frigid, we stood on the sand and looked out onto the beautifully lit shoreline. A guy masquerading as a sarong salesman slightly soiled our beautiful beach moment by trying to sell us hash, but it was a great afternoon nonetheless.
We returned to the “hostel” to fix an enormous carb-heavy meal for our runners. Spaghetti with pesto sauce, mmm. Then the Cox girls turned in for a good night’s rest before the big day, and Vic and I headed to a pub to meet up with Jack and his friends and watch a sad loss by Sevilla to Real Madrid. Ahh, well, at least the FC Barce fans in the pub were anti-Madrid with me. We didn’t stay out too late, because we had to get up relatively early to cheer for Emily and Colleen.
Race day was a blast! Vic and I were able to see Emily at 12K and both Colleen and Emily at 30K. We followed some of the course for a while, cheering on every runner whose name we could pronounce. (Smart- everyone’s bib had their first name on it!) We also happened across some cool Gaudi buildings as we made our way to the Arc de Triomph (to me, as cool as Paris’), where we saw Coll and Emily. We stood there for nearly an hour, cheering on EVERYONE! It was such a blast because most of the runners really appreciated hearing personal encouragement and their faces would lose the ¾-of-a-marathon agony and be replaced with smiles and apparent energy! I completely lost my voice for two days after all that yelling. Then we found Em and Coll at the end of the race- they did amazing! Emily achieved a new personal record, dropping 10 minutes from her first marathon time, and Colleen finished her first marathon with a time of 3:49! What champions! It realllly made me want to get out and run another. And how cool to do it in a foreign city!
The rest of the day included long naps for all of us, followed by a large tapas meal. Not a bad day at all. We tried very hard to motivate ourselves to go out that night, but with the marathoners’ exhaustion and the cold rain, we didn’t make it very far.
Monday we all had to head back to our respective cities, so we hugged and departed in the dropping temperatures. I had an hour to kill so I made one last attempt to find the perfect leather boots I had been searching for the past two months in Spain. And guess what??!! I found them! It was such a victory and the perfect way to end my trip to Barcelona. I was also thrilled to get out of a city that later that evening received four inches of snow. It was just starting to fall as I boarded my plane…thanks weather Gods.
Now that completes my tales of Barcelona, but my return to Sevilla also brought some surprises.
First, as I walked from the bus stop straight to class upon my return, whom do I see but DEAN THOMAS! If anyone draws a blank here, think of the cute Gryffindor who shares a dormitory with Harry Potter. I saw him in London two years ago and he signed our pizza box at the HP5 movie premiere! Anyhoo, he was walking down a main road in Sevilla and I recognized him and just stared as he walked along, talking to a friend. I’d bet Nexy Naz it was him, no joke. I honestly think they should have just cast me in the HP movies, I see those guys so much!
Well now I’m home sweet Sevilla and VERY happy to say we are having gorgeous weather this weekend. FINALLY! I have midterms next week, but I plan on spending as many daylight hours as possible out in the sun!
Miss ya’ll! Besos!
Emily and Vic in front of the Sagrada Familia
Emily and Colleen (in their race shirts) and Vic eating lunch on the pier.
Friday Danielle and I walked to the train station, which happened to be conveniently close, and picked up my friend Emily, who is studying in Montpelier for the year, and her friend Victoria. I bade adios to Danielle and then Emily, Vic and I metro-ed our way to the hostel. And let me tell ya, folks, I can barely call that a hostel…
The three of us wander up to a building of the hostel address, but no other sign of the hostel’s presence. It’s an apartment building, with an intercom and a list of numbers. Fortunately a woman was going in just as we stood wondering if we should press all the buttons until we go the right one. We wandered up the floors to find the place. (A little history: Em found the hostel online a few months ago and it looked adorable. Her sister, Colleen, who was coming from Scotland to run in the Barcelona Marathon on Sunday with Em, booked the hostel. About a week ago she received an email saying the hostel moved locations—and that was where we were on Friday morning.) On the third floor (oh-so-conveniently called the first because the real first and second decided to go by different names), we found a sign drawn in markers on 8 ½ by 11 paper that read, “Catalina Hostal.” Inside…it was not a hostel. Not in my book. Now I know you’re supposed to rough it up a little when you’re in a hostel. After all, I did sleep in a 32-person room in Amsterdam and got sat on in the middle of the night by a very drunk Australian. This, however, was utter crap. It had been open since the Monday of that week: four days. We checked in and were taken to our room: a quad directly across from the kitchen and adjacent to the common room that resembled army barracks. Dirty white walls (worse than an army barracks’, actually, because those would have been scrubbed clean), two rickety bunkbeds, a narrow window with the view of a concrete wall, and mattresses. The “en-suite bathroom” that was supposed to come with the room was in fact a sink in the room. The keys to the lockers had not been made, so we had to use shoe-box sized lockers in the hall to store only the essential valuables. Why, you ask, would we need lockers in our own quad? Well, here’s the kicker- my favorite part: no locks on the door! I slept every night with my purse between me and the wall. After we all chuckled and moaned a bit about the hostel, we went to the kitchen to get some food- because the hostel had promised us “all meals free!” What could have been one amazing saving grace was another sour disappointment: “all meals free” = all-you-can-eat cornflakes (during the open-kitchen hours), but you have to buy your own milk. Seriously, I can live in crappy conditions for a little while, but can we talk about false advertising?? Alright, alright, enough griping. Just wanted to paint a picture of the shock we received when we found this place, a real lap of luxury.
We left the hostel and decided to spend our first afternoon exploring the Sagrada Familia, one of Antoni Gaudí’s many unfinished buildings, a massive church that he began planning before 1900. (Update from my guidebook: despite the past century+ of continued construction, the estimated finish date is now set for 2030.) It. Was. Phenomenal. I never expected it to be so massive but it was MASSIVE! Gaudi bases many of his designs off natural, organic structures, like trees, fruit, even DNA. Kind of how Dr. Seuss painted Who-ville, I think. It was really unlike anything I could ever have imagined. I could have stayed there hours more! But the cool thing is if I go back in ten years and see it again, it’ll be different!
Sagrada Familia took most of the afternoon, so we returned to the hostel to clean up and head out for dinner with Emily’s and my friend from home, Jack, who is studying there. We went to a Mexican place for some reason. It was decent, but it wasn’t Spain.
Saturday for us was the Big Day of Sightseeing. We started on Las Ramblas, a long street full of stores, restaurants, street performers, artisans, and lots and lots of tourists, which stretches down to the sea. (YEAH- the MEDITERRANEAN SEA!! How cool?!) Emily and Colleen had to go to the marathon expo to get their race stuff, so Vic and I took our sweet time exploring Las Ramblas. First, there was the pet zone. Large carts full of cages of birds, rabbits, turtles, fish tanks…pets. Pets for sale on the street. Well, it’s not something I’m used to, but I’ll go with it. Then were the street performers- although most didn’t really perform. It was a display of “statues,” people dressed as various characters and posing as though frozen until someone tosses them a euro when they do some funky movement and sound in gratitude. Pretty ok. Next we encountered the huggers. I enjoyed the huggers: big groups of people wandering down Las Ramblas with “Free hugs” (in English) posters. Vic got a very motherly one and I got a verrrry long one- and they really did make us feel great! (Don’t worry, ma’n’pa, I made sure it wasn’t a pickpocketing scam- how mean would that be?) We then veered off Las Ramblas and checked out another great market (I’m having good luck with these!) and toured the many produce, cheese, bread meat, etc. stands, trying to avoid the smell of the seafood as Vic ate her ice cream. Then, back to Las Ramblas where we wandered among artists doing caricatures and pretty paintings in the styles of famous Spanish artists- so addicting to watch!
The best part of Las Ramblas, however, was the end of it. Not because I didn’t love it, but because the end = the Mediterranean, complete with harbors, boats and the beach! Vic and I sat and just people watched with the sun shining on us. (Ahh el sol! Por fin!) We then met up with the Coxes once again and wandered along the boardwalk, enjoying the finally sunny outdoors. We found some cool big ships that we could wander on, though I’d have been cool with taking one for a spin. Then we stood and watched a fun band performing outside with a jolly, dancing crowd. All this merriment ended at the beach. THE BEACH! Even though the air was a bit crisp and the water, I’m sure, frigid, we stood on the sand and looked out onto the beautifully lit shoreline. A guy masquerading as a sarong salesman slightly soiled our beautiful beach moment by trying to sell us hash, but it was a great afternoon nonetheless.
We returned to the “hostel” to fix an enormous carb-heavy meal for our runners. Spaghetti with pesto sauce, mmm. Then the Cox girls turned in for a good night’s rest before the big day, and Vic and I headed to a pub to meet up with Jack and his friends and watch a sad loss by Sevilla to Real Madrid. Ahh, well, at least the FC Barce fans in the pub were anti-Madrid with me. We didn’t stay out too late, because we had to get up relatively early to cheer for Emily and Colleen.
Race day was a blast! Vic and I were able to see Emily at 12K and both Colleen and Emily at 30K. We followed some of the course for a while, cheering on every runner whose name we could pronounce. (Smart- everyone’s bib had their first name on it!) We also happened across some cool Gaudi buildings as we made our way to the Arc de Triomph (to me, as cool as Paris’), where we saw Coll and Emily. We stood there for nearly an hour, cheering on EVERYONE! It was such a blast because most of the runners really appreciated hearing personal encouragement and their faces would lose the ¾-of-a-marathon agony and be replaced with smiles and apparent energy! I completely lost my voice for two days after all that yelling. Then we found Em and Coll at the end of the race- they did amazing! Emily achieved a new personal record, dropping 10 minutes from her first marathon time, and Colleen finished her first marathon with a time of 3:49! What champions! It realllly made me want to get out and run another. And how cool to do it in a foreign city!
The rest of the day included long naps for all of us, followed by a large tapas meal. Not a bad day at all. We tried very hard to motivate ourselves to go out that night, but with the marathoners’ exhaustion and the cold rain, we didn’t make it very far.
Monday we all had to head back to our respective cities, so we hugged and departed in the dropping temperatures. I had an hour to kill so I made one last attempt to find the perfect leather boots I had been searching for the past two months in Spain. And guess what??!! I found them! It was such a victory and the perfect way to end my trip to Barcelona. I was also thrilled to get out of a city that later that evening received four inches of snow. It was just starting to fall as I boarded my plane…thanks weather Gods.
Now that completes my tales of Barcelona, but my return to Sevilla also brought some surprises.
First, as I walked from the bus stop straight to class upon my return, whom do I see but DEAN THOMAS! If anyone draws a blank here, think of the cute Gryffindor who shares a dormitory with Harry Potter. I saw him in London two years ago and he signed our pizza box at the HP5 movie premiere! Anyhoo, he was walking down a main road in Sevilla and I recognized him and just stared as he walked along, talking to a friend. I’d bet Nexy Naz it was him, no joke. I honestly think they should have just cast me in the HP movies, I see those guys so much!
Well now I’m home sweet Sevilla and VERY happy to say we are having gorgeous weather this weekend. FINALLY! I have midterms next week, but I plan on spending as many daylight hours as possible out in the sun!
Miss ya’ll! Besos!
Emily and Vic in front of the Sagrada Familia
Emily and Colleen (in their race shirts) and Vic eating lunch on the pier.
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