Finally Home, eh??

Hey guys!! I’m back from Spain and as of now sitting in the Philadelphia airport. Let me tell you, the past couple of weeks have been pretty cool. The week after school ended, like I said, I just hung around the beach and took care of final traveling plans. My mom came on Friday and by that time I was uber-excited and frankly a little bored of sitting around Alicante by myself. When we arrived from the Alicante airport, I introduced my mom to my madre….yeah, it sounds confusing but it was very pleasant, and Paco, my padre, spoke to me more than he ever had in the 5 months I knew him! I know I’ve complained a lot about my madre but really she is a sweetheart and has treated me very well.

After we finished up there, we took the bus to our hotel—a rather annoying distance from the city. That night, we left at 10:30pm to eat dinner (a normal eating hour) and had a great, cheap, first meal with a very nice Brazilian waiter. Then at around 12:30 I brought my mom to meet all my friends who were really excited to see her because I had been talking about it for weeks. Thankfully, between Patricio and Javi, who were the only ones that could speak ANY English, they kept her company and I think she had a good time. ;) Saturday we slept in a bit and then went shopping in the little booths on the Esplanada (the cool mosaic pedestrian walk near the beach), sat on the beach a little bit, and hiked up (aka rode the elevator) to the castle on the mountain. We came back after freshening up for a nice dinner of authentic Spanish paella and a glass of wine. Then she went home and I went to my last night with the guys. I didn’t get to see everyone which bothers me because y’all know how I prefer to say goodbye, for closure purposes and all. The good thing is that I can keep in contact with them through Tuenti and see what they’re up to (or if you prefer the word “stalking” that’s probably a closer definition).
Sunday we traveled to Barcelona and walked around the famous Ramblas there. Here’s a quote from a guy in Alicante: “Do you know where Lizarran is?” Me: “Yeah, just around the corner on la Ramble” Guy: “Rambla? That’s in Barcelona!!” Me: “Yes, well, Alicante has a Rambla, too…” haha, just like every city has a Calle Reyes Catolicos, a Plaza Mayor, and an Ayuntamiento.

Anyway, the next day we went to Sagrada Familia, the masterpiece cathedral (as a opposed to Masterpiece Theater, bwahaha) by Gaudí. Oh man it was beautiful and intriguing. When I first saw pictures of it on the internet, I thought “Eww that is so gross!” because it looks weird on a first glance, but on some level it speaks to the complexity of life: it looks like a busy mess of sloppy drops of goo, but it is really made of intricate, religious symbols and art.

Afterwards we walked to Parc Guell and walked past 2 other houses of Gaudí’s handiwork, but I for one was hot and tired, and none of them interested me very much. Mom referred to me as the slave driver a few times because I was a little adamant about leaving places in good time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from travelling, especially with my family, is that if you lag behind to take pictures, you miss out on some other things. However my plan failed—we never made it to Montjuic because we like our siestas. Also, unfortunately, my mother is aging quickly (kidding!) and her feet didn’t allow her to walk an extended period of time. The following day we took a tour of the Catedral de Catalunya but it was nothing special, having been accustomed to grand cathedrals of Europe. Then we found the City Museum and had a tour of an underground archaeological site of Barcelona’s B.C. age where they paid taxes to urinate in urns on the street (maybe that’s where they got that name). Then we tried to go to the park and rent bikes but after a long struggle with maps and snotty Spaniards forcing me to speak English, we settled for a nice lunch and a siesta. After that, we toured the Picasso museum. The last punch to the phonic tour was “Picasso began his life painting like an adult and ended it painting like a child” which I thought was a nice summary of his artwork. Really his earlier work was quite impressive, and the difference in the styles of art made me want to look into why he preferred such a cubist style when he could paint fascinating portraits and landscapes! After that adventure, we took another shot at the bikes but the store was closed when we finally found it.

The next morning we got up early and took a train to Madrid! I’d say all in all, the only things I liked about Barcelona were the Sagrada Familia, Picasso, and the winning Barca futbol team! I found that the waiters and staff insisted on speaking English to me when I could clearly communicate just fine in Spanish—a problem I didn’t find anywhere else in Spain, and frankly I find insulting. In addition, everything was in Catalan—the Catalunya dialect, which obviously I can’t read! Oh, yeah, plus the internet café we went to made me want to tear my hair out. Ugh, I remember that place with an impassioned fury.

So in Madrid, we had about 24hours total to see everything, so we arrived at an adorable hostel, had wonderful kebabs for lunch, and went straight to the Prado. The entire trip we used Rick Steves’ Guide to Spain, always saying “Where is Rick?” “Let’s ask Rick where we should eat” “What does Rick say about this painting?” haha, so he was our male companion for a while. Anyway, we followed the tour outlined in the book to see the masterpieces of the Prado. Afterwards, I ushered my mom out of the museum so we had time to see the Botanical Gardens next door, go home to get freshened up, and go out again for tapas and a Flamenco show. The show was a combination of ballet and flamenco so it wasn’t completely authentic, but it was still a good impression of the Spanish flamenco culture and we both enjoyed it immensely. It helped taking that flamenco class even though it was super boring, because at least I got a taste of real flamenco. In the way of Spanish culture, I watched a couple of bullfights on TV and because I used to watch it sometimes with my padre, I could actually judge whether the bullfighter was amateur or not, based on his torero posture and confidence. I think that’s a good judgment of how much Spanish culture I was exposed to, eh? Anyway, that night in Madrid was the big futbol game—Manchester United vs. Barcelona and Barca won. Apparently the street that the flamenco show was on was the same place that had bonfires & riots only 2 hours after we were there. Haha!

The next morning, we got off a bit late and got the hop-on-hop-off tour bus. Let me tell you: not worth it except for the not-walking part, but it was the only way we could see a major part of the city (Plaza Mayor, Plaza del Sol, etc) without wasting time walking. Then we hopped on a train to Malaga where I got my Spanish dose for the day. The second half of the trip I struck up a conversation with an older couple about North Carolina tobacco and famous Andalucian foods to try. They mentioned chipirones, which are cooked baby pigs! And also quitapenas wine (literally means “get rid of the sorrow”), and fish on an espeto, which is pretty much skewered fish barbecued over a real fire on the beach.

We arrived that evening at Malaga and then a bus to Algarrobo-Costa. The actual village of Algarrobo is up the hill and the Costa is…obviously on the coast. I was under the impression that it is not a destination spot and was excited about the small town, all Spanish-speaking atmosphere, but when we arrived, I quickly found out it was….Little Germany. Everyone spoke German and there were no Spaniards except for the restaurant staff, but at least our apartment was comfortable. That night we ate dinner at an International Bar, where there was “Live Music Thursday” which consisted of a keyboard set on “Choir voices” and an old German guy singing cheesy American classics. It was horrible. If I wanted to go to Germany, I wouldn’t have stayed in Spain. As it is, I was suffering due to lack of Spaniards.

The next day we got up early to go to Ronda with a tour bus company. All my mom wanted to do was to have a conversation in English with someone other than me, and all I wanted was to speak in Spanish. She didn’t reach her goal; I did. That day, we went on a city tour with a guide that could barely speak English, but we were able to see beautiful views of the huge gorge, and go shopping a bit. At one tablecloth store, I mentioned to the clerk that I studied in Spain (studied, in past tense, oh dear!), and he immediately switched from English to Spanish which delighted me oh-so-much! My mom pulled me aside and said “Laura, I think he’ll bargain with me!” and I said “Go for it, Mom!” The tablecloth cost 15 Euros and Mom said “How about 14?” and the clerk said “OK!” and we laughed about it together in Spanish. Oh, Americans, we don’t know how to bargain well at all!

The guides only gave us 2 hours free time to eat & see the city, so at the end we were walking as fast as we could to get to the bus. We had to be there at 3:00, we got there at 3:02. Good, right?? Wrong. We were the last ones to get on. Seriously, I pondered aloud for a good 10 minutes at the fact that in the States I’m always on time, and compared to Spanish time, I’m always early…but with this bus of Germans, I was late!!! Nothing against Germans…but it just boggled my mind that we were 2 minutes late, yet the last ones. If you know me at all, you would know that the walk of shame down the aisle in front of 40 Germans was humiliating for me!

Haha, oh man. The next 2 days, we hung around for a nice weekend of sun and pool. The ocean was too cold and the beach too pebbly to spend any time there. Saturday I got my dose of Spanish (Mom still hadn’t had her English dose) when we met Maria, a waitress from Colombia. She absolutely hates it here in Spain and told me horrible stories about selfish Andalucians and her dislikes about Spain. I was sympathetic, but I couldn’t relate because for me, Spain is still enchanting! On Monday we went to Granada on our own, walked around the city, and spent the afternoon in the Alhambra. It was gorgeous, but unfortunately I didn’t have enough historic background to really get an understanding. Rick helped us out a lot though. We visited the very room in which Christopher Columbus brought the request to King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel to travel around the world. My Spanish dose of that day was a short conversation with the taxi driver about the weather, and luckily Mom got her English dose (or close to it) the night before with a German couple who only spoke a little bit of English!

The next morning we were scheduled to go to Sevilla with the tour company, but the bus never came to pick us up even after an hour at the bus stop. We found out later that it had been canceled….thanks for letting us know! We went to Nerja, a nearby town, and I enjoyed it so much more. First of all, there were a lot of British tourists for Mom, plus resident Spaniards for me. And it was bigger and much more interesting than Algarrobo-Costa!! We ate classic Spanish pinchos for dinner. They are meat combinations served on a slice of bread with a toothpick to keep it together and in the end they charge you for the amount of toothpicks on the plate. Between the two of us, my mom and I had 4 cups of coffee and 11 pinchos. Mmmmm

Wednesday we traveled back to good old Alicante where we stayed in a cheap little hotel (where Mom blew the fuse plugging in her phone charger with only U.S. voltage). I was in contact with some friends from chorus and that evening we met to give me a nice goodbye dinner. They were so sweet! They said “In the U.S. do you build snowmen and make snow angels at Christmas?? Do you go caroling in your neighborhood??” Haha, they were so curious and they want me to take pictures of my house and send it to them. Anyway, that’s the update. The next morning (today) we got up at 5am and traveled, to the airport, to Madrid, to Philadelphia, and 20 and a half hours later I am sitting here on the Philly runway, with the plane 12th in line to take off. My butt is numb once again, the first time being on the 9 hour overseas flight.

But let me tell you: I have never experienced culture shock so fast and so strong as when I got off the plane, went to Dunkin donuts for some coffee and suddenly realized that I couldn’t say “Café con leche” and automatically have my coffee exactly as I like it. I cried out “I want my Spanish espresso machine!!!” and my eyes filled with tears and I realized….I’m in the States. Yeah, we have iced tea and pork barbecue and English, but Spain has café con leche and paella and Spanish. But ya know, maybe it’s just because I’ve been up for almost 21 hours and had 4 hours of sleep last night that I feel like my world is crashing down around me. We’ll see how that goes.

So that is my trip to Spain! From beginning to end, I have told you all the important stuff. And I apologize: this is a travel blog and I meant it to be just straight, subjective facts and anecdotes, but I have added too many feelings to it, and too many irrelevant phrases. If you didn’t know me and care about me, I’m sure you wouldn’t even read it, so I’m sorry for not doing the traditional travel blog. I’m sure you don’t want to know all of my opinions and what I ate for lunch every day. Now if I could only get down south so I can finally have some sweet tea made right!!!!!!