Catch-up

Old naval tower in Sevilla 

After our picnic in Plaza de España, Sevilla

Generalife, Granada

A random sampling of the architecture at the Alhambra

View from the Alhambra

View of the Alc

I know, you’re probably all cursing the heavens that I have an update about not one but two weekends, but what can I say? With only 3 days in between our return from Madrid and departure for Andalucia (not to mention a mother load of work to do before leaving), updating the blog about Madrid wasn’t really an option. But I’ll give you the bare-bones account of our Madrid experience:

We can say now that we’ve figured out the Madrid metro!!! And it isn’t at all hard, although, once you’re in a station, it can be hard to find the direction you want to go in, since you have to go down a labyrinth of hallways and sets of stairs, sometimes going through another train’s stop and other times going up and over another train, just to arrive at your destination. I know, it sounds bad, but the trains themselves are not at all complicated. We successfully made our way to the hostel, and the moment we walked in, I thought that, after having planned more trips than I can count this year, I had finally gotten it handed to me. The hostel consisted of a guy sitting behind a desk with a computer, so I was thinking, ‘Oh God, what have I gotten us in to? This is not at all legit.’ We also discovered that we were sharing a room with guys, which was absolutely fine, but I think we both would have liked a little bit of warning! The hostel was really centrally located, which was perfect, other than the fact that the street noise at night was ridiculous (and rather unfortunate for poor Miss Molly, who came down with a nasty cold/cough toward the end of last week and didn’t sleep much that first night). Saturday was filled with lots and lots of walking- to Plaza Mayor, the Palacio Real, the Thyssen Gallery and the Prado. It was a lot of fun to see all of those Madrid landmarks, but the best part was just getting a chance to talk to Lauren.

On the Madrid trip, Molly and I both rebelled against Spanish food, because we realized that all we eat in Salamanca is Spanish food- ethnic restaurants are really slim pickings. So for dinner on Friday, we went out for delicious Indian food (after having seen Slumdog Millionaire, which is an absolutely fantastic movie- so clearly, we had an Indian-themed night!). For lunch on Saturday, we got Thai food, and then this weekend, we got Moroccan in Granada. So it turns out that I like lots of different kinds of food, I just have to get tired enough of the kinds of food I’m eating to get in the mood for something else. Something else we’ve gotten really good at is making picnics for ourselves: both in Madrid and Andalucia, we went to the grocery store in Corte Inglés (our new favorite department store) and stocked up on bread, cheese, jam, and fruit, and then plop down somewhere for a feast of sorts.

Sunday was probably the highlight of Madrid for me, because we got to go to the Rastro, a HUGE open-air flea market! You’ll recall that I became something of a flea market hoar last semester, so obviously I was in heaven! I got some cute gifts, as well as a gorgeous Indian silk scarf for myself. Our last stop in Madrid was the Parque de Buen Retiro, which was incredible- a huge park with a man-made lake in the middle, and madrileños from all walks of life frolicking in the park on a Sunday afternoon. If I lived in Madrid, I would probably spend the majority of my time at Retiro!

After having had just three days’ worth of Salamanca time (and LOTS of homework the finish off!), Molly and I were on the road again, this time to Andalucia, the region in the very south of Spain that boasts cities like Sevilla, Granada and Córdoba. I had been to all three of those cities (even though we only covered Sevilla and Granada on this particular trip), and had some major moments of déjà vu at random spots along the way. It was really strange; the first time I noticed it was last weekend, when I was standing in Sol, the most important of Madrid's plazas after Plaza Mayor. I looked over at one spot, the wall of a particular building, and remembered standing in that exact same spot with my friends Cole and Jill three years ago during our Suffield spring break trip. I remember it because, as I was standing there, a bird pooped on my jacket, so this time, I just looked over at that spot and laughed. When we were in Sevilla this weekend, we walked by a particular restaurant and I said to Molly, "This is where my friends and I had pizza for lunch when we were here." I remembered, as we stood in Carlos V's palace (which is shaped like a circular theater and is a part of the Alhambra complex in Granada), that Mrs. Wiggin, one of our teachers and main chaperone for the Suffield trip, stood in the center and sang to us, because, given the building's shape, the acoustics were perfect for singing. On the bus ride back from Granada yesterday, our bus stopped at the EXACT same rest stop, and it was as if I was just there. It's amazing how much my mind retained of the little details of three years ago.

So we got in to Sevilla at 2 am on Thursday (we had a surprise long weekend, so I was able to scramble at the end of the previous week and threw together a trip so that we could leave on Wednesday), and were relieved to find that our hostel did, indeed, have a 24-hour reception. After a few hours of sleep, we explored the Jewish Quarter, Barrio Santa Cruz, with its abundance of stark whitewashed buildings, orange trees (the oranges there are too bitter to eat, though), and "kissing lanes", walkways between buildings that are so narrow that the temperature is a few degrees cooler (and, presumably, so narrow that you could kiss someone in the house across the street), perfect for oppressive Sevillian summer days. That brings me to another quick segue: the weather in Andalucia was GORGEOUS!!!! I was walking around in shorts, skirts, short sleeves and sandals all weekend, and was essentially in heaven. Anyway, after poking around that precious little barrio, we went to the Alcázar, an old Muslim palace (for those of you who don't know, Andalucia, and, more specifically, Granada, was the last Muslim stronghold in Spain). The Alcázar boasts gorgeous tile work, extensive gardens laden with palm trees, gorgeous Arabic carvings on traditional Middle Eastern-type doorways (rounded, with a point at the top), and the seamless integration of water features, both inside and outside the palace (I feel like I should be on HGTV for saying all of that!!!). As we walked along, Molly read, as usual, from Rick Steve's handy Spain guidebook, which has turned into a sort of Bible. When I want to know the background of some site, I ask her what Rick Steve has to say about it, and she cheerfully pulls it out of her bag, humoring me with Steve's at-times sarcastic descriptions of the cities we're wandering through. I may tease her about her attachment to the book, because it has been a lifesaver (for the most part- he did mention one museum, the house of some distinguished lady, that turned out to be the most boring museum I've ever gone to).

Given that we could do whatever we wanted with our time, we went and got an early lunch (because, to our utter delight, we weren't required to be home for comida at 2:30). We opted for something light at a little sidewalk café, and ordered a liter of sangria to drink leisurely along with our lunch. Well, not only were we ripped off (we paid 15€ for a liter), but it was also the strongest sangria I've ever had- to the point where it got both of us sloshed, Molly after three glasses and me after two. How embarrassing- we were tipsy at 1 o'clock in the afternoon! We decided that climbing to the top of the Cathedral would be a great way to get some exercise and sober up a little bit. So we started the climb (which turned out to be in the form of an incline, instead of stairs, as we had been expecting). Everything was going more or less fine until about the 20th side of the square, when a group of particularly rowdy and annoying schoolchildren were rushing at us. I was so focused on not running into them (because God knows they weren't making any room for me), that, in my state of nearly nonexistent motor skills, I tripped on a lip in the floor and went flying headfirst into a brick wall. Molly saw it happen, and, after an Advil taken at the top of the tower to ward off a headache, we had a good laugh about it. My pride was certainly injured more than my body, although I still do have a tender spot on my hairline. When we made our way back down to ground level, we rested for a little bit, before breaking through the nearly impenetrable line of old gypsy women offering us rosemary sprigs (we knew, seasoned travelers that we are, that their trick is to prey on unsuspecting tourists and offer them a rosemary sprig, read their palms, and then demand 5 euros). After stopping at Corte Inglés for picnic supplies, and being asked by a random old cab driver on the street if I was French, which made me happier than you will ever know, we grabbed coffee (Molly) and tea (me) and walked to Plaza de España, easily the most beautiful plaza I've ever seen. Scenes from Lawrence of Arabia and Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones were filmed there, and it proved to be a perfect, picturesque spot for our picnic dinner and a few minutes of relaxation after having walked around all day.

Then came the highlight of my Sevillian experience (and, I would venture to guess, Molly's). We went to our first flamenco show, at a place that the New York Times called the best place in the world to watch a flamenco show. And it didn't disappoint. The complexity of movement of the dancers and the ability of the singers to keep a perfect beat is incredible, and it is truly an experience of all of the senses. I was absolutely blown away by the singers', dancers' and guitar players' enviable talent.

On Friday, after a little bit more walking around, we boarded our bus for Granada. Out of all of our hostels, the one in Granada has been one of the best- the ambience was amazing, and structurally, it was a gorgeous building. To get to it, our cab drove through a street lined with Middle Eastern shops and tea houses, to the point where I thought I was in Morocco. Sadly, I don't think we'll be able to make it to Morocco in April as we had originally planned, because it will really be getting down to academic crunch time at that point and we need all the time we can get to do homework, but I felt like I got a little taste of it in Granada. We woke up early on Saturday morning, because Celia (our program coordinator, who is from Granada) told us that her brother, who works at a hotel that is a part of the Alhambra complex, could get us entrance tickets for 10 that morning and that we should be at the hotel by 9. Well, we showed up and there was no Carlos. Not only was he not working, but, according to his coworkers, there were no tickets. We were really pissed. Celia called later to tell us how sorry she was, that Carlos had thought that we wanted tickets for Sunday. So it wasn't really her fault, but we still had to wait in line for tickets, and couldn't get them until the 2:30 entrance time. So we walked back down to the city and then back up another hill to a church called San Nicolás, which has a viewing area with incredible views of the Alhambra itself. Then, we did a little bit of souvenir shopping for friends and saw the Cathedral before heading back up to the Alhambra.

Of course, the Alhambra was well worth the trouble we went through to get tickets. The Alhambra is the palace of the former Moorish leaders of Granada, and, although I had been there before, it didn't cease to blow me away. The architectural precision and detail is out of this world, and it is one of the most beautiful complexes I've ever seen. Not to mention that it has the best panoramic view of Granada below. It is just breathtakingly beautiful, and brilliantly showcases Spain's Muslim past. Within the complex is the Alhambra itself (the palace), the gardens, a fort, and the Generalife, which is another home of sorts. So it took us about 2 1/2 hours to get through the entire thing. When we were finished, we went back into town and found a little tea house to sit in, which was really cute. Then we dodged some raindrops and went back to our hostel, where we showered and relaxed for a couple of hours. We had seen what looked like a really cute Moroccan place on our way back, so we had a delicious couscous and vegetable dinner there. We went to a couple of bars and got drinks (I tried my first mojito, which was really good!), and then hit the sack to prepare for a long day of traveling.

And long it was. You know the feeling when you want to disapparate and apparate in another place seconds later, like in Harry Potter? Well that's what yesterday felt like. We had to take a bus from Granada to Madrid (because, apparently, all roads lead to Madrid and we can't avoid traveling through it), and then another from Madrid to Salamanca. By the time we boarded our second bus, the wheels were really starting to fall off. We were both tired and whiny, and I sensed I was getting whatever cold Molly had last weekend in Madrid (which turned out to be true). So we stumbled off the bus in Salamanca in complete shambles, and, after getting some work done, talking to my family, and posting pictures on Facebook (of course!), I got some sleep.

This week promises to be an exciting one. For one, today is my last day of being 20 years old, and even though 21 doesn't mean a thing here, I'm still excited. Tomorrow, I think we're going to go out to dinner, and then the actual partying part of my birthday will happen on Friday night (mostly because both Molly and I have a 9am class on Wednesday, and plus, I need to give myself time to recover from this cold!). And tomorrow, Molly and I have decided to break Lent and get a birthday cake from our favorite French pastry place. So basically, we'll just sit around eating cake while we're not in class. It's going to be excellent. Also, this is probably the week that Tim is going to hear from Georgetown, and I'm crossing my fingers more than you can imagine. So far, he's only gotten one waitlist letter (and the rest are acceptances), so I'm very proud of him, but I would love it if he could be a Hoya too so I could share the most amazing school in the world with him. So if you're reading this, I would really appreciate it if you could say a little prayer for him!!! I know how happy he would be if he got in, so I've had my phone by my side nonstop, waiting for the call (whatever the outcome may be).

As always, I'm sending all of you my love,

Kristen