catorceava parte

The last few days have been fun. Mom and I took the bus to Alhambra and waited in line forever for tickets. We started with the gardens, because our entrance time for the palace area was 12:30 and we had a while to wait. We walked around the Generalife and the gardens for a while, and they are really nice but not my kind of thing. They are very carefully kept, well-manicured and all that. A lot of thought and planning has gone into them, for a very long time, and it shows. After we had walked through and admired the gardens and the view,we looked at the Carlos V palace a bit and got in line again to see the Nasrid palaces. The third part of Alhambra, the Alcazar (old military city) is pretty interesting, but I remembered from my first visit that there is almost no shade and it is a lot of walking and stairs, so because it was getting very hot outside we skipped that part. There is a plaza accessible from there that has a fantastic view of the city of Granada, which I took pictures of the first time I was here. In the Nasrid palace, entry is very carefully controlled. Only a certain number of people are allowed in at a time, so people enter in lumps basically. We finally made it in and it was beautiful this time, as it had been before. Mom seemed to like it as well, but I think maybe the Versailles style of design is more her thing than this because she did not seem quite as impressed as I had felt initially. We were both getting very tired and very hungry toward the end of the route so we decided to eat something and rest for a bit at the hostel. We waited for the bus back downhill and then, while walking from Plaza Nueva to Oasis, saw Patrick and Joe on the street! We chatted for a while and it seems that naturally Joe and I gravitate towards each other for conversation. I think he is really interesting and I would like to get to know him better. They were headed off to do something with the band, and mom and I headed into a small shop for shwarma. We then rested up for a bit at the hostel, and I planned to meet Oscar between 7 and 8 for a drink. Around 7:40 I headed uphill toward la Calle del Beso, and Oscar was coming down the other way to take out the trash, so I turned and walked with him. We headed to the hostel for a bit and sat at the bar for a while, chatting with various people. Then we went out and just across Calle Elvira is where he parks his motorcycle. We were going for a ride! I had never ridden a motorcycle before so I was scared and excited. I sat behind him and we rode around the city for a bit and he showed me his university campus. By this time I was enjoying the ride immensely, and the roads of this northern neighborhood just past Albayzín were hilly and fun. We headed uphill, up up up, to the top of the mountain behind Sacromonte and Albayzín to a small plaza in front of a church. This was Plaza Miguel Alto (Oscar lives near Plaza Miguel Bajo, near the bottom of Albayzín) and the view was absolutely stunning. The entire city, from the farthest south to the north, was visible. I could see Parque García Lorca in the distance, a huge green swath. I could see the Parque de Ciencias, the Palacio del Congresso, and the newer parts of town we had driven through on our way to Sevilla and Córdoba. It was breathtaking. Just below us were some smaller houses with yards, ponies, and donkeys. They were playing and calling to each other and it was really a nice thing. Oscar and I sat on a low wall at the edge of the plaza, with our bare feet over the edge. We chilled and watched the sun make its way to the horizon. At some point Oscar leaned over and very softly planted one kiss on my shoulder. He has beautiful eyes. We watched el puesto del sol, the moment of the sun’s setting, and enjoyed the view for a while longer. Then we got our shoes and got back on the bike for a thrilling ride downhill. We stopped to see his friend Diego at his house and sat outside in the courtyard talking for a while. Diego had punched someone during a rowdy New Year’s Eve thing, and was talking about how his hand was just now finally healing. After a while Oscar and I headed out and parked the moto back near Calle Elvira, close to the tapas bar Beauty and the Beast. He bought us lemonade with hierbabuena at a small vendor and it was the best lemonade I have ever tasted–the mint was fresh and so delicious. We headed back to Oasis for a bit and talked with some people, mostly with Jess from the bar (she is half German, half American, and grew up in Germany mostly. She speaks French too, and quite a bit of Spanish). After a while the three of us headed up the hill toward where they live (Jess lives very near to Oscar) and she came with us to Calle del Beso. We hung out on the roof and drank beer and looked at the sky and talked about poetry and art and life and Oscar told us about the O*tron. Quite a bit later on a guy came up to the roof that I had seen playing guitar in the street earlier. Apparently he was thinking of moving into the house, and he and Oscar knew each other a bit. I don’t remember his name but a little while after he came Jess left to go sleep, and Oscar made pasta for the three of us. After we ate he said he had to sleep; he is very tired from the change in his schedule because of working overnight now. We went downstairs and talked at the door for a minute before saying goodbye. The next morning mom wanted us to get on the road to Barcelona because we were both worried we would not have enough time to see everything there we wanted to see. Mom and I headed out of town and drove through Valencia, wishing we had time to stay. We made it to a small town called Sagunto, which has impressive Roman ruins. The guidebooks only mention a Roman theater (which is still used as a theater today, albeit with quite a few upgrades) but there is a lot more to the ruins than the theater. Sagunto is also a beach town, and we had dinner there and found a hotel and went to sleep. The next morning we saw the theater and due to the incredible heat and humidity decided not to hike up the mountain to see the rest of the ruins. We got back on the road, headed for Figueres, about an hour and a half north of Barcelona, near the border with France. This is Dalí’s birthplace, and there is a museum there that he built and filled with some of his works. We got to Figueres and found a place to stay for the night. Then we found dinner and planned to go to the museum for its special August night hours, starting at 10. The museum is pretty amazing, but the downside is that it does not have some specific works which I wanted to see. It was a pretty big place and worth the visit. The next morning mom wanted to see it again, because for some reason she felt she had missed something the night before, so we went back through. We also saw a small gallery of incredible jewels designed by Dalí, including a heart of gold and rubies that actually beats. After leaving the museum we headed for Barcelona.

treceava parte

SOoooo behind (again)…wow. I am back in Granada now, after having been to Sevilla, Cádiz, Terifa, Tanger, Ronda, Málaga, and Nerja. Whew!
We left Granada and headed for Sevilla last Thursday(?). The Oasis there is very different from the one here! It is two buildings, one of which is just rooms and the other, with the pool/bar/reception/etc as well as rooms. I think it was recently remodeled; it felt almost nothing like the one here in Granada, but it was nice. We walked around the town a bit and we saw the Reales Alcazares and we tried to see the cathedral but it was closed when we went by. We went on the tapas tour but the group was so huge it was pretty hopeless…The next day we got up and went to Cádiz for the beach, which I had heard was worth seeing. Maybe we just missed it or something, but the beach we saw was not too spectacular. We lay out for a little while and then decided to head to Terifa. Honestly Terifa is a fun little place and mom and I both wish we had a few days there. We stopped at this beach on the way into town, not quite Terifa proper, and it turns out it is a total hippie heaven, windsurfer paradise. It was great, it would have been a lot of fun to spend a few days there hanging with chill people. We headed into Terifa later on and managed to find a room (very overpriced) in a hostel there. Wandering around for dinner, we saw this Terifa EcoCenter with a vegetarian restaurant! To me this is always a sign that there is something redeeming about a town, that an ecocenter is sustainable there. We also walked around the old part of the city near the port for the ferries and such, and there is quite a lot going on in that town. We slept there and got up Saturday morning to take the ferry across to Tanger. The ferry advertising says “Terifa to Tanger, 35 minutes!” which of course may be accurate in some sense, but all the hassle of waiting and buying tickets and waiting in line to get on the boat and etc etc makes it a two-hour ordeal, at least. Anyway, once across we got out of the port area into a plaza with a ridiculous number of Moroccan flags flying and restaurants lining the square. We managed not to get too harassed and found a place to sit and eat lunch. I had couscous and it was delicious. Then we decided to check out the chances of getting to Fes. We checked in the bus station, and the bus takes 6 hours. We finally flagged a cab to take us across town to the new train station, where we learned the train also takes 6 hours. The thing is, they say 6 hours, but then if anything else happens it could end up taking much longer, and if we only have a few days to spend in Morocco we don’t want to spend the whole time crammed into a hot train instead of seeing the place. We decided just to stay in Tanger, because that way at least we would get the chance to really get a feel for the place. We got another cab and after some difficulty managed to find this hotel Mom wanted to try to stay at. The cabbie had never heard of it, and a few times he pulled over to ask other cabbies about it and seemingly nobody had heard of it! Mom and I were having memories of our experience in Mexico last December, when a similar situation happened. It was a little strange this time though, because the hotel is within a block of the Grand Mosque in the Medina, on a well-known street, so why so much difficulty? We finally just asked him to drop us off nearby, and we would find it ourselves. The guy at the train station had been very friendly and warned us we should not pay more than about 10 dirham for the ride into the Medina. The meter read something near 8, but when we stopped to get out of the cab the driver cleared the meter (sneaky!) and demanded five euro. WTF? That was a ridiculous demand, and I would certainly have handled it differently from how Mom handled it, and I was very uncomfortable because my side door would not open and I could not get out of the cab. Finally she gave him some money and we got out, and soon found our hotel. We dropped our stuff off and went out walking around. We walked down on the street along the beach and ate crappy paninis in a cafe and got our feet wet in the incredibly warm Mediterranean and walked on the beach next to camels. The next day we had tea in a cafe in the square near the mosque, walked around the Kasbah and the oldest part of the city, went to a small art museum, got lost in the Medina (bound to happen, yeah?) and browsed through some shops. On our way to the ferry I saw Miguel and Claudia (cooks from the hostel in Granada, cool people) walking uphill towards the Medina. They were too far away to hear me, but it was a reminder that it’s a small world after all. Mom and I headed back over on the ferry and tried to figure out what we wanted to do next. I was set on a beach day for Monday, the next day, so we drove along the coast and up an hour or two to see Ronda, which has amazing old Roman ruins. We made our way back down to the coast afterward, got lost a bit in Málaga, and finally got to Nerja. We stayed the night in a (very expensive) hotel and ate dinner at an Indian restaurant. The next day we had the morning on the beach and by the pool, and the sun was so strong we decided against the whole day at the beach and started heading back to Granada. We checked in at the hostel (almost felt like coming home– I was so happy to see Francesco at the desk!) and relaxed a bit. In the bar we met this guy Patrick, from Louisiana, who is here in Spain traveling with his brother Joe, who is in a band. Turns out Joe has been living in Amsterdam for a few years, and he and 10 or more friends of his travel around playing music in squares and living like gypsies. We talked and drank together on the patio at Oasis, and ate the paella dinner at the hostel, and they invited us to see their show that night. I am really glad we went. I ran into Eric, Oscar’s flamenco-guitar playing roommate, in the street, and we chatted for a bit while the band did a mini-show at the intersection of Elvira and the street by Oasis with all the shops (what’s it called?). Then the band grabbed their gear, accordion, mandolin, violins, guitar, stand-up base, drums….and we headed uphill into Albayzín to Plaza Miguel Bajo, which they had heard from a friend would be a good place to play. While they were resting from the hike uphill, Patrick and Joe took Mom and I into this bar to try some Spanish liquor whose name I cannot remember (started with an a, I think). I was sweet and interesting, a little flavor of anise, among other things. Mom and I sat and drank beer while the band played and I wanted to dance, the music was so incredible, and when Mom wanted to leave I knew she would not be able to find her way back so I left a note for Joe and Patrick with my email address and we went back to Oasis. Oscar came in after a few minutes, apparently about to start working the graveyard shift in reception. He was clearly very glad to see me, which was nice. We chatted for a few minutes but he had work to do. Francesco, his friend Claudio, Miguel from the bar, and two Italian girls from the hostel (they had been on the nature tour last week…yikes, I haven’t mentioned that yet!) and I hung out in the bar and chilled, and Oscar joined us after a while because the desk was slow. We spent some time just chatting and relaxing, before the driving and beach shenanigans caught up with me and I went to pass out.

doceava parte

I just finished my last exam…hooray!
Mom got here yesterday. At the hostel I ran into Cristal, a really sweet Swiss girl, and she invited me to join a bunch of people headed to a hookah bar. I went with everyone and when I got there I saw that Amy was there too, which was pretty cool. We had a lot of fun, and after a while she and I left the bar together to come back to the hostel. She had some sangria in the fridge so we sat outside and talked and drank and it was great. After a while she was really tired (she had trekked around Alhambra in the afternoon, which would make anyone tired!) and she headed up to bed. This morning I went at 11:30 to take my last test, and mom and I went to the supermarket on our way back to the hostel. We are here for one more night and then headed to Sevilla, then Cadiz, then Morocco…..I am so excited! We will be back in Granada for two days or so afterward, but I hope I see some of the friends I’ve made here again.

undécima parte

I just realized I am a week behind! Oh my goodness. I went on a couple tapas tours with the hostel this past week, which were very fun. I was almost an unofficial guide, helping to translate (both language and culture) for some people and helping organize the tour and such. Tuesday afternoon we went to the Alhambra, but I think I will write about that separately when I see it again with my mom. I have been hanging out with Oscar and Francesco from the hostel (they work here) and they are totally amazing. Francesco is Italian, from a little town in northern Italy. We have a pretty cool connection (at least I think so) and he is really fun to be around. Oscar is a psychology major and he will be doing a masters program in Argentina next year. He wants to help those who need it; he seems like a totally incredible person. I definitely want to get to know them better.

Two nights ago Francesco led the tapas tour. We went to a few tapas bars and I was spending most of my time talking with him and Oscar. It was really fun. Oscar had to go home because there was some party at his house apparently, and we were sort of going to join him later if it was any fun. Franceso and I, along with his two roommates (Claudio and Miguel) and a couple people from the hostel, ended up at a dance bar on Elvira. We were having a lot of fun, and Francesco and I took turns buying drinks for each other. After that we all headed back to the hostel and Francesco and his roomies went on to their house. It was supposed to be my last night and I was saying goodbye to Claudio and Miguel, and then Francesco’s gaze met mine and I hated the thought of leaving the next day.

Perhaps fortunately, it turns out I cannot take my exam Friday as planned (I think this may be because there was a substitute professor that day and I can’t take the exam unless the regular prof is there?) so I have to stay until Monday to take it. This means I will have to try to figure out how to stay at the hostel cheaply (I was hoping to be able to work and earn my keep, but no such luck) and then buy a bus ticket to meet my mom somewhere. It also means I have three more days to enjoy the company of my new friends (and hopefully something interesting and amazing will transpire!).

Last night I went out with Oscar and two girls from the hostel, Marta and Amy (who had gone on the tapas tour the night before). We ended up going to Oscar’s house in Albayzín with an amazing view of the Alhambra…I am SO moving here. The house was built in the 16th century and I am totally in love with the whole thing. Oscar has a roommate who is an AMAZING guitar player and he played a song for us, but he was on the way out with some girls so that was all we heard. We took our beers up to the roof and watched the sky and the Alhambra and just talked. It was really enjoyable. Later on Marta and Amy were ready to go to bed, and Oscar and I went to this “funky dance party” at a cool little club across Gran Vía. The music was funky (haha) and the crowd was live, and I had a pretty okay time.

décima parte

Friday night I got almost no sleep. I think my brain was just working overtime! This after 30 minutes of sleep Thursday, and maybe a couple hours Wednesday…anyway, Saturday morning I managed to wake up somehow and grab my things to head to the bus at Centro Neptuno: beach weekend! We all met up and got on the bus and headed for Málaga. The bus ride was about two hours or so, maybe less, and when we got there we looked around the city a bit. We spent about an hour at the beach there and then got on the bus again to go to Nerja. I remember us finding the hotel and dropping our things off, and going for a bit of a walk. We found a plaza near a church and a long promenade area, with a mini-dancefloor or something at the end by the railings overlooking the sea. It was starting to get dark, and after a while it was difficult to tell where sea and sky met. We all milled around for a bit and at some point realized there would be a tango show in the square. Hillary and I had been talking and having fun, and found some pineapple sorbet to eat while we watched the show. This was the Anna Laura and Fernando show (something like that) and they had a fake-wood tarp-like thing spread out to dance on, a CD player hooked up to speakers, and a single light to illuminate the show. However, the dancing was pretty fantastic, even though they only did three dances. When the show was over we milled around with some others casually investigating the little shops and I convinced a few people to take their shoes off on the promontory dancefloor and we had fun there. Later on it ended up just being Hillary and I and we found bruschetta at this little place and had some tinto verano and then tried to find our way back to the hotel. Due to being stupidly weary earlier I only knew how to get to the area of the hotel, but not how to actually get to the hotel itself. We wandered around for about half an hour before finding someone to ask. Turns out the hotel was set back from the main roads and so we had not seen it, despite walking right by it several times. Odd.
I went upstairs and pretty much just tried to sleep, which worked at least a little bit as morning came on. I headed downstairs and checked my email on the hotel’s guest computer. I was excited to see that Kamin and Paul were keeping in touch, which put a good mood on my morning. Breakfast was croissants of various kinds, and juice which tasted almost like soda. Pretty soon we were all fed and packed up–we were to take our things to the bus, minus what we wanted for the beach, where we would be for most of the day.
Finally we were at the beach. We walked down a narrow path near absolutely gorgeous flowers, and made it to the sand. We all camped out at a farther end of the beach, which was pretty crowded. I set my stuff down and spread out the towel I rented from the hostel for 1€. Then I immediately ran and got into the ocean. The beach is rocky and not so much smooth sand like I am more used to, so my feet got a bit of a workout! The water was COLD and it felt absolutely amazing. I went back to my towel and lay in the sun. At some point a bit later on a few of the boys decided to start digging a big hole. Turns out they wanted to bury Fasil, Evan, and Jay up to the neck in the sand, so I helped dig the hole. We had a lot of fun making them into a three-headed monster and getting odd looks from strangers.

novena parte

Wow…..so much to tell! Friday morning I made tea and went to class. Afterward I came back to the hostel and heard someone playing guitar on the swinging bench below my window. I went downstairs to sit in the kitchen and listen, and it turns out it was Paul playing. We started chatting and I got him to play me a song he wrote (no lyrics, just beautiful finger chords) and we talked for quite a while. He is French Lebanese, and has been living in Montréal for three years studying at McGill. He is headed for Paris for a few days before he goes to Lebanon for something like a month to be with family, and then will be returning to Paris in the fall to begin a masters. Later we went upstairs to the roof to sit with a bunch of other people (Alex, Wesley, Jacob, Kamin…) and he played a little more and we all just enjoyed each others’ company. I decided that the fun I was having was far more interesting than a lecture on commands in Spanish, so I skipped class. Kamin and I decided we should go for tapas, even though it was still pretty early, and I finally managed to convince Paul to come with us (and bring his guitar). We walked around comfortably, and Paul played here and there, and tapas places did not seem to be open yet. We went into a market and bought a carton of pineapple juice and some nectarines and continued on our way. Eventually we came back to the hostel and hung out for a little while, before deciding to try again because we were all pretty hungry. We hit up a few places and finally just relaxed at one place and had a great conversation. While Kamin was getting our next round from the bar, as Paul and I were talking, our hands kinda brushed on the table and it was one of those delightful moments. Anyway after the tapas we decided we should get some wine and go up to the top of Albayzín to watch the sunset. We went back to the hostel because Paul had to catch an 11:30 bus to Barcelona (a 13-hour ride) and needed to shower and pack first. While he was doing this Kamin and I went down the road and bought two bottles of wine. We went back and got Paul and started the hike up the mountain. Kamin was moving much faster than us, as he had changed out of his flipflops into “real” shoes. I really like the fact that he never allows his leg to be a problem for him or slow him down. We finally got to Plaza San Nicolas, overlooking the Alhambra, and we realized that, as we had feared, we had missed the sunset. However, the way the clouds were, we were pretty sure it was not a spectacular sunset anyway and we could still enjoy the view and the darkening sky. We sat down next to a couple of drunken wanderers with a guitar, and heard some music. When a spot on the wall at the edge of the plaza opened up we went and sat down to finish the wine. I sat in between the two of them and we talked and watched the sky and each enjoyed the presence of the others. After a while we knew we had to leave to get Paul to the bus on time. We grabbed his things from the hostel and walked him to the bus stop on Grand Vía. As the three of us walked Paul and I started to hang back just a little, and when our hands brushed we held on to each other for a moment under the streetlights. We caught up to Kamin at the bus stop and waited the four short minutes for the number 3. When we saw it Paul looked at me, and when he got on the bus Kamin and I walked away. I felt happy.

octava parte

Yesterday was awesome. I woke up early to pack up my things and move out of the Huertas’ house into a hostel. I was planning to look for a phone book of some kind to call a cab, but Migue was sleeping on the couch next to the phone in the living room, so I decided to just start walking with my things and hail a cab on the road. I loaded everything up and headed out. Usually it takes about 15 minutes to get to Palacio de Congreso; it took about 45 minutes with all my stuff in the early morning heat. I finally saw a taxi and snagged it, and soon was dropped off in a narrow alley a few streets from the hostel (the street the hostel is on is not accessible by car because it’s too narrow). I hiked up the street and went into the hostel, where I learned that check-in does not begin until noon. I set my stuff in a nook by the stairwell and just killed some time until class. After class I ran into Hillary and Johanna on the street and we did a little tour of the Moroccan and Indian shops in my new neighborhood, and Hillary said she was going to a club in Sacromonte that night with some people and I should meet them around midnight. Then I went to check in and get somewhat settled in my new room. The woman at the desk told me I am in room 5, bed 8. I set my stuff down and then headed to a small restaurant for falafel and hibiscus tea before class. I took my time and enjoyed my meal, and then went to class, which ended up getting out early. This was good because I had to meet the group at the courthouse plaza to do a walking tour of Albayzín. I had enjoyed the time I’d spent in the neighborhood before so I was going with the high school group this time. I met up with everyone and we took a bus to the back, top part of the hilly neighborhood. The walk was nice, and I got some cool pictures. Afterwards we all went to a small teahouse and had delicious minty tea. When we all split up I went back to the hostel (it was close to 9:30) and dropped off my school bag. I was just in time to join the tapas tour organized by the hostel. There were maybe 20 of us, all in late teens or twenties by the looks of things. There was another Jane, from Australia, and I talked with an English girl named Annaleise too. We went to the first bar and it was packed, but the bartender was so sweet trying to find something I could eat! Finally I ended up with a plate of (delicious) salted almonds. Soon we headed off to go to a second bar. This place was about a 15 minute walk, and I think our group was a little smaller when we arrived. The bar had a menu so you could order the tapa you wanted , and I had some Italian vegetable concoction with a glass of tinto verano. Several people were planning to head to Sacromonte to see a flamenco show, and this guy Kamin said he new of a good place. We all headed that way, joking around and having fun. I mainly talked with Kamin on the way, and we connected in a way. He is Australian originally, and does environmental tours for a living (of rainforests, outbacks, etc). He is now a traveller: he has been on the road for four years, traveling all over the place. He is pretty interesting. He had seen a great flamenco show the night before, and we were hoping to catch the same kind of thing again. We walked around Sacromonte near the area with lots of flamenco bars, but the neighborhood seemed so quiet! Finally Kamin saw the proprietor of the place he’d been the night before, and the man said “sure yeah we’re open.” We went in and some people had beers, and we waited for a little while. The old man brought out a guitar and just sort of handed it to Wesley, one of the hostel guys (he’s from Portland) and he managed to play a RHCP song and a few bars of something else. Somehow someone got the idea that I can actually play the guitar, so I proved them wrong by playing the few chords I know and soon got the chance to give the old man his guitar back. He played a wicked awesome flamenco tune, it was incredible to watch, and then promptly got up and left the room with something of a disgusted expression. Apparently someone was supposed to come in about 20 minutes to dance, so we joked around and just talked while we waited. I talked to Alex, from Germany, and Jacob, another Australian (lots of Aussies in the hostel!) After a while it seemed like nothing was actually going to happen, so we decided to go to this club called Camboria a few streets away. When we got there there were maybe 5 people there, and lousy canned club music on the speakers, and expensive beer, and an asshole bartender. However, the club itself was really nice and the huge patio had a perfect view of the illuminated Alhambra. We sat outside and just talked for a long time. Kamin told me about these wicked scars he has: when he was 7 he was crocodile hunting with his dad and he was bitten on the right leg. His knee is messed up and his calf is basically half gone. It is gruesome. He has a sizeable patch on his left arm where they took a skin graft for much of his foot, and a scar on the side of his stomach from where they took bone. It is really impressive, to be honest. He moves so well you would never guess he had something like that to contend with. Finally we had all decided to leave for another place when a dj showed up and the music was at least somewhat danceable. Right about that time about half the high school group showed up and we all chatted for a while. We all danced a little and laughed at Wesley because he is the WORST dancer in the world. Seriously. All over the place, no apparent rhythm, yet awesome to watch. Later on Kamin and I were walking back to Hostal Oasis. About a block or so from the club we took our shoes off and danced in the street for a while, and I walked barefoot the rest of the way. When we got to Plaza Santa Ana, near Plaza Nueva, we danced some more. We had two stray dogs as friends and companions now. The plaza has smooth stone quadrants outlined in marble, and is very smooth and a little slick: the perfect dancefloor. It was amazing: dancing barefoot under a full moon outside a cathedral in Spain. After a while we started heading back the last few blocks to the hostel. We sat outside for a while but did not want to disturb the neighbors (everyone sleeps with their windows open) so we went inside, planning to continue talking in the lounge area. There turned out to be people sleeping on the couches, so we headed up to the terrace on the roof. It was pretty cold by then so we both got sweatshirts. There was someone else sleeping out on the roof and we laughed about the fact that people are just randomly sleeping all over the place. We sat on a loungechair to wait for sunrise. Sadly, east was behind us, and behind the mountains, so we did not see the most spectacular part of the sunrise. Pretty soon the swallows were sweeping the lightened sky and I decided to try to sleep just a little before class. I saw that there were several people in the room and I just lay down in my dress and covered up with a blanket. I dozed off a bit, but did not sleep much. Breakfast noises woke me around 10 and I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and changed clothes. I headed downstairs for breakfast, and chatted with Kelly and Annaleise from the night before. I also met and drank tea with a beautiful Frenchman named Paul.  It was a good morning!

séptima parte

Basically, Spain is freakin’ amazing. I am having a blast, getting a funny tan from wearing t-shirts in the sun all day and biking in skirts. This next weekend at the beaches in Málaga and Nerja should clear that up (hopefully). I am getting confused in my language classes because things that are subjunctive in Spanish are not always the same things that are subjunctive in French…ARRGH

I am really missing being able to make what I want to eat. My family’s idea of a salad is some pieces of iceberg lettuce with tomato slices on a plate, drowned in olive oil and vinegar and doused in salt. Okay, not doused, but definitely more-than-liberally sprinkled. I am also eating a lot of potatoes and pasta and sadly not enough protein (very few whole grains, no dark greens…) Basically I get the same meals as the rest of the family, minus the animal part. Lunch today was salad (see above) and a plate of french fries and a fried egg. Granted, the french fries were homemade (I saw the potatoes in the sink) but still, that was my lunch.

Last Sunday we went to Sevilla, and it was beautiful. The bus ride was two and a half hours and I had to pee almost the entire way. We got to Sevilla and saw beautiful mosaic tiles in a plaza, walked through a gorgeous park, saw the cathedral, walked by an old building that looked like a palace (but actually used to be a tobacco factory–fanciest factory ever. It is university offices now.)… We saw a building whose architect drew heavily from the Alhambra here in Granada, and more gardens… Of course I took lots of pictures, but I can’t upload any of them until I get home because my camera card does not fit into the computers here.

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sexta parte

I will write just a little about my Saturday trip to Córdoba. The bus we were to take was leaving at 8am sharp, so I had to leave the house at 7:15 to be sure I got there on time. I waited in the small plaza on a bench and ate I think some soy yogurt for breakfast. Some other people started to show up, and then Maricarmen (the excursion leader) came up and we went to the bus. Tia, a girl I talked with when we went to walk around Albayzín, was there, and we sat together and talked a little. The movement of the bus made everyone a little sleepy, though, and the scenery at times looked a lot like parts of the American southwest (except for the olive trees, of course). There were fields of sunflowers, too, like in West Texas, and they were beautiful.

We got to Córdoba a little less than two hours later, and we drove through town to these ruins that have been partially restored. We got out of the bus into the scorching Andalucían sun, and took a walk through some of the ruins (Medina Azahara), which used to be a city center over one thousand years ago. It was basically the capital city area for the conquering Muslims who ruled Al-Andalus. The main restored part, the salón rico, is enclosed and cool and shady, and has gorgeous engravings on the walls. The motif is generally the tree of life, which is one of my favorite concepts, particularly the way the Maya viewed it. (When you bury a person, you include a seed which will grow into a tree, taking the person’s body into itself. Then the person grows with the tree, and when birds eat the seeds, one can fly. It is a beautiful concept.)

Next we went to the main old part of town, the medina. We walked a bit and then went into the famous mosque (Mezquita de Córdoba). This was a temple first, and then a Christian cathedral was built literally inside, before it became a mosque. After the Spanish Reconquista it was turned back into a church. The building is absolutely incredible. It is huge and spacious; the interior had many double archways supporting the structure of the building. These arches were striped in different colors: white was stone, for support, alternating with red clay, which can take more expansion with heat and thus protect the structural integrity of the arch. There is a central dome with the most beautiful, intricate mosaics of lapis lazuli and other stones, and an intricate Quranic inscription painted in gold.

After this, we had some free time for lunch and to wander the immediate area, so Tia and I sat in a cafe and I ate the lunch I had brought with me. We walked around a little but it was so hot, we headed for some shade and waited until 3, when Maricarmen would give us a mini-tour of the old Jewish quarter.

She led us around these tiny cobbled streets, and we went to this synagogue that was built in the 14th century. It was basically a small room with high ceilings. The whole thing was gray stone, with some old Hebrew carvings still somewhat visible. Not much to look at, but to think of the Jews living there while the area alternately was dominated by Christians and Muslims…pretty intense.

We headed back for the bus and we were all so tired from the walking and the sun that almost everyone slept on the way back. I couldn’t sleep, so I listened to music and watched the scenery and felt peaceful.

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quinta parte

The other day I walked around the Albayzín (Arab quarter) which has lots of super-steep hills and old buildings. It’s really beautiful! There are laws I think about new construction in the area (I think it’s forbidden, actually) because it is so historic. That part of the town has been there since 400BC. Then when the Romans came the built another city just across the river, and called it Garnata (or something similar). When eventually the Moors invaded and conquered, the whole area (the older Arab part and the newer Roman part) became one town.

The next day we walked to Sacromonte (another hilly old Arab neighborhood near Albayzín) and along all these tiny cobbled streets, hilly and windy. Lots of the houses are built into the sides of hills and they are called cuevas (caves). We went into one that had copper pots and pans all over the walls and ceiling, and tons of pictures of famous flamenco dancers all over the place. Flamenco is a huge part of the southern Spanish (Andalucían) culture, and we saw a show which was pretty cool. Riding my bike home at like 11 or something after the show was nice, because it finally was under 38 degrees celsius (about 100F, but dry not humid) and there was nobody on the road to get in my way. Refreshing. =] Thursday night we took a mini-lesson in flamenco and I realized that while it may not look like THAT much work there is a lot more that goes into than initially meets the eye.

Friday morning I slept through four alarms and two jackhammers and missed my first two classes. ¡Ay caramba!

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