Alrighty. Finally another chance to sit down and catch everybody up on my last two and a half weeks. SO...after getting back from Madrid, I had another week of school, but this one was much busier than the last one. I was starting to feel the pressure of planning trips for the upcoming free weekend and, more importantly, my three free weeks after the end of our program in Salamanca. I spent many an afternoon sitting in Café y Té, sipping iced coffee and surfing the internet, and before I knew it, the weekend was upon me. Sarah and I planned a whirlwind trip to Granada, with our first bus leaving late on Thursday night. The driver actually showed up an hour late, probably due to the huge thunderstorm that had been going off and on all night. Luckily, we weren't planning a very tight connection between Sevilla and Granada, so even with the hour delay, we had a couple hours to wander around Sevilla in the morning before hopping on another bus.
We breakfasted on the banks of the Rio Guadalquivir, with a great view of the Queen Isabel bridge (I'd post pictures but I don't have my computer, and therefore have no way to post photos until later on). Upon finishing one of the many bocadillos that our host moms packed for us, we crossed the Queen Isabel and wandered along the riverside, passing by some cool old buildings and funky streets on our way to the cathedral. The cathedral in Sevilla is enormous and beautiful. Unfortunately, we weren't able to see much of it because they were holding a service, but we at least got to go inside and see the interior.
After leaving the cathedral, we wandered around it until we found La Giralda, a huge clock tower, topped by an ornate statue representing faith. We stopped there to listen to one of the guided tours for a bit, and then continued with our wanderings towards the bus station. We finally made it there twenty minutes before our next bus was to leave, and decided to quickly dash (literally) over to the Plaza España, which we'd heard was a beautiful sight to see. It was indeed, and though we could only stand and behold its brick and tile glory for a few minutes, it was worth the run to make it there and back on time. With a triumphant feeling and a few glimpses of Sevilla under our belts, we clambered onto our next bus, which would take us to Granada. We were tired, seeing as we didn't sleep much on the ride from Salamanca to Sevilla, so most of the short trip to Granada was spent dozing off. Every once in a while, I would wake up to see enormous olive groves spreading away from the road on both sides, surrounding small white cities situated on distant hilltops. It seemed like a completely different land than anything else in Spain that I'd seen, especially when we rounded a corner and snow-capped mountains loomed into view.
Upon arriving in Granada, it was hot and sunny, and we immediately took a liking to the city. We had to take a city bus into the center of town, where we hopped off at the cathedral and walked our way up a winding brick road to find our hostel. We actually smelled the place before we saw it...someone had used entirely too much Lysol in their cleaning, and we could smell the cleaning fluid from a couple blocks away. Nonetheless, the place was nice, clean, and relaxing, and in a prime location for exploring some very cool parts of the city.
After a quick lunch (of some more homemade bocadillos), we hiked up to the Alhambra to see how long it would take, and then we wound our way back down into town along narrow cobblestoned walkways (turned out that there were very typical of the parts of Granada that we explored, adding a lot to its charm and appeal). We found a supermarket on our way, and picked up all sorts of delicious veggies and fruits and cheeses and made sure to stay as far away from carbs as we could (considering that we ate way too much bread and pasta and rice at home in Salamanca, we decided to kick the carbs for the weekend in an attempt to cleanse our systems a bit). We brought our feast back to the hostel and stored it for later...Spain was playing in the World Cup, and we had to find a good bar in which to watch the game. We hopped around from place to place, and finally settled on a bar called La Antigüalla, which had a medieval theme, complete with suit of armor and swords on the walls. It was here that we first experienced southern hospitality, in the form of free tapas with the sangrias we ordered. It took us a while to figure the system out, but once we did, it seemed like a brilliant idea...for the first drink you order, you get one type of tapa (at this bar, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and french fries), and the tapas continally changed as you ordered more and more drinks. Apparently, Antigüalla has nine different "levels" of tapas...I'm curious what they'd start serving around number six or seven. As it was, the tapas we got while we watched the game served as our dinner, and we went to bed early so as to take full advantage of the next day in Granada.
That day, Saturday, was one of the most perfect days I've ever had. We woke up early, ate breakfast, and ventured out in search of the mirador recommended to us by the hostel staff. On our way there, we wound our way through more quaint and forgotten-looking cobblestoned and white-walled streets, stopping every few meters to take a picture of this or that thing. We passed through a street filled with Arab shops, each one displaying colorful clothing, beautiful leather bags, and tasty aromatic teas. We eventually climbed our way up to the Mirador de San Nicolás, on a hill opposite the Alhambra, where we happened upon a bunch of artists sketching the fortress and its surroundings. We sat on some shady stairs and enjoyed one of the most deliciously simple snacks ever...just apples and cheese, but oh so juicy and flavorful. As we munched, we watched throngs of elegantly-dressed people arrive...part of a wedding party, just coming to the church at the mirador in anticipation of the ceremony which was to take place later that day.
After a bit more rest, we got back on our feet and continued to wander, stopping in to see the gardens of a mosque and then work our way through a lively neighborhood with white walls, overflowing garderns, tiled signs, and Arab architecture. We passed a small, crowded market, and eventually made our way into Sacromonte, the gypsy neighborhood, which lies on a hill overlooking the rest of the city and affording great views of the Alhambra and the valley below. Sacromonte is known for its cuevas, where flamenco dancers put on nightly shows, and we had wandered our way into the neighborhood under the pretense of finding the particular cueva where we were going to see a show later that day. However, it would have been worth heading into Sacromonte just to see the area, because to one side, you had the view of Granada spreading out at your feet, and to the other, a seemingly wild and dry canyon that wound its way far back into the countryside.
After our explorations of Sacromonte, we headed back to the hostel for some lunch and a little R&R before visiting the Alhambra in the afternoon. Our lunch, although again, very simple, was perfect...fresh salad and yogurt with one of the ripest mangoes on the planet. We sat in bliss for a while at the end of our meal, and then took a short siesta before trekking our way back up to the Alhambra (only about 15 minutes walking from our hostel). We picked up our tickets, which we ordered the night before, and commenced our journey through the fascinating fortress. We visited the Palacios Nazaries, the royal Arab residences, and were awed by the ornate beauty of what we found there. Every surface was decorated with some kind of design, and the arching doorways and calm reflective pools gave the palaces a sense of foreign serenity (which was admittedly somewhat dampened by the fact that we were trying to enjoy the sights along with hundreds of other people).
After completing our tour of the Palacios, we continued on to the Alcazaba, the military fortress that forms the bow of the ship-like shape that the Alhambra takes on the hilltop. This felt about as different as anything could be from the palaces...its plain, thick stone walls and mighty towers were a sharp contrast to the delicate intricacy of the royal Arab residence. Wandering around the Alcazaba felt like playing in a real castle...we ran through courtyards and climbed towers that afforded more great views of the city below.
After finishing at the Alcazaba, we went to enjoy the gardens of the Generalife for a few minutes before they closed. Wandering between the manicured hedges, trickling fountains, and blooming rosebushes gave us a tranquil feeling, aided by the setting sun and the fresh air. We could have stayed there much longer, but the Alhambra was closing and we had a date with some flamenco.
We ate a light, quick dinner at our hostel before making our way back up to Sacromonte for the flamenco spectacle. The cueva we went to, La Chumbera, was located in a prime spot...beautiful gardens and a great view. We watched the sunset outside, and then headed inside the theater for the show. The stage was situated with a full glass wall behind it, and once the show started, they pulled up the curtains to expose an incredible backdrop...the Alhambra, the city, and Sacromonte, all illuminated against the coming darkness. This view, combined with the incredible dancing and music, made for a great experience. The only thing that would have made the evening better would have been to see some female dancers...the only two performers were male, and while they were phenomenal, I would have liked to see the female (more traditional) side of the dance.
The next day began later for us...we decided to let ourselves sleep in, wake up slowly, and walk to a park to do some homework for make up for the day of class that we were missing for our weekend trip. All in all, it was a lazy Sunday, and our last day in Granada, which we topped off by one last visit to Antigüalla to watch the World Cup game between Mexico and Argentina.
The next day, Monday, was busy and increible. We caught an early bus from Granada to Malaga, taking advantage of the proximity to Spain's southern coast and fitting in a little day trip instead of going to class that day (of course, we'd cleared everything with our professor, as it was the only way to make the trip worth the time and money it would take). Once in Malaga, we wandered our way down to the Malagueta, a beautiful sunny beach, and proceeded to while away our afternoon sunning and swimming and sunning and swimming and napping and swimming and sunning. We spent a few good hours just relaxing, and then had to make our way back to the bus station for another overnight bus all the way back to Salamanca (a nine hour trip). Along the way, we finished our homework for the next day, taking breaks to watch Rataouille in Spanish (they played it on the bus's tvs) and bear witness to a beautiful sunset over the fields somewhere in the Extremadura region of the country. We finally made it back home at 3:30 in the morning, and I crawled into bed for a few hours before getting up to go to class. Although the weekend was long and tiring, it was most definitely worth it...we saw some amazing things and got to see a very different region and culture of Spain.
The rest of that week flew by so quickly...we had our final three days of class, which also meant our final three days in Salamanca. Amidst tiny amounts of homework and trip planning, we were also trying to enjoy the last few chances to do our favorite things in the city we had grown to love...everyone began to take a pretty sentimental angle to everything that we did, and the phrase "this is the last time" came up quite often. Before we knew it, class was done (and Pamela, like a saint, didn't make us do much of anything for our final besides do a very quick class presentation about the play we had been reading) and it was time to head to Portugal for a long weekend!
It was a lot of fun to see a new country, one so close to Spain and yet pretty different from its neighbor. We went to a small coastal town called Mira, where we stayed in a beautiful hacienda-turned-hotel four kilometers from the mightly Atlantic. For three days, we had no agenda other than to have no agenda...we could come and go as we pleased, nap, walk, swim, eat, talk, go to the beach, watch the World Cup games...it was an excellent way to unwind after six weeks of (not so) challenging school work. The ocean there was very powerful, and each day we went to the beach, the coast guard had the red (no swim) flag flying. We eventually heard about a part of the beach that wasn't patrolled by the lifeguards, where we could go swim without being fined, and we ventured our way there. The water in that little bay had a strange sideways current to it that could knock you over if you weren't paying attention...after experiencing that, it was easier to understand why the red flags were out. It made for a great time swimming in such powerful water, where the waves were taller than I was.
The days in Portugal passed far too quickly, and before anyone was ready for it, the day came to return to Salamanca, pack our final things, and head to Madrid a few hours later. Seeing as our bus left at five, we all felt it appropriate, in true Salamanca spirit, to stay up all night until the bus came...5 am was always considered early in terms of Spanish nightlife, and we wanted to get one last night in at our favorite spots. Staying up all night made it very easy to sleep for the three hour ride to the Madrid airport, and the only time I woke up (by design, surely) was to see the sun peak its brilliant head over the hills and send intense golden rays shooting across the land and into my eyes. It seemed like a fitting goodbye.
Once we got the airport in Madrid, our group split up...some were traveling home that day, and others were staying in Spain or going elsewhere to see other parts of Europe. A few of us got dropped off at a hotel in Madrid where we'll be staying on our last night before flying back stateside...for booking a night with them, they allowed us to store our bags there for free. We dropped off our belongings and relaxed in the hotel lobby for a few hours before hopping on a city bus to start the next leg of our journey.
This takes me up to the sixth of July, and though there's much more to tell, it will have to wait for another time (I feel bad dominating the computer for as long as I have). In the meantime, I'll sum it up in three points: wine country, running with the bulls, emerald isle. It's been a blast thus far, and it's hard to believe it's only been a week and a half since we left Salamanca...that already seems like ages ago. You know what that means...time's been flying, so I must be having fun!
20 Junio 2010
Santiago is a very cool city. Granted, it rained the entire time I was there, so I didn’t get to see as much as I would have liked, but I still managed a fair bit of exploring. My hostel wasn’t far from the old cener of town, so it was an easy walk to the interesting part of the city. I arrived Tuesday evening in a drizzle and trekked my way through the empty wet streets towards the albergue. Along the way, I met Allison, a girl from Seattle who was on the same bus as I was. We found the hostel, got settled in, and went down to the kitchen to mingle. There, we met Jake (from Maine), Ruth (from England/Italy), and Miguel (from Germany). We decided to venture out and check out Santiago by night, so we wandered our way down to the cathedral, which was nicely illuminated and surrounding by flying birds. The image of the lit building and the light underbellies of the birds against the black rainy sky was amazing…and of course, I left my camera in the hostel, not wanting to get it wet. As had the rest of us. So we stood and observed for a few minutes and then decided to find a little bar to dry off in. We discovered one really close to the cathedral that was pretty cool…had the cozy feel of a pub, with pictures of people and their pets on the walls accompanied by plaques advocating action against animal abuse. Downstairs, we found a small stage where a poster child of the deadhead generation was rocking out on his guitar to every Jerry Garcia song under the sun. Most people were just sitting and watching, but there was, of course, one man with a curly mop of hair, a worn-in button-up, and a tan leather vest dancing his heart out inches from the stage, in that following-my-internal-rhythm kind of dance that the hippies of the sixties perfected. We listened for a while, highly amused by the spectacle before us, and then decided to head back to get some rest.
The next day dawned as grey and damp as the previous one, so we only ventured out for the morning. It was, however, a very cool little excursion. We went back to the cathedral during mass and stayed for the entire service. Our original intent was to see the fabled enormous censer that they use in the cathedral during holy years (when Santiago’s birthday falls on a Sunday, like this year). We learned that its use has to be requested by pilgrims, so it’s not present at every service, including ours. However, we decided to stay and see what mass was like, which seemed especially appropriate in the city that’s the final destination of one of the most important pilgrimages in the world. It didn’t seem particularly spectacular to me, but it was really cool to see all the different types of people there, some of which had obviously just finished their camino. After mass, we walked back outside and were immediately serenaded by the echo of bagpipes. We turned a corner and found them, being played by a man in full traditional dress beneath the shelter of a small tunnel. We listened for a while, snapped a couple of pictures, and then headed to el Museo del Peregrino to see what it would tell us about the Camino. It detailed a bit about the history and expansion of the cathedral, and the story of how several of Santiago’s (St. James’s) followers sailed with his body to the northwestern region of Spain, but none of us gathered very well a reason for Santiago’s importance and why it would spark such a phenomenon as the camino. After the museo, we headed back toward the hostel for lunch and a relaxing afternoon (that’s when I wrote my last post).
The next day, Thursday, was my last one in Santiago, but I had all day to wander around the city more (in fact, I had to because I’d checked our of my hostel and didn’t have a place to just hang out). I spent hours just exploring the city streets, going in more circles than I intended, and getting a feel for Santiago. I stumbled upon a market, various churches, and some pretty parks and plazas. One of the larger parks had a few bookstand set up on one of its walkways, and I found a gem in one of them: a first edition copy of “El Amor en los Tiempos de Cólera”. Yes, in Spanish. It’s my project for the rest of the summer.
After a good day of wandering around, I headed back to the hostel to pick up my backpack and jumped on an overnight bus that would take me to San Sebastián, where a group of friends from my program were going to spend a free weekend. It rained almost the entire time, and we saw a couple rivers flooding their banks as we drove along. It was a bit of an alarming feeling to watch the water creep close to the road, but in the end we had no problems getting to San Sebas on time. I hopped off the bus at 6:40 am, after almost 13 hours, into what else but more precipitation. I took advantage of the hotel across the street from the bus stop, going in to use their restroom and get a town map. From there, I made my way, following the river, towards the sea, and met up with the friends I’d be sharing a hostel with. Luckily, we were able to get in and leave our backpacks there until we could officially check in to our room. To kill some time, we wandered around the neighborhood around our hostel, checking out the sights and hunting for some breakfast. Our albergue was located in an old part of town a couple blocks from the beach, a prime location, even if it was in the middle of the bar district. Turned out to be a fun place to be once the World Cup games started, because we could just go downstairs, out into the street, and take our pick of plenty of places packed with people.
As the day progressed, we checked into our hostel and then Bridget, Allison (the two girls I was staying with), and I went for a little hike up the monte (big hill) at one end of the bay. The road we took spiraled up to the top, so every corner we turned had a new interesting view. The higher up we climbed, the better the view of the bay below, with the city spreading away from it into the valley. It was a fun little adventure, and we worked up enough of an appetite to go for an early paella lunch with Hunter and Mattias (the other guys we were staying with). The food was delicious, and we felt much more energetic afterwards. We ventured our way to the beach, which was beautiful, and lounged for a couple hours. It was at this point that my friend Michelle arrived and met up with us (she’s working as an au-pair in a little pueblo outside of Vitoria, only a couple hours away from San Sebas by bus, and came to spend the weekend with us). It was really nice to see her again, and we hung out for a bit before heading to a bar to watch the first game of the World Cup between South Africa and Mexico. Although I was, of course, cheering for the Mexican team, I was glad to see South Africa come out strong, considering they were the host country and not expected to go far at all. The rest of the weekend continued in much the same fashion…hiking, beach time, and World Cup games. The US-England game was especially fun, since we found a bar full of English and Irish guys, and once we added our contingent from the States, it got really loud. The trend continued the following day, when the entire town of San Sebas seemed to be parading through the streets right outside our hostel in anticipation of the Real Sociedad game (it’s their local team that was playing to get into the highest league of national teams, and in the end, they won). Everywhere we looked we saw a sea of blue and white, and several mini marching bands playing simultaneously made for an exciting kind of chaos.
Before I knew it, I was back in Salamanca and in class. The first week passed pretty uneventfully, although it was really nice to be back in Salamanca. I was able to spend time with my friends again, explore more of the city, and go to dance classes, among other things. The next weekend was our class trip to Madrid, which was pretty fun and full of lots of activity. We arrived on Friday afternoon and the rest of the day to ourselves to wander around and do as we pleased. Nicole, Kathleen, and I explored the streets around our hotel and the Plaza Mayor, finding lots of cool shops and street performers. One of our favorites stores was called Tierra, full of beautiful handmade jewelry. We loved the experience almost more than the actual stuff in the store...when you walked in, they gave you a flower. And if you bought something, they gave you a little bag to put it in and some ice cream. We loved it because we felt oh so special. Best business plan ever. After finally tearing ourselves away from Tierra, we sat and watched a comedian do his routine and I almost died laughing. He had a very dry, sarcastic sense of humor and considered nothing to be off limits. Couple this with his facial expressions and it made for a really funny show.
Friday night, a group of us went to explore the gay district of the city, called Chueca. We checked out a few bars to get a feel for the ambience of the area, and my favorite by far was the one that handed out free tapas and candy. A good tactic to make you thirsty and get you to buy more drinks, but for us it was just a tasty treat.
Saturday morning we visited the Prado museum and saw a lot of really cool works of art. The museum is huge, and there’s no way we could have seen it all, so we went through with a guide to explain the most important pieces to us through the framework of the evolution of painting styles throughout Europe. Our tour lasted for a couple hours, and we were then free to wander the city again for the afternoon. I stayed in the Prado a bit longer to see some more of the artwork, and then wandered into a huge park with a few other kids from my group. We spent a bit of time there, and then hopped on a touristic bus (yes, a touristic bus) to see what we could see. It was a nice way to rest the feet, and we saw a lot more sights than we would have walking around. We got off at the Palacio Real to check out that building and the adjacent Catedral de la Almudena. We had to pay to go into the palace, so we only observed from outside its gates, but entrance to the cathedral was free, so we ventured inside. And good thing we did, because that building is beautiful. It’s got more modern architecture with cleaner, less adorned surfaces and really cool painted designs on the ceilings. The space was huge and echoed like a singer’s dream. It was one of the most beautiful cathedrals I’ve seen.
But even the beauty of the cathedral was topped by what I saw in the Basílica San Francisco el Grande, a short walk away from the Palacio Real. This round building looks pretty modest from the outside, compared to what it houses. The entire ceiling was covered with a beautiful fresco that looked like heaven. The moment we walked in, our heads were as far back as they could go, and we eventually laid down on the pews to get a better look at the splendor above us. We weren’t supposed to take photos, but I couldn’t resist, and snuck a couple quick shots. They turned out pretty well, considering I wasn’t looking through the viewfinder when I took them.
We wandered our way back to our hotel after visiting the Basílica, and rested up for a couple hours in anticipation of the big night ahead of us. It was my friend Sarah’s 19th birthday, and we’d planned as a group to go to a famous discoteca that evening. Although it took a little effort to coordinate the entire group en route to Kapital, the 7-story dance party was well worth the hassle. Each floor was home to a different type of music, so it was pretty hard to get bored there. If you didn’t like what you were hearing on the current level, you just had to go up or down and you’d be immersed in a whole new kind of aural delights. Oh what fun!
The next day was our return to Salamanca, but not before stopping at the Museo Reina Sofia to see some more art. This one housed more paintings, but of an abstract or cubist vien...think Picasso. After the museo, Eric, Collin, and I wandered into El Rastro, a neighborhood famous for its huge openair market every Sunday. We spent a while wandering through the endless stalls, and then headed back to our hotel to catch the bus that would bring us back homeward.
The next day dawned as grey and damp as the previous one, so we only ventured out for the morning. It was, however, a very cool little excursion. We went back to the cathedral during mass and stayed for the entire service. Our original intent was to see the fabled enormous censer that they use in the cathedral during holy years (when Santiago’s birthday falls on a Sunday, like this year). We learned that its use has to be requested by pilgrims, so it’s not present at every service, including ours. However, we decided to stay and see what mass was like, which seemed especially appropriate in the city that’s the final destination of one of the most important pilgrimages in the world. It didn’t seem particularly spectacular to me, but it was really cool to see all the different types of people there, some of which had obviously just finished their camino. After mass, we walked back outside and were immediately serenaded by the echo of bagpipes. We turned a corner and found them, being played by a man in full traditional dress beneath the shelter of a small tunnel. We listened for a while, snapped a couple of pictures, and then headed to el Museo del Peregrino to see what it would tell us about the Camino. It detailed a bit about the history and expansion of the cathedral, and the story of how several of Santiago’s (St. James’s) followers sailed with his body to the northwestern region of Spain, but none of us gathered very well a reason for Santiago’s importance and why it would spark such a phenomenon as the camino. After the museo, we headed back toward the hostel for lunch and a relaxing afternoon (that’s when I wrote my last post).
The next day, Thursday, was my last one in Santiago, but I had all day to wander around the city more (in fact, I had to because I’d checked our of my hostel and didn’t have a place to just hang out). I spent hours just exploring the city streets, going in more circles than I intended, and getting a feel for Santiago. I stumbled upon a market, various churches, and some pretty parks and plazas. One of the larger parks had a few bookstand set up on one of its walkways, and I found a gem in one of them: a first edition copy of “El Amor en los Tiempos de Cólera”. Yes, in Spanish. It’s my project for the rest of the summer.
After a good day of wandering around, I headed back to the hostel to pick up my backpack and jumped on an overnight bus that would take me to San Sebastián, where a group of friends from my program were going to spend a free weekend. It rained almost the entire time, and we saw a couple rivers flooding their banks as we drove along. It was a bit of an alarming feeling to watch the water creep close to the road, but in the end we had no problems getting to San Sebas on time. I hopped off the bus at 6:40 am, after almost 13 hours, into what else but more precipitation. I took advantage of the hotel across the street from the bus stop, going in to use their restroom and get a town map. From there, I made my way, following the river, towards the sea, and met up with the friends I’d be sharing a hostel with. Luckily, we were able to get in and leave our backpacks there until we could officially check in to our room. To kill some time, we wandered around the neighborhood around our hostel, checking out the sights and hunting for some breakfast. Our albergue was located in an old part of town a couple blocks from the beach, a prime location, even if it was in the middle of the bar district. Turned out to be a fun place to be once the World Cup games started, because we could just go downstairs, out into the street, and take our pick of plenty of places packed with people.
As the day progressed, we checked into our hostel and then Bridget, Allison (the two girls I was staying with), and I went for a little hike up the monte (big hill) at one end of the bay. The road we took spiraled up to the top, so every corner we turned had a new interesting view. The higher up we climbed, the better the view of the bay below, with the city spreading away from it into the valley. It was a fun little adventure, and we worked up enough of an appetite to go for an early paella lunch with Hunter and Mattias (the other guys we were staying with). The food was delicious, and we felt much more energetic afterwards. We ventured our way to the beach, which was beautiful, and lounged for a couple hours. It was at this point that my friend Michelle arrived and met up with us (she’s working as an au-pair in a little pueblo outside of Vitoria, only a couple hours away from San Sebas by bus, and came to spend the weekend with us). It was really nice to see her again, and we hung out for a bit before heading to a bar to watch the first game of the World Cup between South Africa and Mexico. Although I was, of course, cheering for the Mexican team, I was glad to see South Africa come out strong, considering they were the host country and not expected to go far at all. The rest of the weekend continued in much the same fashion…hiking, beach time, and World Cup games. The US-England game was especially fun, since we found a bar full of English and Irish guys, and once we added our contingent from the States, it got really loud. The trend continued the following day, when the entire town of San Sebas seemed to be parading through the streets right outside our hostel in anticipation of the Real Sociedad game (it’s their local team that was playing to get into the highest league of national teams, and in the end, they won). Everywhere we looked we saw a sea of blue and white, and several mini marching bands playing simultaneously made for an exciting kind of chaos.
Before I knew it, I was back in Salamanca and in class. The first week passed pretty uneventfully, although it was really nice to be back in Salamanca. I was able to spend time with my friends again, explore more of the city, and go to dance classes, among other things. The next weekend was our class trip to Madrid, which was pretty fun and full of lots of activity. We arrived on Friday afternoon and the rest of the day to ourselves to wander around and do as we pleased. Nicole, Kathleen, and I explored the streets around our hotel and the Plaza Mayor, finding lots of cool shops and street performers. One of our favorites stores was called Tierra, full of beautiful handmade jewelry. We loved the experience almost more than the actual stuff in the store...when you walked in, they gave you a flower. And if you bought something, they gave you a little bag to put it in and some ice cream. We loved it because we felt oh so special. Best business plan ever. After finally tearing ourselves away from Tierra, we sat and watched a comedian do his routine and I almost died laughing. He had a very dry, sarcastic sense of humor and considered nothing to be off limits. Couple this with his facial expressions and it made for a really funny show.
Friday night, a group of us went to explore the gay district of the city, called Chueca. We checked out a few bars to get a feel for the ambience of the area, and my favorite by far was the one that handed out free tapas and candy. A good tactic to make you thirsty and get you to buy more drinks, but for us it was just a tasty treat.
Saturday morning we visited the Prado museum and saw a lot of really cool works of art. The museum is huge, and there’s no way we could have seen it all, so we went through with a guide to explain the most important pieces to us through the framework of the evolution of painting styles throughout Europe. Our tour lasted for a couple hours, and we were then free to wander the city again for the afternoon. I stayed in the Prado a bit longer to see some more of the artwork, and then wandered into a huge park with a few other kids from my group. We spent a bit of time there, and then hopped on a touristic bus (yes, a touristic bus) to see what we could see. It was a nice way to rest the feet, and we saw a lot more sights than we would have walking around. We got off at the Palacio Real to check out that building and the adjacent Catedral de la Almudena. We had to pay to go into the palace, so we only observed from outside its gates, but entrance to the cathedral was free, so we ventured inside. And good thing we did, because that building is beautiful. It’s got more modern architecture with cleaner, less adorned surfaces and really cool painted designs on the ceilings. The space was huge and echoed like a singer’s dream. It was one of the most beautiful cathedrals I’ve seen.
But even the beauty of the cathedral was topped by what I saw in the Basílica San Francisco el Grande, a short walk away from the Palacio Real. This round building looks pretty modest from the outside, compared to what it houses. The entire ceiling was covered with a beautiful fresco that looked like heaven. The moment we walked in, our heads were as far back as they could go, and we eventually laid down on the pews to get a better look at the splendor above us. We weren’t supposed to take photos, but I couldn’t resist, and snuck a couple quick shots. They turned out pretty well, considering I wasn’t looking through the viewfinder when I took them.
We wandered our way back to our hotel after visiting the Basílica, and rested up for a couple hours in anticipation of the big night ahead of us. It was my friend Sarah’s 19th birthday, and we’d planned as a group to go to a famous discoteca that evening. Although it took a little effort to coordinate the entire group en route to Kapital, the 7-story dance party was well worth the hassle. Each floor was home to a different type of music, so it was pretty hard to get bored there. If you didn’t like what you were hearing on the current level, you just had to go up or down and you’d be immersed in a whole new kind of aural delights. Oh what fun!
The next day was our return to Salamanca, but not before stopping at the Museo Reina Sofia to see some more art. This one housed more paintings, but of an abstract or cubist vien...think Picasso. After the museo, Eric, Collin, and I wandered into El Rastro, a neighborhood famous for its huge openair market every Sunday. We spent a while wandering through the endless stalls, and then headed back to our hotel to catch the bus that would bring us back homeward.
9 June 2010
The last week has absolutely flown by...since I haven't written in a while, I have to try to remember everything I've done...ha. OK so starting 165 hours ago, I took a nice exploratory stroll in the afternoon to an area of Barcelona called Montjuïc, in the southeastern part of the city and actually very close to my hostel. I walked around the "mountain" for a few hours, ascending gradually to get some nice views of the city and the port as they spread out below. I eventually reached the Castillo de Montjuïc, one of the highest points in the area, where I could see the entire valley, filled with buildings. One of the first things I noticed about the skyline...La Sagrada Familia sticks out like a sore thumb. The building is seriously enormous. And it's not even to its full height yet. The tallest towers at the moment are 112 meter high, but the main tower, dedicated to Jesus, will eventually reach 170 meters up into the air. Some pictures of the views from Montjuïc:
Montjuïc is also the part of town where the Olympic Games were held in 1992. It's home to the majority of the sporting facilities, like the pool and the stadium. I'm not sure if they're being used for anything else now, but they're still there:
On the way back down from Montjuïc, I decided to catch a bus to the Plaza de España, which is a big transportation hub on the south side of town, just to see a different part of town. What I didn't know was that the plaza was also very close to the national palace, which was an impressive sight getting off at the bus stop. It now houses the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, so I didn't go inside, but I did climb all the stairs up to the palace entrance. Its higher vantage offered other good views of the surrounding cityscape, and the cloudy sky made for some cool, ominous-looking photos:
For my last day in Barcelona, I got a relatively early start on the day and walked through the more well-known parts of town, from the coast inward. First stop was the monument to Cristobal Colón (Christopher Columbus), which stands in the middle of a round-about on a waterfront road. He's pointing out towards the ocean, presumably in the direction of the beginning of his journey:
The monumento a Colón stands at the end of Calle La Rambla, a pedestrian zone running through the heart of Barcelona. It's lined with shops and street vendors, as well as plenty of people. It's a pleasant walk, shaded by trees and providing tempting glimpses of side streets as they curve away from La Rambla. About halfway to Plaza Catalunya, where La Rambla ends, I found a big covered market, reminiscent of the ones I loved in Oaxaca. Stalls were filled with fruits and vegetables and nuts and meats and cheeses. There were also seafood vendors with their day's fresh catch...most of the crustaceans were still stirring even as they lay in the ice on display. I definitely saw more than one person jump as they walked by a "dead" lobster and suddenly it moved.
Soon after perusing the market, I reached Plaza Catalunya, located at the center of Barcelona. Before branching off into the Barri Gòtic (Gothic neighborhood), I couldn't help but laugh at the little kids scaring all the pigeons...especially funny because it's something I do too.
Then I ventured into the Gothic part of town, characterized by narrow streets lined with stone buildings at least a few stories high. This definitely had a different feel to it, and it felt like it belonged to a completely different city. I discovered this feeling more and more as I explored the various areas of Barcelona. I wound my way through the Gothic neighborhood until I reached the Gothic cathedral, which has the reputation of being a very impressive building. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to go inside because I was wearing shorts, but the doorman was nice enough to let me stand in the entryway and look at and take pictures of what I could from there. With the number of people going in and out, I easily could have snuck into the cathedral, but I didn't want to be disrespectful. I managed to get a decent shot of the main nave from the doorway:
Next, I went into the gardens behind the cathedral, which were small but pretty. And what did I find there but an egg dancing atop a thin spout of water. This is a tradition that apparently comes from a Eastern myth that took hold in Catalonia. According to the myth, as long as the egg is dancing, the region will prosper. It must have some importance within the Church and local culture, because the small fountain that supported this spectacle was surrounded by large flower garlands and trellises.
Upon leaving the gardens and the dancing egg behind, I turned a corner to find a bridge running over the street between two buildings. Although I'm not sure what the structure's original purpose was, it reminded me of the Bridge of Sighs in Venice (although I hope it served a less sinister function).
Passing under the bridge and continuing for a couple more blocks, I came upon a plaza filled with people protesting Spain's solution to the financial crisis and budget deficits. From the little I know about it, the government plans to cut salaries of its workers in order to save money. While this is fine for the higher-ups who live a cushy life as it is, it doesn't bode so well for teachers, doctors, transportation workers, etc. Therefore, there have been protests like this all over the country.
Walking around a little more, I found the Plaza del Rey and the steps atop which the Catholic kings welcomed Cristobal Colón back from the Americas. (Random fact: when this happened, the Gothic cathedral was already 800 years old).
Wandering further in the direction of the sea, I passed into the Born area of Barcelona, which has even more funky character than the Gothic neighborhood. Its streets are just as narrow, but they house eccentric shops and restaurants, and plant boxes galore reside in upper-story balconies.
Here, I visited the Picasso Museum, which detailed the beginnings of Picasso's life and work, focusing on the time he spent in Barcelona. While it didn't house any of his most famous paintings, it was interesting to see the beginning of Picasso's painting, and how his original style was very different than that of his iconic Cubist works. He went through a few periods of experimentation with colors and quite a few moves between Spain and Paris before he delved into Cubism, which he finally did in the early 1900s. Picasso was also a sculptor/potter, and the museum had some of his ceramic works on display.
It's also in the Born part of the city that the church Santa Maria del Mar sits, and true to the character of the area, just in front of the church is a small plaza surrounded by ice cream and coffee shops where traveling artists put on performances. While I was there waiting for the church to reopen for afternoon visitation, a group of four guys came along with a hand drum and a berimbau (a Brazilian instrument resembling a bow) and did some acrobatics and capoeira. They were all good at what they did, and I can't imagine the impacts their feet must have felt on the stone floor of the plaza. I also found the advertising directly in front of the church to be somewhat ironic, especially considering my experience at the Gothic cathedral earlier in the day (although they weren't as strict at Santa Maria del Mar).
The interior of Santa Maria was beautiful, although not quite what I expected, for all the talk I heard about it. The church itself was pretty simple, and very similar to any other church of the time period. It did, however, have gorgeous stained glass windows, and their designs even strayed from the traditional biblical depictions (there were, for instance, windows dedicated to the sun and the moon). The rose window was the most intricate one in the church:
After Santa Maria del Mar, it was time to relax on the beach for a couple hours. Since I was there on my own I didn't get to swim much, but the girls next to me were nice enough to watch my bags while I went for a quick dip. Now I've swum in the Mediterranean!
That evening, I went with a few friends from my hostel back to the National Palace to see la Fuente Mágica (the Magic Fountain). It was a programmed show with lights and accompanying music. Against the backdrop of the palace and the city, it was pretty cool.
Whew. That takes me up to early Friday morning, when I got in a taxi to get on a bus to get on a plane to get on a bus to get to Gijón to visit Andrew! The view from the air was pretty cool: misty mountain and the Pyrenees.
I spent five days in and around Gijón, exploring the sights of Asturias. For the first day we didn't do much. Andrew met me at the bus station and we walked back to his flat while he gave me a bit of a scenic tour of the city. He and his flatmates really do live right in front of the beach. The view from their living room window is pretty nice:
Gijón is actually something like the fourth most populous city in Spain, but it doesn't feel like it when you walk around downtown. It feels smaller than Salamanca, but has far more people living within its boundaries (220,000 as opposed to 170,000). In the afternoon, we took it easy, made some food and then opted for a siesta on the beach. It was a cloudy day so the sun wasn't too hot, but the air was warm enough for swimsuits. After napping for a couple hours, we met up with some of his friends and played some American football (I would have rather played real football, but as it was, one of the guys had just gotten an American football and was consequently very excited to play with it). We played 3-on-3 for a couple of hours until dinner time, and then met back up on the beach later on in the evening to hang out. Andrew is the only guy from the U.S. studying in Gijón, and the rest of the people in his group of friends are from elsewhere in Europe, studying abroad through the Erasmus program. Everyone I met was really nice, and we all had fun together.
My second day there was an exploratory one...Andrew and I took a bus to a point about eight kilometers away from town and walked all the way back along various beaches and trails. It was another cloudy day, but again, not too cold, and the coast was beautiful (it lived up to its Spanish name, la Costa Verde).
After walking around all day, we went with a group of friends to another beach for a barbeque. This beach, Xago, was fairly big and had some good waves, so quite a few people were out surfing. We watched them into the evening, and then started up the grill and cooked and ate for a couple hours. Good food, good company, good fun.
The next day was also somewhat cloudy, so we opted for a day trip to Oviedo, which is 28 kilometers away from Gijón (for anyone who's seen "Vicki Cristina Barcelona", Oviedo is the place they go for the weekend). We hiked up Monte Naranco (all 600 some meters of it) and saw two ninth-century churches along the way, Santa María del Naranco and San Miguel de Lillo. Atop the monte is a large statue of Jesus which is pretty impressive, but since it was super windy up there, we didn't stay for long.
Once we came back down from Naranco, we wandered around Oviedo a bit. Andrew had been there many times before for classes and with friends, so he took me on a sort of tour around the old city center. We saw a statue tribute to Woody Allen (the director of Vicky Cristina Barcelona), as well as a bunch of other abstract statues. We also went to Oviedo's cathedral, although it was unfortunately closed because it was Sunday afternoon. However, the exterior of the building was beautiful.
Our next adventure took us to Cangas de Onís, a small mountain town that prides itself as being the gateway to the Parque Nacional Picos de Europa. Cangas reminded me quite a bit of Salida, in that it's a small mountainous river town that relies very heavily on tourism, but otherwise has a sleepy and relaxed ambience. There are two rivers that run through it...the Río Sella and the Río Güeña. The Sella was beautiful, with cristal clear turquoise water. As it ran underneath an old Roman bridge, I couldn't help but think of a scene out of the LOTR films...Rivendell, perhaps? Andrew and I explored the town for a bit and then decided to head up into the hills to see if we could find a lookout point about five kilometers away. The climb was relatively steep, and with the sun out, it made for some good exercise. We climbed all the way through Cangas until we reached the área recreativo above the city, and then continued on from there on a network of windy narrow dirt roads. Although we never reached the official lookout point, we did have some great views along the way, and wandered around numerous fields and pastures, just to see what we would find. We walked up the sort of spine of one of the hills, where we could see beautiful terrain on both sides of us. We could see the Río Sella slicing through a valley far below us, and the mountains that sloped upwards from the river were somewhat reminiscent of Andean lands.
In all of our adventuring around Asturias, Andrew and I always packed lunches to take with us, and that's how I stumbled upon this valuable fact: Asturian cheese is really good. The people make many different varieties, ranging from soft to hard, and using any combination of goat, cow, and sheep milk. And they all have a delicious strong flavor. Yum.
It was great to see Andrew again, but yesterday we parted ways and I arrived here, in Santiago de Compostela. I'll be here through tomorrow evening, at which point I'll hop on an overnight bus to San Sebastian, where I'll spend the weekend with a bunch of friends from CC. It's been rainy the whole time I've been here, so I haven't done as much as I would have liked thus far. However, the hostel I'm staying at is very cool, as are the people I've met here, so we've gone on short excursions together and spent quite a bit of time sitting around and talking. I also figured it was an opportune time to post an update here. For now, though, I'll leave it at this. This blog is already turning into an encyclopedia. Take care, be great.
Montjuïc is also the part of town where the Olympic Games were held in 1992. It's home to the majority of the sporting facilities, like the pool and the stadium. I'm not sure if they're being used for anything else now, but they're still there:
On the way back down from Montjuïc, I decided to catch a bus to the Plaza de España, which is a big transportation hub on the south side of town, just to see a different part of town. What I didn't know was that the plaza was also very close to the national palace, which was an impressive sight getting off at the bus stop. It now houses the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, so I didn't go inside, but I did climb all the stairs up to the palace entrance. Its higher vantage offered other good views of the surrounding cityscape, and the cloudy sky made for some cool, ominous-looking photos:
For my last day in Barcelona, I got a relatively early start on the day and walked through the more well-known parts of town, from the coast inward. First stop was the monument to Cristobal Colón (Christopher Columbus), which stands in the middle of a round-about on a waterfront road. He's pointing out towards the ocean, presumably in the direction of the beginning of his journey:
The monumento a Colón stands at the end of Calle La Rambla, a pedestrian zone running through the heart of Barcelona. It's lined with shops and street vendors, as well as plenty of people. It's a pleasant walk, shaded by trees and providing tempting glimpses of side streets as they curve away from La Rambla. About halfway to Plaza Catalunya, where La Rambla ends, I found a big covered market, reminiscent of the ones I loved in Oaxaca. Stalls were filled with fruits and vegetables and nuts and meats and cheeses. There were also seafood vendors with their day's fresh catch...most of the crustaceans were still stirring even as they lay in the ice on display. I definitely saw more than one person jump as they walked by a "dead" lobster and suddenly it moved.
Soon after perusing the market, I reached Plaza Catalunya, located at the center of Barcelona. Before branching off into the Barri Gòtic (Gothic neighborhood), I couldn't help but laugh at the little kids scaring all the pigeons...especially funny because it's something I do too.
Then I ventured into the Gothic part of town, characterized by narrow streets lined with stone buildings at least a few stories high. This definitely had a different feel to it, and it felt like it belonged to a completely different city. I discovered this feeling more and more as I explored the various areas of Barcelona. I wound my way through the Gothic neighborhood until I reached the Gothic cathedral, which has the reputation of being a very impressive building. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to go inside because I was wearing shorts, but the doorman was nice enough to let me stand in the entryway and look at and take pictures of what I could from there. With the number of people going in and out, I easily could have snuck into the cathedral, but I didn't want to be disrespectful. I managed to get a decent shot of the main nave from the doorway:
Next, I went into the gardens behind the cathedral, which were small but pretty. And what did I find there but an egg dancing atop a thin spout of water. This is a tradition that apparently comes from a Eastern myth that took hold in Catalonia. According to the myth, as long as the egg is dancing, the region will prosper. It must have some importance within the Church and local culture, because the small fountain that supported this spectacle was surrounded by large flower garlands and trellises.
Upon leaving the gardens and the dancing egg behind, I turned a corner to find a bridge running over the street between two buildings. Although I'm not sure what the structure's original purpose was, it reminded me of the Bridge of Sighs in Venice (although I hope it served a less sinister function).
Passing under the bridge and continuing for a couple more blocks, I came upon a plaza filled with people protesting Spain's solution to the financial crisis and budget deficits. From the little I know about it, the government plans to cut salaries of its workers in order to save money. While this is fine for the higher-ups who live a cushy life as it is, it doesn't bode so well for teachers, doctors, transportation workers, etc. Therefore, there have been protests like this all over the country.
Walking around a little more, I found the Plaza del Rey and the steps atop which the Catholic kings welcomed Cristobal Colón back from the Americas. (Random fact: when this happened, the Gothic cathedral was already 800 years old).
Wandering further in the direction of the sea, I passed into the Born area of Barcelona, which has even more funky character than the Gothic neighborhood. Its streets are just as narrow, but they house eccentric shops and restaurants, and plant boxes galore reside in upper-story balconies.
Here, I visited the Picasso Museum, which detailed the beginnings of Picasso's life and work, focusing on the time he spent in Barcelona. While it didn't house any of his most famous paintings, it was interesting to see the beginning of Picasso's painting, and how his original style was very different than that of his iconic Cubist works. He went through a few periods of experimentation with colors and quite a few moves between Spain and Paris before he delved into Cubism, which he finally did in the early 1900s. Picasso was also a sculptor/potter, and the museum had some of his ceramic works on display.
It's also in the Born part of the city that the church Santa Maria del Mar sits, and true to the character of the area, just in front of the church is a small plaza surrounded by ice cream and coffee shops where traveling artists put on performances. While I was there waiting for the church to reopen for afternoon visitation, a group of four guys came along with a hand drum and a berimbau (a Brazilian instrument resembling a bow) and did some acrobatics and capoeira. They were all good at what they did, and I can't imagine the impacts their feet must have felt on the stone floor of the plaza. I also found the advertising directly in front of the church to be somewhat ironic, especially considering my experience at the Gothic cathedral earlier in the day (although they weren't as strict at Santa Maria del Mar).
The interior of Santa Maria was beautiful, although not quite what I expected, for all the talk I heard about it. The church itself was pretty simple, and very similar to any other church of the time period. It did, however, have gorgeous stained glass windows, and their designs even strayed from the traditional biblical depictions (there were, for instance, windows dedicated to the sun and the moon). The rose window was the most intricate one in the church:
After Santa Maria del Mar, it was time to relax on the beach for a couple hours. Since I was there on my own I didn't get to swim much, but the girls next to me were nice enough to watch my bags while I went for a quick dip. Now I've swum in the Mediterranean!
That evening, I went with a few friends from my hostel back to the National Palace to see la Fuente Mágica (the Magic Fountain). It was a programmed show with lights and accompanying music. Against the backdrop of the palace and the city, it was pretty cool.
Whew. That takes me up to early Friday morning, when I got in a taxi to get on a bus to get on a plane to get on a bus to get to Gijón to visit Andrew! The view from the air was pretty cool: misty mountain and the Pyrenees.
I spent five days in and around Gijón, exploring the sights of Asturias. For the first day we didn't do much. Andrew met me at the bus station and we walked back to his flat while he gave me a bit of a scenic tour of the city. He and his flatmates really do live right in front of the beach. The view from their living room window is pretty nice:
Gijón is actually something like the fourth most populous city in Spain, but it doesn't feel like it when you walk around downtown. It feels smaller than Salamanca, but has far more people living within its boundaries (220,000 as opposed to 170,000). In the afternoon, we took it easy, made some food and then opted for a siesta on the beach. It was a cloudy day so the sun wasn't too hot, but the air was warm enough for swimsuits. After napping for a couple hours, we met up with some of his friends and played some American football (I would have rather played real football, but as it was, one of the guys had just gotten an American football and was consequently very excited to play with it). We played 3-on-3 for a couple of hours until dinner time, and then met back up on the beach later on in the evening to hang out. Andrew is the only guy from the U.S. studying in Gijón, and the rest of the people in his group of friends are from elsewhere in Europe, studying abroad through the Erasmus program. Everyone I met was really nice, and we all had fun together.
My second day there was an exploratory one...Andrew and I took a bus to a point about eight kilometers away from town and walked all the way back along various beaches and trails. It was another cloudy day, but again, not too cold, and the coast was beautiful (it lived up to its Spanish name, la Costa Verde).
After walking around all day, we went with a group of friends to another beach for a barbeque. This beach, Xago, was fairly big and had some good waves, so quite a few people were out surfing. We watched them into the evening, and then started up the grill and cooked and ate for a couple hours. Good food, good company, good fun.
The next day was also somewhat cloudy, so we opted for a day trip to Oviedo, which is 28 kilometers away from Gijón (for anyone who's seen "Vicki Cristina Barcelona", Oviedo is the place they go for the weekend). We hiked up Monte Naranco (all 600 some meters of it) and saw two ninth-century churches along the way, Santa María del Naranco and San Miguel de Lillo. Atop the monte is a large statue of Jesus which is pretty impressive, but since it was super windy up there, we didn't stay for long.
Once we came back down from Naranco, we wandered around Oviedo a bit. Andrew had been there many times before for classes and with friends, so he took me on a sort of tour around the old city center. We saw a statue tribute to Woody Allen (the director of Vicky Cristina Barcelona), as well as a bunch of other abstract statues. We also went to Oviedo's cathedral, although it was unfortunately closed because it was Sunday afternoon. However, the exterior of the building was beautiful.
Our next adventure took us to Cangas de Onís, a small mountain town that prides itself as being the gateway to the Parque Nacional Picos de Europa. Cangas reminded me quite a bit of Salida, in that it's a small mountainous river town that relies very heavily on tourism, but otherwise has a sleepy and relaxed ambience. There are two rivers that run through it...the Río Sella and the Río Güeña. The Sella was beautiful, with cristal clear turquoise water. As it ran underneath an old Roman bridge, I couldn't help but think of a scene out of the LOTR films...Rivendell, perhaps? Andrew and I explored the town for a bit and then decided to head up into the hills to see if we could find a lookout point about five kilometers away. The climb was relatively steep, and with the sun out, it made for some good exercise. We climbed all the way through Cangas until we reached the área recreativo above the city, and then continued on from there on a network of windy narrow dirt roads. Although we never reached the official lookout point, we did have some great views along the way, and wandered around numerous fields and pastures, just to see what we would find. We walked up the sort of spine of one of the hills, where we could see beautiful terrain on both sides of us. We could see the Río Sella slicing through a valley far below us, and the mountains that sloped upwards from the river were somewhat reminiscent of Andean lands.
In all of our adventuring around Asturias, Andrew and I always packed lunches to take with us, and that's how I stumbled upon this valuable fact: Asturian cheese is really good. The people make many different varieties, ranging from soft to hard, and using any combination of goat, cow, and sheep milk. And they all have a delicious strong flavor. Yum.
It was great to see Andrew again, but yesterday we parted ways and I arrived here, in Santiago de Compostela. I'll be here through tomorrow evening, at which point I'll hop on an overnight bus to San Sebastian, where I'll spend the weekend with a bunch of friends from CC. It's been rainy the whole time I've been here, so I haven't done as much as I would have liked thus far. However, the hostel I'm staying at is very cool, as are the people I've met here, so we've gone on short excursions together and spent quite a bit of time sitting around and talking. I also figured it was an opportune time to post an update here. For now, though, I'll leave it at this. This blog is already turning into an encyclopedia. Take care, be great.
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