I´m so happy here living in Spain that it´s depressing. It´s like being desperately thirsty and watching someone pour your last water bottle out onto a desert of Spanish. I´m so happy that thinking about the fact that we´re approaching the halfway point makes me really sad. I wish I could have more time here because I´m doing a lot of traveling, so most of my weekends will be spent outside of Santander. Last night was the last weekend I will spend here for a few weeks. Ah, that´s depressing.
So last week, everyone did something crazy. And guess what? I got a tattoo. It says "vuelvan," which means "come back." It´s on my right shoulder blade and it hurt like a bitch. It´s a bit awkward because it´s conjugated in a form that the Spaniards don´t typically use (it´s more of a latin american thing), so a lot of people think it´s spelled wrong at first. I´ll be glad to see some Mexicans who understand it without me having to explain it. Even though it´s a bit tiresome to explain it, I love my new tattoo. It was designed by the girl at the tattoo shop (who was really cool), so it´s nice knowing that no one else can have the same font as me. And also, even if I regret it later on (because who doesn´t) it will still be a cool story to say "Yes, this is the tattoo I got when I was a crazy college student living in Spain." You´re only young and stupid once. Well, you´re only young once.
Two other girls on the trip got tattoos, and a couple others got piercings, and I won´t tell you where. I think it was just a bucket list kind of thing, because once one person thought of the idea to get a tattoo, suddenly a whole group of us wanted something done. It was a bit disappointing because my camera was dead and I didn´t get any pictures of my tattoo actually being done, but then I thought, "No, I don´t have pictures of my tattoo, but I have the tattoo." The tattoo is a picture in and of itself.
Anyway, I guess I´m rambling again. I just wanted to update and talk about my new tattoo and my last weekend in Santander, because I´m going to Dublin next weekend, then Salamanca the next weekend, and then Paris. And then i only have a weekend or two more before I go to Italy and then after that it´s Madrid and then after THAT it´s Wilmington!!! How the time flies. Okay, until next time vosotros.
"El mundo es un libro, y ellos que no viajan leen solo una pagina."
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
I´ve been here for a month!
Okay, more than a month. I got here on the fifth of Febrero, and I think today is the 8th, but it might be the 9th. I´m really not sure. The days run together when you have as much fun as I have.
A ver, what was my last update? It had to have been about a 2 weeks ago, because I went to the Guggenheim a couple Saturdays and I know I haven´t written about it yet.
So Saturday (not last saturday, Saturday the 27th) we went to Bilbao. We met outside the nautical engineering school, which is right by the bay about a 15 minute walk from my piso (new vocab word-piso=apartment, or "flat" if you want to sound british). We took an hourish bus ride to the industrial (aka ugly) city of Bilbao. We had a tour of the Basque museum, which was unbelievably boring. Our tour guide didn´t do a fantastic job. She stopped at every piece and talked in Spanish (at least she wasn´t speaking in Basque...) for about 15 or 20 minutes. That amount of talking is difficult to follow in any language. After the Basque museum, we were given about an hour and a half to eat or shop or walk around and explore the city. It was a rainy day and I was feeling sick, so I didn´t take advantage of exploring like I probably should have, but that´s alright.
After our descanso, we went to see the Guggenheim, which was really cool. There were 3 floors. The first was all the modern art, which bores me. The second was an exhibit called "Haunted," which was my favorite simply because I enjoy all the really dark and abnormal stuff. Then the third floor was more boring classic works, all from the WWI era.
Afterward, we dragged our tired selves home to Santander.
That week we started our second set of classes. Monday was our first day: Grammar began at 10am. Our class was separated once again into the yellow and orange groups. My class is taught by a man named Manolo (I hope that´s how you spell it...), who reminds me a lot of Gonzalo, whom I´ve mentioned in previous entries. If you´re just now joining me and have no idea who Gonzalo is, or if you just don´t remember, I´ll tell you that he´s the craziest teacher I´ve ever had. He´s extremely hands on and clearly believes that the stranger the method of teaching, the easier it is to remember concepts. Manolo clearly got his teaching certification from the same school. When I say crazy, I mean things like throwing pieces of chalk at words written on the board when he refers to them, singing and playing air guitar, and then making us act out his random stories and then write them down to practice grammar. This guy is COOL. After grammar, we have a short break and then History.
I don´t think I should tell you much about my history class, in the best interest of my blood pressure. My professor is just about THE most condescending fuck I´ve ever met. And the fact that my sickness had progressed and rendered me voiceless made me even more frustrated. He clearly mistook my lack of response for lack of understanding. Let me explain. He was telling us the structure of the class, and said "No hay examen." He repeated himself 3 or 4 times, then said (in spanish), "You all aren´t responding the way I thought you would," (so clearly that means we didn´t catch a word of "no hay examen," even though a retarded english speaking chimp would understand that) so this douchebag wrote "No exam" on the board IN ENGLISH. IN ENGISH, PEOPLE. How condescending is that? And then he had us read a paragraph from the text book, and then asked "¿Quien quiere resumir?" Now, I respect that for those of you who don´t understand spanish, this would be hard, and I don´t mean to condescend. But these are words we learned within the first few weeks of Spanish 1 back when I was 14 years old. I know what "¿Quién quiere resumir?" means, I just can´t respond because I don´t have a voice. Then this asshole says, a LOT slower, "¿Quién...who...quiere...who wants...resumir...to sum up? Who wants to sum up?" He´s done this several times. I consider myself a very laid back person. It takes a lot to anger me. The one thing guaranteed to get under my skin, however, is to talk to me like I´m stupid. There´s nothing I hate more. But, I´m a rational human being, so anything that upsets me, I will try to take something away from. So here is today´s travel tip:
Travel Tip #11:
When you´re learning a new language, be patient. You won´t get it right away. Listen to the native speakers around you, and when you hear a new phrase, ask about it. Then remember it. Then try to use it yourself organically in another conversation with another person. And when you´re with a group of people trying to learn a new language, you need to be 10 times more patient. Everyone is at a different level. Remember that yes, there are people who understand less than you do, but there are also people who understand more.
And because it´s been so long since my last update, I´ll throw in another:
Travel Tip #12:
It´s probably a good idea to NOT storm out of your class, even if your professor condescends to translate the word "communidad" for you. (But seriously, communidad?! COMMUNIDAD?!?? Who couldn´t possibly figure that out??)
Alright, enough ranting. So those are our Mondays and Wednesdays. We´re out of class by 1:45 and home para la comida at 2:15, give or take. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, we go to class at 10 for Literatura, with our adorable professor Carmen. She´s petite, dresses really well, has the cutest little haircut, and also has that sexy librarian glasses thing going on. I have to say that class with her was a bit of a wake up call for me. Grammar is my thing and I´ve been taking Spanish grammar classes for 7 years, so that was no problem. Then I had Mr. History Professor talk to me like I was a child for 2 hours, so when I took a real class in Spanish, I was surprised at how difficult it was. There isn´t a big difference between a Spanish Grammar class taught in english and one taught in Spanish, but there is a chasm of difference between a Grammar class taught in Spanish and one about a new subject. I can follow mostly what Carmen says, but she has to speak con mucho espácio, which means really slowly. It´s definitely a challenge, but the good kind of challenge. Not the euphemistic kind of challange that people say about things that they know they will fail at.
After Literature, we have Art. Our professor is very hands off and laid back, which is to say "kinda boring," but I enjoy it none the less. Mostly because it´s basically a review of History, because he´s beginning with cave art in Altamira. Our homework for tonight was to draw a map of the mediterranean and all the bordering countries. Yeah. Our homework for the first night of grammar was to "go out and start a conversation with a stranger." Really cool. For the second night it was "to be happy," and for our next class it´s "to have fun." Vive España.
We don´t usually have class on Fridays, and this past weekend we had Monday off. We have 3 long weekends during our semester to allow time for travel. This weekend a group of us decided to go to Barcelona. There were 10 of us going, which I think was the largest group going anywhere. I know a group of 5 or 6 went to Rome and a small group traveled around northern Spain. But anyway, back to me. Our flight was at 12 something, and because none of us really knew how to get to the airport, we decided to meet at 10am so we could all figure it out together. We met, walked to the bus station, and took a bus to the airport. No problems thus far. The santander airport is the smallest thing I´ve ever seen. People who have seen ILM-I tell you, SDN is smaller. Yes, somehow, the Santander airport is that small. So we had no problems finding the gate. Mostly because there was only one gate. We got in line really early because we´ve heard horror stories about how RyanAir overbooks flights and if you aren´t in line and don´t get on the flight, they say "tough luck." So you better believe we were among the first 30 people in line. The flight wasn´t the worst thing ever, but I´ll tell you this: RyanAir gives a whole new meaning to "commercial flights." Because they´re so cheap, they have commercials like you wouldn´t believe. I mean, how much stuff can you sell on a flight? Anyway, we landed and found a taxi AND the hostel without problems. So far, so good.
The hostel was really nice. There were 10 of us, but because of circumstance, we had to split up 8 in one room and 2 in another. The 8 of us were together in a 10 person room, and our 2 other roommates ended up being from Texas-fancy that. They were really nice and joined us for a lot of the sight seeing. The girl was living in Paris teaching English to French students. And her friend was simply visiting her while she had 2 weeks off, and they were traveling about Spain. We put our stuff down and found our way to the metro and from there found our way to Park Güell, where you can climb a giant mountain, where there stands a really steep plateau with a frighteningly small diameter that had a cross on top. Me and my travelmate Chris wanted to go up there and got to see an AMAZING view of Barcelona. I got some incredible pictures, including one panoramic one that stitched together quite nicely. You should go on facebook and check it out if you haven´t already. At the bottom of the hill was some amazing Gaudí architecture as well as a gift shop where I discovered some post cards. So if you´re cool, you should be expecting one in a few weeks.
That night we went on a pub crawl organized by the hostel staff. But shhh, that´s a secret, since aparently they´re illegal here in Spain (clearly not THAT illegal). We each gave them 5€ and they gave us a shot of really gross liquor and took us to a club that we couldn´t get into. Yes, I used the term "organized" very loosely. Since we couldn´t get into that club, we went to another, where we did receive one complementary drink, but the ones you had to pay for were unbelievably pricey. I´ve become spoiled in Santander, where the bars are about a 50 meter walk away from my piso, and the drinks are 1€ each. Speaking of drinking and walking to bars, I´m going to give you another (yes-another!) travel tip:
Travel Tip #13:
Do NOT drink too much while in an unfamiliar city, especially one that doesn´t speak either of the two languages you do understand. You need to be coherent for when you need to get home, because it can be difficult even when you are sober.
For my parents´ peace of mind (though I don´t even think they love me enough to read all this), I´ll include that we got home perfectly safely. Though it was difficult, we got back to the hostel around 3:30am. I stayed up and hung out with the people around the hostel until about 7am, which sounds crazy, but I admit that I love the hostel experience. It´s like a homeless shelter for successful people. You come and live with a bunch of strangers and all you have in common is that you need a place to stay. Really-you find all kinds of different people, from all different walks of life. I met a really interesting Argentinian who worked the front desk. We talked for a long while about his visits to the US and he showed me a lot of the photos he took. He was really into photography. The next night I talked with a Welsh guy (I think he was Welsh...maybe I should just say British) who was traveling around Europe for 3 weeks by himself. It´s amazing some people have the balls to do that. It was fun to impress him with my Spanish. My roommate and I (from the hostel...the girl who taught english in paris, remember?) had fun speaking to him in our respective second languages. Then we also made friends with an Australian guy...crap, I forget his name...oh well, not important. And also a group of 3 Canadians. It´s always an amazing time because I always learn something new. It´s like how grown ups always used to say that the more you learn, the more you realize how little you know. There´s an entire world of infinite wisdom out there, and even though I know that I could never conquer it, I´ll be damned if I don´t try.
The second day, despite going to bed at 7am, I woke up around 10am and we were out of the hostel by 11:30 to sight see. We went and saw first Las Ramblas, which is a mostly pedestrian street a mile long, with famously good shopping and food.
Side note-This is the point when my iPod got stolen. We were on our way there on the metro, and it was really crowded. I was carrying a purse with a flap that had a latch on it, and of course it was closed and latched. When we got off the metro, I noticed it was open. Shucks. I checked inside and what do I find? Not an iPod, that´s what. I was about 98% sure I had brought it with me, but I decided to not give up hope until we returned to the hostel and made sure I hadn´t left it there. But when we got back that day, it was nowhere to be found.
However, we chose the worst restaurant ever for lunch. I´m not a huge fan of dining experiences here in Spain, but sometimes you find yourself in situations where you have to eat outside the home, like when you´re all the way across the country from your madre. Anyway, after that, we didn´t really walk around Las Ramblas much, but instead went to see Catedral de Barcelona. Keep this in mind before I explain my thoughts on cathedrals: Catedral de Barcelona is considered one of the lesser impressive ones in Europe. Again, Pictures are up on facebook for you to see. I find it the most humbling experience to see these cathedrals. It´s an entire work of art, cleverly disguised as a building. Everywhere you look, every inch is art. It´s absolutely unfathomable.
After Catedral, we went to go see Gaudí´s La Sagrada Família, which is another cathedral in Barcelona. This church, along with the rest of Gaudí´s work, is like something out of a dream. The designs that man came up with just blow my mind. The stain glass windows were so perfectly placed that the sun shone through them at amazing angles and created the illusion of dozens of colored lights lighting up the space, but no-simply the sun shining through. The lift to the roof was closed, which was depressing, but I´m still glad I got to see the church.
After that, we went to the McDonald´s across the street. Yes, you read that correctly. It was kind of a novelty, I suppose.
After eating, we dragged our exhausted bodies not back to the hostel, but to Las Ramblas yet again. At this point it was starting to get dark, so we made our way to CarreFour, which is a supermarket chain here in Spain (I made a rhyme). We bought a few boxes of wine to share between the 6 or 7 of us (A few of us didn´t come or went elsewhere). Here in Spain, a box of wine (55 cents) costs less than a bottle of water (70 cents). And in the states, they give you 750 mL, where as here en España, they give you an entire liter. Yeap. That´s how us Spaniards do it.
Las Ramblas was PACKED for Carnaval. It was really, really fun. Lots of people dressed up, street vendors (I had a good conversation with one-in spanish!-who was selling his paintings), and living statues. We also got to see a few of the cars drive past who were preparing for the parade. After a long time of walking around, we decided to go find the parade, which ended up being only a street or two over. This was also crazy, I think that neither my describing it nor my photos on FB could do it justice. Lots of costumes, loud music, and crazy dancing.
Around 10:30, we went back to the hostel. I decided to stay in, since I´d gotten about 8 hours of sleep in the past 2 days. It was fun all the same; hanging out with the hostel staff and all the extranjeros (foreigners). Even though it was a "take it easy" night for me, I still went to bed around 2am. It´s strange that 2am is going to bed "early" for me now.
Well, maybe not that strange.
The next morning we were up around 8:30 to get an early start on the day. A cup of café con leche and we were out the door. We went to the Picasso museum, which was free on Sundays. It was interesting and I learned a lot about Picasso that I didn´t know before. Although, it would be strange if I learned a lot about Picasso that I did know before...anyway, that was fun. We met the American boy who was standing in line behind us. I think he was from Florida..or something. He was going to school in France, and now he´s traveling around and working on farms. Sounds like something my boyfriend should do so that we can be together on my international travels...hmm...
After the Picasso musuem, we walked around quite a bit, just looking at the very european-looking streets and shopping (there´s a large amount of hand-made jewelry in Barcelona for some reason). Eventually, we made our way to the beach, where we ate at a great seafood place. I had my first paella experience, which was heavenly. Then we walked down to the shore, where it was so crowded with tons of people because it was such a beautiful day. We walked around for a while, got hit on by strange spanish men, and I even got to stick my feet in the water!! So now I can say I have touched the Mediterranean.
After the beach, we walked past the Olympic Park and then ate a Kabob (this is like the Spanish equivalent of Cook Out) and then some Helado (the spanish word for Gelato, Italian ice cream). Lots of Spanish comida. After that we mosied back to our hostel, where we met up with the rest of the group. A few of us went out to purchase pasta and makings for our Jersey Shore dinner. We call it Jersey Shore dinner because, aparently (I can´t say for sure, because I´ve never watched the Jersey Shore), the group of 18-24 year olds go out and do crazy things all weekend, but always come home to make Sunday dinner at the end of their wild weekend. The same went for us, claro. So we made a makeshift pasta in the hostel kitchen, all of us together. I don´t know if any of us went out, but a lot of us decided to stay in. I know it sounds lame to just hang around the hostel, but it was fun either way. It goes back to what I said about meeting people in hostels, there´s never a dull moment.
The next day we had to get ourselves up bright an early to pack and get ready to be picked up by taxis at 8:30 and be taken to the airport. We said goodbye to our beloved hostel staff and were on our way.
So what did I think of Barcelona? I liked it...for a weekend. Of course, it was wild and I had an amazing weekend. But my conclusion is, I would never want to live there. It´s too big, and I´m little and easily intimidated. Also, there are wayyyy too many english speakers there. And also, I´m not a fan of Catalán. It looks really similar to Spanish, so you try to read it, and you´re four or five words in when you think to yourself, "why am I not understanding any of this?" And then you realize, oh, that´s because it´s not spanish. I began to realize how attached I´ve gotten to my lovely city of Santander when I actively missed it on Saturday. When I was really tired, all I wanted to do was return to my bed. And I never felt more at home than when we arrived back in Santander on Monday morning.
Point is, I´m glad to be back. Sorry I haven´t updated in a while. I won´t have much to update for a week or so, but there is a lot coming up in the next month. This weekend, I stay in Santander (yay!). Next weekend, a group of us are going to Dublin for St. Patrick´s day, which I´m told is going to be crazy. The weekend after that, we take a class trip (all of us from carolina del norte) to Salamanca. And THEN after that, a group of us go to Paris. So I´ll try and keep updating at least once a week, and definitely be sure to look for pictures.
Tis all for now! (I say that like I haven´t been writing for 2 hours...)
"El mundo es un libro y ellos que no viajan leen solo una pagina."
A ver, what was my last update? It had to have been about a 2 weeks ago, because I went to the Guggenheim a couple Saturdays and I know I haven´t written about it yet.
So Saturday (not last saturday, Saturday the 27th) we went to Bilbao. We met outside the nautical engineering school, which is right by the bay about a 15 minute walk from my piso (new vocab word-piso=apartment, or "flat" if you want to sound british). We took an hourish bus ride to the industrial (aka ugly) city of Bilbao. We had a tour of the Basque museum, which was unbelievably boring. Our tour guide didn´t do a fantastic job. She stopped at every piece and talked in Spanish (at least she wasn´t speaking in Basque...) for about 15 or 20 minutes. That amount of talking is difficult to follow in any language. After the Basque museum, we were given about an hour and a half to eat or shop or walk around and explore the city. It was a rainy day and I was feeling sick, so I didn´t take advantage of exploring like I probably should have, but that´s alright.
After our descanso, we went to see the Guggenheim, which was really cool. There were 3 floors. The first was all the modern art, which bores me. The second was an exhibit called "Haunted," which was my favorite simply because I enjoy all the really dark and abnormal stuff. Then the third floor was more boring classic works, all from the WWI era.
Afterward, we dragged our tired selves home to Santander.
That week we started our second set of classes. Monday was our first day: Grammar began at 10am. Our class was separated once again into the yellow and orange groups. My class is taught by a man named Manolo (I hope that´s how you spell it...), who reminds me a lot of Gonzalo, whom I´ve mentioned in previous entries. If you´re just now joining me and have no idea who Gonzalo is, or if you just don´t remember, I´ll tell you that he´s the craziest teacher I´ve ever had. He´s extremely hands on and clearly believes that the stranger the method of teaching, the easier it is to remember concepts. Manolo clearly got his teaching certification from the same school. When I say crazy, I mean things like throwing pieces of chalk at words written on the board when he refers to them, singing and playing air guitar, and then making us act out his random stories and then write them down to practice grammar. This guy is COOL. After grammar, we have a short break and then History.
I don´t think I should tell you much about my history class, in the best interest of my blood pressure. My professor is just about THE most condescending fuck I´ve ever met. And the fact that my sickness had progressed and rendered me voiceless made me even more frustrated. He clearly mistook my lack of response for lack of understanding. Let me explain. He was telling us the structure of the class, and said "No hay examen." He repeated himself 3 or 4 times, then said (in spanish), "You all aren´t responding the way I thought you would," (so clearly that means we didn´t catch a word of "no hay examen," even though a retarded english speaking chimp would understand that) so this douchebag wrote "No exam" on the board IN ENGLISH. IN ENGISH, PEOPLE. How condescending is that? And then he had us read a paragraph from the text book, and then asked "¿Quien quiere resumir?" Now, I respect that for those of you who don´t understand spanish, this would be hard, and I don´t mean to condescend. But these are words we learned within the first few weeks of Spanish 1 back when I was 14 years old. I know what "¿Quién quiere resumir?" means, I just can´t respond because I don´t have a voice. Then this asshole says, a LOT slower, "¿Quién...who...quiere...who wants...resumir...to sum up? Who wants to sum up?" He´s done this several times. I consider myself a very laid back person. It takes a lot to anger me. The one thing guaranteed to get under my skin, however, is to talk to me like I´m stupid. There´s nothing I hate more. But, I´m a rational human being, so anything that upsets me, I will try to take something away from. So here is today´s travel tip:
Travel Tip #11:
When you´re learning a new language, be patient. You won´t get it right away. Listen to the native speakers around you, and when you hear a new phrase, ask about it. Then remember it. Then try to use it yourself organically in another conversation with another person. And when you´re with a group of people trying to learn a new language, you need to be 10 times more patient. Everyone is at a different level. Remember that yes, there are people who understand less than you do, but there are also people who understand more.
And because it´s been so long since my last update, I´ll throw in another:
Travel Tip #12:
It´s probably a good idea to NOT storm out of your class, even if your professor condescends to translate the word "communidad" for you. (But seriously, communidad?! COMMUNIDAD?!?? Who couldn´t possibly figure that out??)
Alright, enough ranting. So those are our Mondays and Wednesdays. We´re out of class by 1:45 and home para la comida at 2:15, give or take. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, we go to class at 10 for Literatura, with our adorable professor Carmen. She´s petite, dresses really well, has the cutest little haircut, and also has that sexy librarian glasses thing going on. I have to say that class with her was a bit of a wake up call for me. Grammar is my thing and I´ve been taking Spanish grammar classes for 7 years, so that was no problem. Then I had Mr. History Professor talk to me like I was a child for 2 hours, so when I took a real class in Spanish, I was surprised at how difficult it was. There isn´t a big difference between a Spanish Grammar class taught in english and one taught in Spanish, but there is a chasm of difference between a Grammar class taught in Spanish and one about a new subject. I can follow mostly what Carmen says, but she has to speak con mucho espácio, which means really slowly. It´s definitely a challenge, but the good kind of challenge. Not the euphemistic kind of challange that people say about things that they know they will fail at.
After Literature, we have Art. Our professor is very hands off and laid back, which is to say "kinda boring," but I enjoy it none the less. Mostly because it´s basically a review of History, because he´s beginning with cave art in Altamira. Our homework for tonight was to draw a map of the mediterranean and all the bordering countries. Yeah. Our homework for the first night of grammar was to "go out and start a conversation with a stranger." Really cool. For the second night it was "to be happy," and for our next class it´s "to have fun." Vive España.
We don´t usually have class on Fridays, and this past weekend we had Monday off. We have 3 long weekends during our semester to allow time for travel. This weekend a group of us decided to go to Barcelona. There were 10 of us going, which I think was the largest group going anywhere. I know a group of 5 or 6 went to Rome and a small group traveled around northern Spain. But anyway, back to me. Our flight was at 12 something, and because none of us really knew how to get to the airport, we decided to meet at 10am so we could all figure it out together. We met, walked to the bus station, and took a bus to the airport. No problems thus far. The santander airport is the smallest thing I´ve ever seen. People who have seen ILM-I tell you, SDN is smaller. Yes, somehow, the Santander airport is that small. So we had no problems finding the gate. Mostly because there was only one gate. We got in line really early because we´ve heard horror stories about how RyanAir overbooks flights and if you aren´t in line and don´t get on the flight, they say "tough luck." So you better believe we were among the first 30 people in line. The flight wasn´t the worst thing ever, but I´ll tell you this: RyanAir gives a whole new meaning to "commercial flights." Because they´re so cheap, they have commercials like you wouldn´t believe. I mean, how much stuff can you sell on a flight? Anyway, we landed and found a taxi AND the hostel without problems. So far, so good.
The hostel was really nice. There were 10 of us, but because of circumstance, we had to split up 8 in one room and 2 in another. The 8 of us were together in a 10 person room, and our 2 other roommates ended up being from Texas-fancy that. They were really nice and joined us for a lot of the sight seeing. The girl was living in Paris teaching English to French students. And her friend was simply visiting her while she had 2 weeks off, and they were traveling about Spain. We put our stuff down and found our way to the metro and from there found our way to Park Güell, where you can climb a giant mountain, where there stands a really steep plateau with a frighteningly small diameter that had a cross on top. Me and my travelmate Chris wanted to go up there and got to see an AMAZING view of Barcelona. I got some incredible pictures, including one panoramic one that stitched together quite nicely. You should go on facebook and check it out if you haven´t already. At the bottom of the hill was some amazing Gaudí architecture as well as a gift shop where I discovered some post cards. So if you´re cool, you should be expecting one in a few weeks.
That night we went on a pub crawl organized by the hostel staff. But shhh, that´s a secret, since aparently they´re illegal here in Spain (clearly not THAT illegal). We each gave them 5€ and they gave us a shot of really gross liquor and took us to a club that we couldn´t get into. Yes, I used the term "organized" very loosely. Since we couldn´t get into that club, we went to another, where we did receive one complementary drink, but the ones you had to pay for were unbelievably pricey. I´ve become spoiled in Santander, where the bars are about a 50 meter walk away from my piso, and the drinks are 1€ each. Speaking of drinking and walking to bars, I´m going to give you another (yes-another!) travel tip:
Travel Tip #13:
Do NOT drink too much while in an unfamiliar city, especially one that doesn´t speak either of the two languages you do understand. You need to be coherent for when you need to get home, because it can be difficult even when you are sober.
For my parents´ peace of mind (though I don´t even think they love me enough to read all this), I´ll include that we got home perfectly safely. Though it was difficult, we got back to the hostel around 3:30am. I stayed up and hung out with the people around the hostel until about 7am, which sounds crazy, but I admit that I love the hostel experience. It´s like a homeless shelter for successful people. You come and live with a bunch of strangers and all you have in common is that you need a place to stay. Really-you find all kinds of different people, from all different walks of life. I met a really interesting Argentinian who worked the front desk. We talked for a long while about his visits to the US and he showed me a lot of the photos he took. He was really into photography. The next night I talked with a Welsh guy (I think he was Welsh...maybe I should just say British) who was traveling around Europe for 3 weeks by himself. It´s amazing some people have the balls to do that. It was fun to impress him with my Spanish. My roommate and I (from the hostel...the girl who taught english in paris, remember?) had fun speaking to him in our respective second languages. Then we also made friends with an Australian guy...crap, I forget his name...oh well, not important. And also a group of 3 Canadians. It´s always an amazing time because I always learn something new. It´s like how grown ups always used to say that the more you learn, the more you realize how little you know. There´s an entire world of infinite wisdom out there, and even though I know that I could never conquer it, I´ll be damned if I don´t try.
The second day, despite going to bed at 7am, I woke up around 10am and we were out of the hostel by 11:30 to sight see. We went and saw first Las Ramblas, which is a mostly pedestrian street a mile long, with famously good shopping and food.
Side note-This is the point when my iPod got stolen. We were on our way there on the metro, and it was really crowded. I was carrying a purse with a flap that had a latch on it, and of course it was closed and latched. When we got off the metro, I noticed it was open. Shucks. I checked inside and what do I find? Not an iPod, that´s what. I was about 98% sure I had brought it with me, but I decided to not give up hope until we returned to the hostel and made sure I hadn´t left it there. But when we got back that day, it was nowhere to be found.
However, we chose the worst restaurant ever for lunch. I´m not a huge fan of dining experiences here in Spain, but sometimes you find yourself in situations where you have to eat outside the home, like when you´re all the way across the country from your madre. Anyway, after that, we didn´t really walk around Las Ramblas much, but instead went to see Catedral de Barcelona. Keep this in mind before I explain my thoughts on cathedrals: Catedral de Barcelona is considered one of the lesser impressive ones in Europe. Again, Pictures are up on facebook for you to see. I find it the most humbling experience to see these cathedrals. It´s an entire work of art, cleverly disguised as a building. Everywhere you look, every inch is art. It´s absolutely unfathomable.
After Catedral, we went to go see Gaudí´s La Sagrada Família, which is another cathedral in Barcelona. This church, along with the rest of Gaudí´s work, is like something out of a dream. The designs that man came up with just blow my mind. The stain glass windows were so perfectly placed that the sun shone through them at amazing angles and created the illusion of dozens of colored lights lighting up the space, but no-simply the sun shining through. The lift to the roof was closed, which was depressing, but I´m still glad I got to see the church.
After that, we went to the McDonald´s across the street. Yes, you read that correctly. It was kind of a novelty, I suppose.
After eating, we dragged our exhausted bodies not back to the hostel, but to Las Ramblas yet again. At this point it was starting to get dark, so we made our way to CarreFour, which is a supermarket chain here in Spain (I made a rhyme). We bought a few boxes of wine to share between the 6 or 7 of us (A few of us didn´t come or went elsewhere). Here in Spain, a box of wine (55 cents) costs less than a bottle of water (70 cents). And in the states, they give you 750 mL, where as here en España, they give you an entire liter. Yeap. That´s how us Spaniards do it.
Las Ramblas was PACKED for Carnaval. It was really, really fun. Lots of people dressed up, street vendors (I had a good conversation with one-in spanish!-who was selling his paintings), and living statues. We also got to see a few of the cars drive past who were preparing for the parade. After a long time of walking around, we decided to go find the parade, which ended up being only a street or two over. This was also crazy, I think that neither my describing it nor my photos on FB could do it justice. Lots of costumes, loud music, and crazy dancing.
Around 10:30, we went back to the hostel. I decided to stay in, since I´d gotten about 8 hours of sleep in the past 2 days. It was fun all the same; hanging out with the hostel staff and all the extranjeros (foreigners). Even though it was a "take it easy" night for me, I still went to bed around 2am. It´s strange that 2am is going to bed "early" for me now.
Well, maybe not that strange.
The next morning we were up around 8:30 to get an early start on the day. A cup of café con leche and we were out the door. We went to the Picasso museum, which was free on Sundays. It was interesting and I learned a lot about Picasso that I didn´t know before. Although, it would be strange if I learned a lot about Picasso that I did know before...anyway, that was fun. We met the American boy who was standing in line behind us. I think he was from Florida..or something. He was going to school in France, and now he´s traveling around and working on farms. Sounds like something my boyfriend should do so that we can be together on my international travels...hmm...
After the Picasso musuem, we walked around quite a bit, just looking at the very european-looking streets and shopping (there´s a large amount of hand-made jewelry in Barcelona for some reason). Eventually, we made our way to the beach, where we ate at a great seafood place. I had my first paella experience, which was heavenly. Then we walked down to the shore, where it was so crowded with tons of people because it was such a beautiful day. We walked around for a while, got hit on by strange spanish men, and I even got to stick my feet in the water!! So now I can say I have touched the Mediterranean.
After the beach, we walked past the Olympic Park and then ate a Kabob (this is like the Spanish equivalent of Cook Out) and then some Helado (the spanish word for Gelato, Italian ice cream). Lots of Spanish comida. After that we mosied back to our hostel, where we met up with the rest of the group. A few of us went out to purchase pasta and makings for our Jersey Shore dinner. We call it Jersey Shore dinner because, aparently (I can´t say for sure, because I´ve never watched the Jersey Shore), the group of 18-24 year olds go out and do crazy things all weekend, but always come home to make Sunday dinner at the end of their wild weekend. The same went for us, claro. So we made a makeshift pasta in the hostel kitchen, all of us together. I don´t know if any of us went out, but a lot of us decided to stay in. I know it sounds lame to just hang around the hostel, but it was fun either way. It goes back to what I said about meeting people in hostels, there´s never a dull moment.
The next day we had to get ourselves up bright an early to pack and get ready to be picked up by taxis at 8:30 and be taken to the airport. We said goodbye to our beloved hostel staff and were on our way.
So what did I think of Barcelona? I liked it...for a weekend. Of course, it was wild and I had an amazing weekend. But my conclusion is, I would never want to live there. It´s too big, and I´m little and easily intimidated. Also, there are wayyyy too many english speakers there. And also, I´m not a fan of Catalán. It looks really similar to Spanish, so you try to read it, and you´re four or five words in when you think to yourself, "why am I not understanding any of this?" And then you realize, oh, that´s because it´s not spanish. I began to realize how attached I´ve gotten to my lovely city of Santander when I actively missed it on Saturday. When I was really tired, all I wanted to do was return to my bed. And I never felt more at home than when we arrived back in Santander on Monday morning.
Point is, I´m glad to be back. Sorry I haven´t updated in a while. I won´t have much to update for a week or so, but there is a lot coming up in the next month. This weekend, I stay in Santander (yay!). Next weekend, a group of us are going to Dublin for St. Patrick´s day, which I´m told is going to be crazy. The weekend after that, we take a class trip (all of us from carolina del norte) to Salamanca. And THEN after that, a group of us go to Paris. So I´ll try and keep updating at least once a week, and definitely be sure to look for pictures.
Tis all for now! (I say that like I haven´t been writing for 2 hours...)
"El mundo es un libro y ellos que no viajan leen solo una pagina."
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