With jealousy and because our program at ICADE doesn't pay for us all to travel around Spain and Europe in general (I am not bitter), we decided to venture down to the south of Spain this weekend. To keep costs low we came up with the brilliant plan of leaving Madrid at 1 am Saturday morning (technically?) and arriving in Granada at 6 am. The trip was reminiscent of those times when my mom dragged us all by bus from Mexico City to Sacatecas, only there was no one star hotel to welcome us in Granada for a few blessed hours of sleep. Only 3 degree Celsius weather and the realization that the sun wouldn't rise for another two hours...like the rest of the city.
I don't remember much about the bus ride there, only that since Di and I had spent 5 euros extra, we got a bigger and pretty much empty bus to stretch out on, plenty of leg room and a complimentary water bottle. Also a coupon for a free copa (alcoholic drink) but we may have slept through that rest stop. We climbed through the Spanish Sierra Nevadas with what Di tells me was at a frightening pace, although I had fallen asleep using the seatbelt lock at my pillow with Michael Jackson blaring into my ears, so I would have been oblivious if we had crashed into the Mediterranean Sea.
Getting into Granada was interesting, to say the least. We arrived in a seedy little bus stop, with no sun or moon to light our way. Di and I arrived about 20 minutes earlier than R and Tita and quickly located the bathrooms. Bathrooms didn't have toilet paper, much less a clean seat and I'm sure that's all the imagery you need, but I thank my over-planning mother who made me pack "Charmin Emergency Toilet Seat Covers" and Aurelia, who insisted I take 3 packs of tissues. Thank you, both of you.
For once, Tita and I had our giant "Spain" tour books and we sat in the middle of the bus stop looking super touristy as we read aloud a "walking tour" as suggested by Lonely Planet. At 6:45 am, the barista at the bus stop cafe was super helpful and told us which city bus to grab to get into the center of the town.
And thats when we gave up any hope of pretending to be Spanish and started with our "Gringo Spanish". Gringo spanish, for all of you that don't know, is when you speak spanish in the worst american accent possible. Personally, I can fake a hybrid spanish/english accent so that I'm not speaking like a complete gringa, but all the native speakers know I'm not truly one of them.
Now, the Alhambra is probably the most famous Islamic architecture buildings in Europe, and what we DID NOT realize is that you need to buy tickets to enter the fortress prior to actually hiking up the giant mountain that it sits on top of. I don't even think Disney World sells out like this place does. Luckily we bought garden tickets that were cheaper and let us see almost everything except the inside of the Palace (and the cool lion statues...) There are just tons of flowers and fountains and really neat architecture all around the place.
From the Alhambra, we took a short bus back down into the city, me sitting on R's lap, Tita on Di's and surrounded by an odd and smelly assortment of tourists and natives. *Please note: That in Granada, no matter how old the guy / how young the woman, the man always leaps up and demands the woman sits. I'm not a feminist at all but I think this is really sweet. Especially when they're really old and you'd rather they just sit anyway.
We also made our pilgrimage to the tombs of Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand (and their assorted children). Like most really old places in Europe, we were unable to take a picture of anything past the front doors of the cathedral, but the cathedral itself was quite epic and knowing that the catholic kings were dead and 10 feet in front of us was only a little unsettling.
Finally it was time to go, after a meal of pizza and some browsing at the local stores (Pull and Bear? And some random gift shops) We all headed on another very filled bus towards the bus station and although I still stand by the fact the bus would have gone closer to the station, we got off and ambled for about five minutes over a construction zone where I was forced to walk across a makeshift bridge. Scaryyy.
At 6 pm we departed Granada, tired but full of culture, pizza, and possibly covered in pollen, since there were so many flowers at La Alhambra.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Family Crests
I found these in a gift shop with Danielle and thought they were really cool. Here's a couple of my family's last names. After calling my dad and finding out about 4 more last names, I've realized its probably not a good idea to buy the closest 7 but this is what I've got.
Molina - My Dad's side
Benitez - Mom's Maiden name
Quintana - Great Grandmother's Maiden name
I didn't see the in between names like Enriquez or Andrade at the shop.
Molina - My Dad's side
Benitez - Mom's Maiden name
Quintana - Great Grandmother's Maiden name
I didn't see the in between names like Enriquez or Andrade at the shop.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
My Señora
I feel this blog post is long over due. I have mentioned Aurelia in passing but she is such an integral part of my life abroad that she definitely deserves a highlight all to herself. She's, in the nicest way possible, a funny but original use of the term biddy. Old, mad bad and biddy.
Like a couple of my relatives in Mexico, she has tattooed eyebrows, eyeliner, and lip liner, which is always surprising in the morning when she pops out of the bathroom, hair in a disarray but makeup pretty well kept. Of course nothing beats my raccoon eyes in the morning, but this isn't a competition. I wish I could post a picture of her so that you could just get a visual of this blessed woman, but anytime I suggest we take a picture to send to my family she goes "Ay dios mío, ¡mira como estoy vestida!" (translation: oh my god, look how im dressed!) and then she quickly flees to her room where a few minutes later I can already smell the cigarette she just lit up. To calm herself down of course, from the frenzy I caused by my question
(Update from the time I started writing this blog entry and got distracted: Aurelia is always very curious about Skype. She doesn't own a computer, as the radio is her thang, so whenever she sees me talking to myself, she wanders over to check if I've lost my mind or not. Without fail she'll always see SOMEONE I'm skyping with, although so far the count is I think two...maybe three different people. Although I have yet to get a picture of her, she has been caught on camera. She met my little about an hour ago and she kept saying "Quien es esta bonita? Quien es la guapa?" Which was cute, and of course my little IS adorable, so true. Hilarious my little's name translates as "Gay" in spanish and when Aurelia heard that she got a little flustered and was scared away from the camera once she realized that the camera worked both ways. Too too funny.)
I remember filling out my AU abroad questionnaire on my ideal housing situation and when asked whether or not I cared if my hosts smoked. Of course I don't. Some of my fondest memories in Mexico are from family members lovingly offering me a cigarette at 8 years old. Or driving, smoking, and yelling at their kids (yes, at the same time). Or my aunt telling me how I should find a man who loves me more than I love them, as her lit cigarette hangs precariously above my head, along with her scalding hot coffee. Nope, don't mind cigarettes at all. Point is, I don't mind at all that she smokes, it doesn't get into my room and I generally reek of cigarettes after coming back from the bars/clubs at night anyway. Either way, she will generally hide when the need for a cig arises, either hanging out the kitchen window, or in her room as she watches her Spanish soap operas (different and a little classier than the Mexican ones, if I do say so myself, although less busty...). What would make the most sense would be out the balcony but I've never seen her there. I don't think she wants to choke her plants.
She also has an opinion on everything. I can actually sit there silently, eating my cereal and toast and nod my head obediently, and she'd gladly discuss Canary Island Bananas versus South American Bananas (she is pro Canary Island bananas, whereas my strong Ecuadorian roots favor those of S.A...although I dare not say that out loud). Also, whenever I mention I disagree with an opinion...she looks a little confused and then goes "Todo el mundo es diferente! Hay diferencias entre todos!" Which basically means she thinks I'm wrong...but you know...she's too nice to say it.
She also feeds me like I am a 200 pound man. I am not. She makes this awesome potato tortilla and tops it with chopped tomatoes and again, it's delicious, but the diameter is about a foot long. Sometimes she looks so hurt when I don't finish my meal, I guiltily try to eat more...but than the queasiness kicks in and that's when I know for sure to throw in the towel. She's lovingly embraced the fact that I eat mainly the most at breakfast, but she's becoming sneakier. Unlike before, she now pre-fills my cereal bowl to the top with my Choky Choc cereal (reminiscent of Coca Puffs, but in a concave flake form) and if I don't stop her in time, she tries to make me four pieces of toast at once. If I don't look up in time, her rationale is "well they're already buttered so I have to make them and you have to eat them". After my breakfeast, she'll pat my head like I've done well, by eating so much, and then attempt to feed me some more yogurt.
What's funnier is when I say I'm not hungry, she'll make a gesture like she wants to choke me. Yes violent. But it doesn't stop her, because without fail, she'll stop by my laptop in the dining room and ask again if I want to eat. (The wireless internet doesn't actually work so I always have to be hooked up to the router, which is so inconveniently located in her warpath)
I hope this part doesn't get back to her (haha but if it does oh well)...but she makes me a giant lunch every single possible day (okay its not actually that big). She insists on giving me sandwiches and I'm pretty sure all the Americans here in Spain complain about their sandwiches. Aurelia, without fail, always gives me one salami sandwich (just salami and bread) and one ham/turkey sandwich with a slice of cheese and bread. The sandwiches are very dry and no matter how many times I mention I really don't like the ham/turkey/cheese combo sandwich, they don't vary. Plus theres no condiments. Ew. What I think would frustrate her is if she was to find out that everyday, I hand my second and less appealing sandwich to the homeless man that hangs out on our stoop / on our corner. I can tell he enjoys the sandwich more than I do, and I can't eat two sandwiches. However, when she gives me a sandwich and one tortilla (potato and egg omelette, not the flat flour/corn wrap we know and love in USA/Mexico), I can totally eat those two.
When I can, I'll for sure get you all a pic of her. Byeeeeez
GG
Like a couple of my relatives in Mexico, she has tattooed eyebrows, eyeliner, and lip liner, which is always surprising in the morning when she pops out of the bathroom, hair in a disarray but makeup pretty well kept. Of course nothing beats my raccoon eyes in the morning, but this isn't a competition. I wish I could post a picture of her so that you could just get a visual of this blessed woman, but anytime I suggest we take a picture to send to my family she goes "Ay dios mío, ¡mira como estoy vestida!" (translation: oh my god, look how im dressed!) and then she quickly flees to her room where a few minutes later I can already smell the cigarette she just lit up. To calm herself down of course, from the frenzy I caused by my question
(Update from the time I started writing this blog entry and got distracted: Aurelia is always very curious about Skype. She doesn't own a computer, as the radio is her thang, so whenever she sees me talking to myself, she wanders over to check if I've lost my mind or not. Without fail she'll always see SOMEONE I'm skyping with, although so far the count is I think two...maybe three different people. Although I have yet to get a picture of her, she has been caught on camera. She met my little about an hour ago and she kept saying "Quien es esta bonita? Quien es la guapa?" Which was cute, and of course my little IS adorable, so true. Hilarious my little's name translates as "Gay" in spanish and when Aurelia heard that she got a little flustered and was scared away from the camera once she realized that the camera worked both ways. Too too funny.)
I remember filling out my AU abroad questionnaire on my ideal housing situation and when asked whether or not I cared if my hosts smoked. Of course I don't. Some of my fondest memories in Mexico are from family members lovingly offering me a cigarette at 8 years old. Or driving, smoking, and yelling at their kids (yes, at the same time). Or my aunt telling me how I should find a man who loves me more than I love them, as her lit cigarette hangs precariously above my head, along with her scalding hot coffee. Nope, don't mind cigarettes at all. Point is, I don't mind at all that she smokes, it doesn't get into my room and I generally reek of cigarettes after coming back from the bars/clubs at night anyway. Either way, she will generally hide when the need for a cig arises, either hanging out the kitchen window, or in her room as she watches her Spanish soap operas (different and a little classier than the Mexican ones, if I do say so myself, although less busty...). What would make the most sense would be out the balcony but I've never seen her there. I don't think she wants to choke her plants.
She also has an opinion on everything. I can actually sit there silently, eating my cereal and toast and nod my head obediently, and she'd gladly discuss Canary Island Bananas versus South American Bananas (she is pro Canary Island bananas, whereas my strong Ecuadorian roots favor those of S.A...although I dare not say that out loud). Also, whenever I mention I disagree with an opinion...she looks a little confused and then goes "Todo el mundo es diferente! Hay diferencias entre todos!" Which basically means she thinks I'm wrong...but you know...she's too nice to say it.
She also feeds me like I am a 200 pound man. I am not. She makes this awesome potato tortilla and tops it with chopped tomatoes and again, it's delicious, but the diameter is about a foot long. Sometimes she looks so hurt when I don't finish my meal, I guiltily try to eat more...but than the queasiness kicks in and that's when I know for sure to throw in the towel. She's lovingly embraced the fact that I eat mainly the most at breakfast, but she's becoming sneakier. Unlike before, she now pre-fills my cereal bowl to the top with my Choky Choc cereal (reminiscent of Coca Puffs, but in a concave flake form) and if I don't stop her in time, she tries to make me four pieces of toast at once. If I don't look up in time, her rationale is "well they're already buttered so I have to make them and you have to eat them". After my breakfeast, she'll pat my head like I've done well, by eating so much, and then attempt to feed me some more yogurt.
What's funnier is when I say I'm not hungry, she'll make a gesture like she wants to choke me. Yes violent. But it doesn't stop her, because without fail, she'll stop by my laptop in the dining room and ask again if I want to eat. (The wireless internet doesn't actually work so I always have to be hooked up to the router, which is so inconveniently located in her warpath)
I hope this part doesn't get back to her (haha but if it does oh well)...but she makes me a giant lunch every single possible day (okay its not actually that big). She insists on giving me sandwiches and I'm pretty sure all the Americans here in Spain complain about their sandwiches. Aurelia, without fail, always gives me one salami sandwich (just salami and bread) and one ham/turkey sandwich with a slice of cheese and bread. The sandwiches are very dry and no matter how many times I mention I really don't like the ham/turkey/cheese combo sandwich, they don't vary. Plus theres no condiments. Ew. What I think would frustrate her is if she was to find out that everyday, I hand my second and less appealing sandwich to the homeless man that hangs out on our stoop / on our corner. I can tell he enjoys the sandwich more than I do, and I can't eat two sandwiches. However, when she gives me a sandwich and one tortilla (potato and egg omelette, not the flat flour/corn wrap we know and love in USA/Mexico), I can totally eat those two.
When I can, I'll for sure get you all a pic of her. Byeeeeez
GG
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I Have Been Sick for 10 Days, Yet That Hasn't Stopped Me
It's true. Many of you might remember me mentioning my fatigue and fever from Valencia. Well the fever only lasted that night and is gone but I got my annual (whats the word for every two or so years?) outbreak of a nasty cold sore due to the intense fever, which then was followed by what I believe is a cold accompanied by post nasal drip which then caused a sore throat and ... possibly a sinus infection. But the cool thing is I'll never know...nor did I at any time over these past 8 days, see a doctor. They take care of things a little differently here in España. If you feel sick, you go to the pharmacy, not to an actual doctor or a hospital. Hospitals I believe are for serious things like...broken bones and cancer. Whereas anything that can be taken care of over the counter will be taken care of over the counter.
My first experience at the pharmacy was with Julia (the pharmacist) at the pharmacy around the corner from Aurelia's house last Wednesday. It was for my fever blister thing that decided to consume half my face. I walked in and pointed to my chin because I had failed to SpanishDict.com the word for cold sore, but Julia nodded knowledgeably and scurried into the backroom where she produced a tiny tiny tiny tube of gel/cream that was supposed to be applied 5 times a day (even though there was really only enough for one day). At 2.50 euros it was quite a bargain since Abreva generally costs me (ie. my mom) around 12 dollars I believe.
Second experience was Friday when I had officially run out of the medicine and needed to pick up my friend (studying abroad in Rome but was coming to visit) from the airport. Outbreak was severe and I was officially not getting the cat calls from men due to it. I rushed into another pharmacy very close to my Friday classes and this time Teresa (I made up Teresa's name because I didn't actually have time to notice, they were super fast) the pharmacist saw me walk in and I think she was a little startled. Cold sores are not pretty okay? After a "oh...but it has advanced quite a lot." from her (translated from Spanish) she produced the exact same cream and charged me only 2 euros this time. Medicine is cheap in Madrid.
Ran to get D from the airport...or rather I calmly took the metro and I slowly realized I had failed to establish a meeting point and that my Spanish phone to her Italian phone was not connecting. Amazingly enough, I was walking towards the terminal I knew she was in and as fate would have it we literally ran into each other. I hadn't even begun to panic yet. Probably because at this point the actual illness that is in my body decided it wasnt getting enough attention and my sinus' plugged up and I was little light headed.
But see...being sick does not stop the fact that I am in Madrid or the fact that D was visiting. So I continued onward.
And by onward I literally mean I think I've walked everywhere in Madrid. I saw so many things that I haven't just because I don't think I've been exploring as much as I should be. We walked around Aurelia's house, which is very very close to Casa de Campos where there is an amusement park (didn't go into the park, but its there), giant pond with row boats and men doing crew (is that the verb?) as well as a lot of outdoor restaurants and a ZOO (again, didn't go in...but its there).
On Saturday, when Madrid decided to rain instead of be sunny and cool like it normally is, we walked all over the city. Started at Aurelia's house and up towards Templo de Debod which is ACTUALLY a legit ancient Egyptian ruin imported FROM Egypt (to clarify) as was originally in southern Egypt dedicated to the Egyptian Goddess Isis. Back in the day, southern Egypt was flooding (like Egypt generally does...I hear, but more severely I assume) and Spain donated a lot of money for ruin preservation...so much that Egypt was so grateful they donated this Temple and they re-constructed it about a mile away from Aurelia's house. So although I doubt I'll get to go to Egypt while I'm here, its cool I got to see this. I think I've said Egypt enough that you all get the point. Egypt. We also met this random Spaniard named Pedro who once he took our picture, offered to get us into clubs for free. And he had the cutest dog ever. The Spanish are just so damn nice.
From there we walked through Plaza de España and although I pass this monument almost EVERY time I go to class, I always pass the back end of it and I never realized what it was until I was up close. It's got Cervantes seated, looking down on Don Quijote and Sancho Panza, who you all already know are my faves. Also for the past month, they've had a sort of open market at Plaza de España where everyone is selling these "Llamadores de Angeles" which are really long necklaces with basically a bell decorated and placed in a little sphere. I'm beyond tempted to buy one and may have to go back. A lot of people wear them here (and owl necklaces? random...)
I am going to wrap up this blog post with my final visit to the Pharmacy. I went back to Julia (real name, although identity is confidential). After my hectic week I had become completely blocked up in the nasal region along with the sore throat. I swiftly walked into the Pharmacy to wait in line for twenty minutes, as it appeared a group of fifty year old women had all come in together to purchase all the needs for all their families. Julia, seeing and recognizing me, finally ushered me to the side and once again, as it so happens, my Spanish failed me and I forgot how to say mucus. (Essential to know I suppose). Actually I did remember the term "Mocos" which we affectionately refer to my one uncle occasionally, but I thought it was some Mexican slang and opted to whisper it due to my uncertainty and the fact it sounds ridiculous. Julia laughed and produced a giant bottle of anti-mocos (I'm lazy and I'm not going to actually go check the bottle) but just said take it 3 times a day. She didn't actually specify the amount, but I assumed two cap fulls 3 times a day would be sufficient.
It makes me a little dizzy but I feel its been effective. I have so much to write still, but I think this blog post has exceeded the "interesting" limit and I'll wait a couple days to post the rest!!!
Love you alllllllllllll.
P.S. No more barcelona this weekend. (i.e. No Puyol stalking). Trip there and back was just so DAMN expensive. SIGH
My first experience at the pharmacy was with Julia (the pharmacist) at the pharmacy around the corner from Aurelia's house last Wednesday. It was for my fever blister thing that decided to consume half my face. I walked in and pointed to my chin because I had failed to SpanishDict.com the word for cold sore, but Julia nodded knowledgeably and scurried into the backroom where she produced a tiny tiny tiny tube of gel/cream that was supposed to be applied 5 times a day (even though there was really only enough for one day). At 2.50 euros it was quite a bargain since Abreva generally costs me (ie. my mom) around 12 dollars I believe.
Second experience was Friday when I had officially run out of the medicine and needed to pick up my friend (studying abroad in Rome but was coming to visit) from the airport. Outbreak was severe and I was officially not getting the cat calls from men due to it. I rushed into another pharmacy very close to my Friday classes and this time Teresa (I made up Teresa's name because I didn't actually have time to notice, they were super fast) the pharmacist saw me walk in and I think she was a little startled. Cold sores are not pretty okay? After a "oh...but it has advanced quite a lot." from her (translated from Spanish) she produced the exact same cream and charged me only 2 euros this time. Medicine is cheap in Madrid.
Ran to get D from the airport...or rather I calmly took the metro and I slowly realized I had failed to establish a meeting point and that my Spanish phone to her Italian phone was not connecting. Amazingly enough, I was walking towards the terminal I knew she was in and as fate would have it we literally ran into each other. I hadn't even begun to panic yet. Probably because at this point the actual illness that is in my body decided it wasnt getting enough attention and my sinus' plugged up and I was little light headed.
But see...being sick does not stop the fact that I am in Madrid or the fact that D was visiting. So I continued onward.
And by onward I literally mean I think I've walked everywhere in Madrid. I saw so many things that I haven't just because I don't think I've been exploring as much as I should be. We walked around Aurelia's house, which is very very close to Casa de Campos where there is an amusement park (didn't go into the park, but its there), giant pond with row boats and men doing crew (is that the verb?) as well as a lot of outdoor restaurants and a ZOO (again, didn't go in...but its there).
On Saturday, when Madrid decided to rain instead of be sunny and cool like it normally is, we walked all over the city. Started at Aurelia's house and up towards Templo de Debod which is ACTUALLY a legit ancient Egyptian ruin imported FROM Egypt (to clarify) as was originally in southern Egypt dedicated to the Egyptian Goddess Isis. Back in the day, southern Egypt was flooding (like Egypt generally does...I hear, but more severely I assume) and Spain donated a lot of money for ruin preservation...so much that Egypt was so grateful they donated this Temple and they re-constructed it about a mile away from Aurelia's house. So although I doubt I'll get to go to Egypt while I'm here, its cool I got to see this. I think I've said Egypt enough that you all get the point. Egypt. We also met this random Spaniard named Pedro who once he took our picture, offered to get us into clubs for free. And he had the cutest dog ever. The Spanish are just so damn nice.
From there we walked through Plaza de España and although I pass this monument almost EVERY time I go to class, I always pass the back end of it and I never realized what it was until I was up close. It's got Cervantes seated, looking down on Don Quijote and Sancho Panza, who you all already know are my faves. Also for the past month, they've had a sort of open market at Plaza de España where everyone is selling these "Llamadores de Angeles" which are really long necklaces with basically a bell decorated and placed in a little sphere. I'm beyond tempted to buy one and may have to go back. A lot of people wear them here (and owl necklaces? random...)
I am going to wrap up this blog post with my final visit to the Pharmacy. I went back to Julia (real name, although identity is confidential). After my hectic week I had become completely blocked up in the nasal region along with the sore throat. I swiftly walked into the Pharmacy to wait in line for twenty minutes, as it appeared a group of fifty year old women had all come in together to purchase all the needs for all their families. Julia, seeing and recognizing me, finally ushered me to the side and once again, as it so happens, my Spanish failed me and I forgot how to say mucus. (Essential to know I suppose). Actually I did remember the term "Mocos" which we affectionately refer to my one uncle occasionally, but I thought it was some Mexican slang and opted to whisper it due to my uncertainty and the fact it sounds ridiculous. Julia laughed and produced a giant bottle of anti-mocos (I'm lazy and I'm not going to actually go check the bottle) but just said take it 3 times a day. She didn't actually specify the amount, but I assumed two cap fulls 3 times a day would be sufficient.
It makes me a little dizzy but I feel its been effective. I have so much to write still, but I think this blog post has exceeded the "interesting" limit and I'll wait a couple days to post the rest!!!
Love you alllllllllllll.
P.S. No more barcelona this weekend. (i.e. No Puyol stalking). Trip there and back was just so DAMN expensive. SIGH
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Puyol
I'm rather obsessed and currently have nothing better to do (okay well there IS that Franco reading I should be doing) than blog about my love for the FC Barcelona player. Cheers Mario, this makes me a Barca fan.
What I currently know about him:
He's 32 years old. He prefers yoga to the club scene. He has long beautiful curly hair. He plays center defender for FC Barcelona and was on the Spanish championship team for the last world cup. He is a follower of Buddhism. He ALSO has a blogspot blog (for those of you who don't know...I write using blogspot.)
http://carles5puyol.blogspot.com/
I'm actually going to Barcelona next weekend to meet my big who is surprisingly (but inconveniently) showing up in Spain, yet not the actual city I'm staying in (silly big...) and going with my friend Tita (of course!). Perhaps I can convince them both to do a day of Puyol seeking (because I do not stalk...)
I leave you with this wonderful picture of Puyol. Isn't he sweet?
GG
What I currently know about him:
He's 32 years old. He prefers yoga to the club scene. He has long beautiful curly hair. He plays center defender for FC Barcelona and was on the Spanish championship team for the last world cup. He is a follower of Buddhism. He ALSO has a blogspot blog (for those of you who don't know...I write using blogspot.)
http://carles5puyol.blogspot.com/
I'm actually going to Barcelona next weekend to meet my big who is surprisingly (but inconveniently) showing up in Spain, yet not the actual city I'm staying in (silly big...) and going with my friend Tita (of course!). Perhaps I can convince them both to do a day of Puyol seeking (because I do not stalk...)
I leave you with this wonderful picture of Puyol. Isn't he sweet?
GG
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Valencia - The City That Is Always Sleeping
Vale, we went to Valencia this past weekend, a hearty group of 6 American University students. In this trip I not only flew my first RyanAir flight (scary shit) and slept in my first hostel (nice, but not purple like their marketing campaign declares), I enjoyed the sights of this way old city and philosophized with my fellow comrades on religious views...after a few glasses of vino, of course.
We first arrived in Valencia October 1st around 4 pm, my brother's twenty-fifth birthday actually!, to complete and utter quiet. It was a little eerie, walking around what we thought was downtown, but actually turned out to be the older section. All the shops close for their siesta, which I understand that almost everywhere in Spain still enjoys this custom, just not Madrid.
The 6 of us stayed in the Purple Nest Hostel in Valencia, highly rated and recommended on Hostelworld.com (do you think I get free stuff if I start name dropping businesses and the such?) and checked into our 8 person dorm. No matter how much planning we did, we knew we were bound to get two roommates into our 8 person dorm, especially on a weekend.
The hostel itself was huge and nothing like what I've always imagined / what my mother warned me about. It had about 6 floors and our dorm had its own bathroom, although the floor baths were better and I can easily say that this hostel provided me with the best shower I've had in a month. No offense to Aurelia's house, there's just not hot water or pressure...like ever.
Valencia is the third largest city in Spain, next to Barcelona and Madrid of course. Walking around, one would think you'd be in a little town but we climbed up a giant bell tower (and when I say climbed, I mean we used every breath in our body to get ourselves to the top because it was enormous) and we were rewarded with this view.
It is a little dark, as the sun was setting on a cloudy day, but it was even calmer up here than in the mostly sleeping city.
Plus, what would a trip to Valencia be without Paella? Valencia createdddd Paella. Oh dear, I nearly dropped my laptop on the tile floor. No bueno. Anyway, back to Paella. Here's a pick with the mostly gone Paella and did everyone know you could get a bottle of wine in Spain for like $10?!
This wasn't an all together thrilling blog post, mainly because Sunday morning I awoke feeling gross (and no...not too much vino mom) which then escalated to include fatigue and fever! Our flight back was with RyanAir again, and the turbulence made it feel like the plane was actually going to crash. My friend J literally was freaking out next to me and said that in my attempt to sleep and not move a muscle I barely registered the turbulence (which I noticed but was feeling so sick that I prayed for death ughardgklhag)
Currently reading up on Franco to keep myself enlightened and because I'm taking a class on it! I think I've finally gotten my classes all sorted out, but we'll see what AU does to mess it up!
<3 GG
We first arrived in Valencia October 1st around 4 pm, my brother's twenty-fifth birthday actually!, to complete and utter quiet. It was a little eerie, walking around what we thought was downtown, but actually turned out to be the older section. All the shops close for their siesta, which I understand that almost everywhere in Spain still enjoys this custom, just not Madrid.
The 6 of us stayed in the Purple Nest Hostel in Valencia, highly rated and recommended on Hostelworld.com (do you think I get free stuff if I start name dropping businesses and the such?) and checked into our 8 person dorm. No matter how much planning we did, we knew we were bound to get two roommates into our 8 person dorm, especially on a weekend.
The hostel itself was huge and nothing like what I've always imagined / what my mother warned me about. It had about 6 floors and our dorm had its own bathroom, although the floor baths were better and I can easily say that this hostel provided me with the best shower I've had in a month. No offense to Aurelia's house, there's just not hot water or pressure...like ever.
Valencia is the third largest city in Spain, next to Barcelona and Madrid of course. Walking around, one would think you'd be in a little town but we climbed up a giant bell tower (and when I say climbed, I mean we used every breath in our body to get ourselves to the top because it was enormous) and we were rewarded with this view.
Plus, what would a trip to Valencia be without Paella? Valencia createdddd Paella. Oh dear, I nearly dropped my laptop on the tile floor. No bueno. Anyway, back to Paella. Here's a pick with the mostly gone Paella and did everyone know you could get a bottle of wine in Spain for like $10?!
Currently reading up on Franco to keep myself enlightened and because I'm taking a class on it! I think I've finally gotten my classes all sorted out, but we'll see what AU does to mess it up!
<3 GG
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