Paris

Que verguenza. No really, I am so ashamed. It is December 27, and I haven't written in over a month. To be fair, it has been a whirlwind, what with all the traveling, final exams, and packing. So now let me take you far, FAR into the past to November.

Every API (my study abroad program) program has one international excursion, and this semester's was Paris (next semester's is Morocco, woo-hoo!). I was actually surprised we went at all, because the week before we were supposed to go, the US State Dept. released a statement saying that Americans traveling abroad in Europe should be extra cautious of terrorism, especially in Paris. Then on top of that, they were having major demonstrations against raising the retirement age. Oh, don't worry, I'll get to my opinion of that.

And here comes a confession, try not to grab your pitchfork. I'm not the biggest fan in the world of Paris. Not that I dislike it, not even near to that. But for some reason, I don't feel the same pull that has been attracting artists, architects, musicians, or tourists for centuries. I mean, the Hilton's loved Paris enough to name their sniveling little daughter after it. What's wrong with me? Am I immune? I can see the charm it has, but in my opinion, you can't truly enjoy Paris unless you have a lot of money to blow. Something students don't happen to have a lot of. And here comes the final doozy, try not to faint.... I don't see the big deal with the Eiffel Tower. I know, I'm crazy. But really, it's just an oversized, glorified radio tower. It's all iron and metal, and it's really not old (1889). Maybe it's because I'm a history major, but I find things that are old and beautiful attractions. Which Paris has plenty of!

The rest of the API group went on a tourbus to take a highlights tour of Paris, which, no disrespect, to me seems like walking around with a target on your forehead for anti-American radicals. So I opted out and took to the streets. I went to my favorite district: the Marais district. That's where the real Paris is. Away from the Eiffel tower, the Notre Dame, the Louvre. This is just beautiful, ancient streets, sidewalk cafes, and is home to the beautiful Musee Picasso. I didn't get to go to the Picasso museum this year, because it was under renovation, but I went two years ago, and I can tell you it's worth a visit. Then I went to go meet up with my friends at the Notre Dame when they got out of their tour. Luckily enough, some French protestors decided to meet outside the Notre Dame as well. With their banners, and their songs, they're acting as if a huge injustice was done to them. Ok, seriously? Raising the retirement age from 60 to 62? Not such a big deal. America's is between 65-67, so I don't want to hear it.

The Notre Dame is beautiful, of course. Back in the old day, there wasn't that huge open square in front of it, all the houses went right up to the very front of the Cathedral. As I have now excitedly realized, Disney was surprisingly accurate in their portrayal of Medieval life living in front of the Notre Dame in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Hell yeah! I knew Disney could be used as a history textbook! Ok, maybe not for Pocahontas... Oh, and Victor Hugo, author of the Hunchback, lived and died in the Marais district, and you can still go see his house. Another incentive to go there. But by far the best part of the Notre Dame--- no, Paris--- is the Crypte Arquelogique. It is AMAZING. I cannot stress enough how cool it is. Everyone in the whole wide world knows about the Notre Dame. But what not many people know is that in the square in front of the Notre Dame, behind a couple bushes, is a staircase going into the ground. The Roman ruins of Paris lie intact directly UNDERNEATH the Notre Dame. When you descend into the crypte, you can walk around, and see what the houses looked like. You can see the staircases, where they moored their boats, their front doors. It's incredible. And it only costs 2 euros with a student ID.

Now the last thing I cannot forget to talk about is the food. YUM. Steak Frite, bouillabaise, cheese souffles, and CREPES... all accompanied with a nice glass of French wine, of course. Let's just say I'm glad I walked a lot, because I probably would have gained a lot of weight in that one weekend. Oh well, life's too short. Au Revoir!

5 Things you probably didn't know about Granada...

While reading all my past blog posts, I realized I really haven't really written that many on Granada. Shame on me! Granada is not only the home base for all of my travels, but the most beautiful city on earth, with the most interesting buildings, culture, views, food, and people. So in honor of my beautiful home, here is a list of things you probably didn't know about Granada. And I know... some of these may apply to all of Spain.

1. "Granada" means pomegranate in Spanish. And they like to remind people by putting little iron pomegranates all over the city at just the right length so that my knees are perpetually black and blue.

2. Spaniards have an obsession with the lottery. All day, every day, you will be assaulted by young men, old men, old women, young children trying to sell you tickets for "el premio gordo". And the most amazing part of all... people buy them EVERY day! That's who we call people with issues.

3. We have here a very small and close-knit community that can only be found in Granada. No, they're not the gitanos. They're the perroflautas. Dog-flutes. Who are they? Let's examine the word. Perro-flautas. They're certain people who like to wander around with unwashed hair and low-crotch pants of rainbow colors, performing songs on flutes or other strange instruments with varying success, and always, ALWAYS, have some sort of mangy dog following them. It is up for debate where they live and how the actually manage to support themselves, since I have literally never seen one work.

4. The botellón. A very important Granada institution. Apparently a few years ago, those who couldn't afford bars (read: students) would just go to the supermarket and pick up alcohol there and drink it on the street with their friends. But as you can imagine, it got kinda messy. Not to be too graphic, but I don't even want to imagine all the bodily fluids that were flowing down the street on a Sunday morning. So they decided to designate one parking lot in the outskirts of Granada to be the only place where people can legally drink in the street. And let me tell you, any given night, you will find approximately 75% of the Universidad de Granada student population congregating there, with a few Americans thrown in. Trust me, it makes for some fun times.

5. If you ever come to visit Granada one day (and you should), you no doubt will be strolling along the Cathedral, soaking up the sun and enjoying life. All of the sudden a nice, old lady will approach you and offer you a sprig of rosemary. You would think, 'oh, how nice, I do love the smell of rosemary'. As you start to walk away, sprig in hand, the nice, old lady will turn into an evil hag before your eyes. She grabs your hand with the pretense of reading your palm, and then will not let it go until you give her money. This is the gypsy-giving-you-rosemary scheme, and somehow, it always works on tourists. So beware!

That's a little taste. I'll try and add more every week or so. See you all soon!

Dublin

I finally went! I have been wanting to go to Ireland for a long time. For the same reasons everyone else wants to go: the supernaturally green landscape, the history, the nightlife, and the irish accent. Although unlike the rest of America, I did not go to Ireland to rediscover my heritage. I cannot, for the life of me, understand how about 60% of the US has Irish in them. After the potato famine, I guess the only thing they could do to pass the time that was free was have babies, and lots of them. And you could tell in Dublin. Many tourist shops offered plaques with your Irish last name, and then they would include the history of your tribe, or your clan, or whatever you call it. I thought about making up an Irish name... how about Eileen O'Donnell in honor of my favorite song.

Dublin is surprising a pretty city. When people come to Dublin, they don't really say, "Oh my Gosh, Dublin is just a breathtaking city!". They actually say, "Oh my Gosh, the beer in Temple Bar is 9 euros! But I don't really remember paying, so I guess it doesn't matter...." Temple Bar is everything you expect it to be: expensive, touristy, crowded, strange, and beyond all else fun. I almost expected for myself to hate it, because that seems to be the general trend for me (I know, I know, sue me I don't like the Eiffel Tower). But you can really get in the mood! Everyone around you is having fun, so you have fun. The best part is the live music. After bar hopping to about 7 different bars, we finally settled on one that we really liked the music. We were once again the only girls in the bar. What is it with these ratios in the UK? But I soon realized that all the men standing around us had smiling, rosy faces, all were drinking heavily, wearing strange clothes, blonde hair, and blue eyes, and were singing badly. Oh God, my people followed me to Dublin. I think about 70% of that bar was Dutch. And the fun part was they thought we couldn't understand them. Hehe. Apparently I smell good. Regardless of the lack of Irish company, we still had the time of our lives.

The next day we went to Trinity College, which is one of the most beautiful campuses I have ever seen. But no fair, because I'm pretty sure they spray-paint their grass green. The Book of Kells was there, but I didn't get to go in and see it because it cost 7 euros, and I was the only one in the group who had heard of it, and I didn't want to drag them all in there and make them pay. So I consoled myself with going to Dublin Castle. But once again, traveling on a student budget bites the big one. So eating won out over touring inside the castle. Oh well, it was a good mashed potato.

Liverpool

HOLA!

Lo siento for the wait! But now I'll make it up to you...

Among the many trips that were booked during long nights in an "internet bar" (great decisions were made there, I can tell you), one of them was to Liverpool and Ireland. I've always wanted to go to Ireland, for obvious reasons, have you ever seen a picture? The Liverpool stopover? Yeah, that was kinda done for economical reasons... so cheap! So after a horrendous travel schedule (I've found there's a reason RyanAir's tickets are so cheap, it's because all their flights are at 3 in the morning), we finally arrived in Liverpool.

The first thing I thought as the plane was landing was 'holy crap! It's sunny! In England? How can it be?' My second thought was "wow. look at all those smoke stacks and factories.' Ok I'm being unfair, Liverpool does have its charm. It just also is still recovering from a horrendous post-World War II economic decline. But its coming along very nicely, I'll say that.

Liverpool is probably most famous for some band that had a few hit songs a while ago (hint: an insect). So of course I was excited to see where they were from. We got off a bus stop called Penny Lane! The airport is called John Lennon International Airport, and there is a big, yellow submarine when you walk outside.

Not that they're proud or anything. Unfortunately we really weren't in Liverpool that long, more like half a day and that night. But we found a beautiful pub called The Phillharmonic, and I mean really, the most beautiful pub ever.

I would not have been surprised to see Winston Churchill and Dumbledore playing chess in the corner. It simply oozed with good taste and faded grandeur. So because we were in a proper British pub, I went up to the bartender to ask him what he recommended to drink. It went a little something like this: "Hi, what would you recommend me to drink? I don't really like heavy beers." Him: "Of, hugh aveint tryd dah best kyinduh. Lemme paw hugh sumfin spesha n hugh tell me wha hugh fink." I literally could NOT for the life of me understand what this man was saying to me. I asked him to repeat himself 3 times. "Aaaeeuoogghh so hugh donna speak Liverpuddlian, duye?". I thought I spoke English, and last I checked that's what they spoke in Liverpool. But no, I was sorely mistaken. After having some poor gentleman at the bar finally translate for me, I sat down with a huge pint of something very austere and British sounding, and actually pretty good!

We then scarfed down a huge meal of something called "sticky chicken" (that's what happens when you don't eat for 10 hours), and decided to go onto another bar. One of the things we noticed about Liverpool: there are not a lot of girls. Really! I think I spotted about 20 the whole time we were there. Everytime we walked anywhere, everyone's heads swiveled :"girls!". Weird. So if anyone back home is frustrated with the Mary Washington ratio, and doesn't mind having to learn Liverpuddlian, have a go in Liverpool.

The second bar was nice enough, although we all first thought it was a Gentleman's club (no, not that kind), so that we had to ask if we were even allowed to be inside. They just laughed. I got myself a nice, tall glass of Pimm's. I LOVE Pimm's. Then we met this guy, Daz, who lives in Liverpool but is originally from Umbria. Talking to him confirmed my realization that I could not speak the language here. But with my friends translating, it wasn't that bad. He couldn't believe that there were Americans there. "Wihyy fo fooks sak wood hugh caom to Leeverpool?" Why, to meet people like you, my classy British friend.

The next morning, it was onto Dublin. A short, but cheery and brash visit to the home of the Beatles, the famous football team, and a language so strange that I could spend the rest of my life watching them talk. Except not, because then I would have to look at their teeth.

Barcelona!

Hola a todos!

Get ready for one long entry! One of the major upsides of studying abroad in Europe is the wealth of opportunities we have to travel. Almost every weekend we're all off doing something. And all the flights are so cheap! In America, in order to go anywhere interesting (or so I think) you need to pay at least $400. I bought my ticket to Barcelona with my friends for 40 euros. Because we booked it so last minute (literally the week before) we didn't have much of a plan, but we had so much fun anyway. I knew what I wanted to see... Gaudí! But besides that, we didn't really have any idea. The first day there we had half a day to explore, and we stumbled upon a free exhibit in Casa Milá, one of Gaudí's buildings.

When we went, we were lucky to see an exhibition of Javier Mariscal's work. Whoa, baby, they like their modern cubism in Barcelona, don't they? He literally covered every medium. We walked into a room and all the walls were covered in his sketches, ranging from as mundane as a city scape, to a satorial on the custom of bull fighting (where the bull was chasing the matador with a pitch fork). Another room had sculptures, another furniture, another a movie, a moving figurine telling a story, he really did everything. And he designed the mascot for the 1992 Barcelona Olympics! I wish I could have taken pictures, but they weren't allowed in the exhibit. But here's one in the foyer!

We had a late lunch that day in (what we thought was) a small sidewalk cafe, but travellers beware!, it's a 20% charge to sit outside. So we decided to trudge into the small, dark interior, which actually ended up being a cavern with skylights. It was huge! It just kept going and going, with rooms and floors in all directions. Apparently a lot of restaurants in Barcelona are like this. They look like a mom and pop place from outside, where they seat the tourists who want to eat outside, and then all the Spaniards sit inside in a luxurious interior. Another thing that helps is when you're traveling with a group of girls, is you end up getting a lot of free stuff. All we ordered were drinks and our main meal. What we got was drinks, pan con tomate, ensalada, our main meal, and when he asked if we wanted desert and we declined, he smiles, nods, and puts down a tray of ice creams on our table. We all stared at each other as if waiting for the people from Punk'd to jump out of the bushes. This just doesn't happen in Europe. We were very skeptical when we received the bill, but nope! Everything was free!

The next day we went to Las Ramblas and el Bari Gotic (the gothic neighborhood). I'm not going to lie, I really didn't like Las Ramblas. As in REALLY didn't like it. So many people, everything was so expensive, all these street performers are creepy, there are pickpocketers crawling up the wall, and they have these awful pet stalls where they keep baby animals in cages so that fat tourists can poke their chubby fingers in the cage and scare the shit out of them with their cameras. Yes, as you can tell, I was not a fan. We turned right into market that was absolutely lleno de people. It was ridiculous. I subconsciously grabbed my purse and just about stuffed it down my shirt. Turns out my instinct was right, apparently the market is notorious for thieves. In the beginning, we were all oohing and ahhing at all the brightly colored fruit, some of which we'd never seen before, nuts, candy, and bread. Then we reached the fish section. Ok, still cool even if a little stinky. And then we reached the meat section. Oh. My. God. I left the market immediately, let's just leave it at that.

I liked the Gothic neighborhood so much more. It was all windy roads and alleys, ancient buildings, and churches popping out in the most random places. At one point we reached a sign that said that in that exact spot was where the ancient Roman wall had once said. Way more down my alley. The shopping was much more reasonable (I got a little caftan for 3 euros!), and we got to see some beautiful churches! There was even a little cheese market in a square we turned into (no, papi, I did not get you any cheese. It stunk too bad).

Our last day we made our Gaudí day. All Gaudí all the time. We started off going to La Sagrada Familia, the famous church everyone thinks of when they think of Barcelona.

It was pretty cool, but the lines were ridiculous to get in, so we consoled ourselves with lots of pictures, and then moved onto Parque Güell, which looks as though Willy Wonka designed it.

The weather was beautiful, so despite all the tourists, we still really enjoyed ourselves. I stood in the exact spot where they filmed Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and then spent the next hour tourist watching, which is very amusing. Oh well, I have to tell myself there's a reason so many tourists go to one particular place, it must be because it's worth it.

So much more to tell, but my fingers are falling off, so I think I'll leave that for another entry!

Las Alpujarras

Hola a todos!

I'm sorry I've been delinquent at writing! It's so tough with the unreliable internet and all the travelling. But I'm here! After lots of traveling! I'm going to try and recount the highlights of the last couple weeks. First up, Las Alpujarras! It was drop-dead beautiful. My friend Jessie and I decided (completely spontaneously) to buy tickets to Pampaneira, one of the towns in the region. After a (very) perilous journey, with half-blind gentleman driving the bus and poor Jessie almost throwing up next to me, we finally made it there. Me being a complete idiot, I decided the perfect outfit to go hiking in was shorts, a white blouse, and Sperry's. I don't want to talk about it. Well, apparently it was really warm in Granada that day, but in the Sierra Nevada mountains... not so much. But I quickly forgot about it when I saw the towns. It looks like somebody picked up a Greek village and dropped it down in the middle of a temperate zone.

So the whole idea is to get there, do a little bit of shopping and eating, and then hike onto the next village. Las Alpujarras are famous for the hand-woven rugs, and I REALLY wanted to get one, but figured it would be too heavy to cart around. So I consoled myself with a hippy-looking purse that everybody now claims looks like a Peruvian bag. Whatever. Oh, and on a side note, we turned the corner, and look what we saw!

The cutest thing you've ever seen! A woman told us to take one, and I almost did, but it would be problematic trying to sneak it on to the plane going back to the US. The next town was Bublion, which was much quieter, but still pretty. After all the hiking we were doing, the toast with jam that morning really wasn't cutting it. I almost took a bite out of a cow walking by. So imagine our faces when we get to Bublion and not seeing a single restaurant open, after just leaving Pampaneira which was brimming with them. We almost cried... until we turned the corner and found a little alpine lodge that served food! Salvation! We had an incredible meal of Alpujarran meat, roasted potatoes, and pesto pasta.

Yes, I was in heaven. But it was short-lived. This is the point where the cold became intolerable, and I caved and bought an 8 euro hippy sweater. I'm pretty sure everyone thought I was a traveling minstrel. When we finally ended at Capileira, our bodies were screaming for siesta (hey, I can't go a day without one now). So what did we do? What you should always do while exploring random villages. We found a church courtyard, and fell asleep there in the sun. It was way less sketch than it sounds, I swear. Anyway, I woke up to the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

It is currently the background on my computer. I can now literally say I slept in the clouds. The day ended when we finally took the bus from Capileira all the way back to Granada as the sun was setting. Ahh, perfect.

Salobreña

You know when you just have one of those days that you put away in your memory to revisit again on a rainy day, because it was just that perfect? Well Salobreña is going to be that for me. While it may not have been the most beautiful beach I have ever been to in the world (unfair to compare to the Caribbean), it really was everything together that made it so relaxing. It was a beautiful day, good company, good food, barely anybody was there, and just such a nice escape from class. The unfortunate part of studying abroad is I actually have to go to class... you kinda forget that part when you're daydreaming about traveling in your head. So everyday I have intensive Spanish from 9 to 1, and frankly, its killing me. Let's just say mi profesora may not be the most life-changing teacher I've ever had. But on one fine Thursday after class, my friends Jessie, Sarah, and I (completely spontaneously, yes I am proud of myself) bought tickets for 5 euros to Salobreña. In less than an hour, we were standing on a pebble beach, looking at the Mediterranean ocean. Pure bliss. So we proceeded to do what everybody does at the beach: nothing. The water was freezing, the sand was rough, but it didn't matter. It was just so nice. We decided to climb up on the promontory on the side to take some pictures, and wow what a view. A perfect setting for an impromptu photo shoot! We finished up the day by having dinner on the beach as the sun was setting, and drove home on the bus salty, tan, and happy.

Sacromonte

Hola a todos!

I'm back! It was really difficult to get internet here, I had to go to internet cafes, order a coke, and get glared at the entire time by the waitresses. So I went without for the last two weeks, which was fine by me because I was too busy really to notice. But I realized I missed skyping, and writing emails, and I have to start filling out forms for next semester in Cadiz, so Manuela drove me to Carrefour today (the Spanish Walmart) and I got this little wifi plug in thingy. Yes, so technical am I. But it works! And for only a euro a day! Oh joy! So now I can skype, etc.!

So one of the unfortunate things of not being able to keep up with my blog for the last couple weeks is that it all starts to (happily) run together. A lot has happened so it's just gonna peter out slowly. I'll write about more later. I wish I had been able to describe everything while it was still fresh, but I'll do my best to remember...

About 2 and a half weeks ago we went for a "short" tour of the Sacromonte neighborhood. Oh. My. Lord. I say that for two reasons: one, it was stunningly beautiful. Two, that was NOT a short tour. That was a five hour long tour. In August. In the south of Spain. I distinctly remember almost falling down a mountain and not caring because at least I wouldn't be hot anymore. Sacromonte is one of the oldest, if not the oldest, neighborhoods in Granada. You might recognize it because it's famous for its cave houses and flamenco shows. But it's also not really safe. We went as a group in the middle of the day, but they recommended to us if we came at night to go in a big group (with guys) and take a taxi. While we were walking through the winding roads, a gitana (gypsy lady) came out and invited us to take a look inside a flamenco dancing cave. Mari, our sweet, gentle, trusting API guide, naturally accepted, while us hardened, skeptical Americans stared warily at the woman. I'm trying not to be too mean here, but she looked like she belonged on Jerry Springer (no joke, I think she was wearing a shower curtain cut into a skirt). But we all followed Mari in, oohed and aahed, took pictures, and then attempted to walk out. But instead we were instantly accosted by angry gypsy lady. "No pudeis salir sin pagarme dinero! DAME DINERO!". We all ran past her and ran for our lives. Hence my present hesitation in visiting Sacromonte alone again. But that experience doesn't take away from how beautiful it is.
Just before we were verbally assaulted...

More later! Besos!

Mi primera semana en Granada!

Hola a todos de Granada!

Granada is everything I thought it would be and more! I arrived last Monday, so it will have been almost a week tomorrow. When we first arrived to Granada by bus, my first impression was it was a lot busier and bigger than I though it would be. But after beeing here for a week, I can see where my confusion came from. Granada tiene muchas caras. Granada has many faces. On one hand, it is a bustling Metropolis and a tourist attraction.

But then you turn the corner, and it becomes a quaint, quiet, traditional Andalucian town.

One shopping street carries the quintessential Spanish stores, such as Mango, Zara, Bershka, etc., and then suddenly you enter barrio de Albaicin, and it's like you took a turn into Morocco.

Of course, I'm loving it. You can never get bored in Granada. And even though I've only been here one week, I'm already starting to feel like a Granadina. I know my place around pretty well, although not all the barrios (I won't walk around the Albaicin and Sacromonte by myself), I have a small breakfast, a very large lunch at 2:30, and a small dinner at 9:30, and I take a siesta at 4. It's so easy to become adjusted to this way of life. While at first the ebb and flow of the people was very confusing for me, I've started to understand everything. At home, 5 pm would be prime shopping time. Here, it is dead. And not only is it dead, it's closed. It looks like mass evacuation occurred. So when is prime shopping time here? 8 pm, or after dinner around 10. Antoher thing to get used to: how LONG the night is. No wonder they need siestas! In the US, we start getting ready around 10, and go out at 11, and thats when the night starts. HA! Here, 10 is dinner, which turns into drinks, then you bar hop, and then you finally head to a club (or here discotheque) after 1 AT LEAST. If you go before then, although you may get in free, you'll be the only one there. Although it is a good strategy if you're low on cash! Then you usually stay out till 6 am, although I'm still having trouble with that one.

In terms of my host mom, I adore her. Her name is Manuela Langa Cuenca, and she has a grown daughter named Mariana. They are both super nice, and it gives me a great chance to speak Spanish, because they don't speak a word of English. Her food is DELCIOUS, and I'm proud to say I eat everything, and like everything. She was so excited to see I was not a typical American. The first couple days she went easy, and made pasta, etc. And then somehow we started talking about food, and I told her I loved pate, and she got super excited. Now she goes crazy, and its so good. One thing that was easy adjusting to: aceite de oliva... con todo! Another easy thing: fruit. For breakfast lunch and dinner. And it is delicious! Pears, strawberries, pomegranates, melon, watermelon, grapes, chirimoyas, etc. And I never really like it before, but now I can eat bowls of red peppers!

I've made amazing friends here, and I feel like I've been here for weeks already. Because Spain's way of life is so social, I find myself always out of the house, eating with friends, or walking with friends. You're always around people. And always walking. I'm lucky, my house is only a ten minute walk from the center of Granda, but I walk on average 3 hours a day. Yesterday, probably more. The Spanish obviously have it all figured out. You can eat whatever you want, and it can be good, rich food. And you don't need to exercise, you just call up your friends after a siesta, and walk around for an hour. It's easy, and it doesn't even feel like work!

I miss you all! Hasta Luego!

El tiemp va lento, pero la gente va rápidamente en Madrid

I think the Spanish are really on to something. Waking up around 9, you have all morning free. Then, after lunch at 2, you nap until 4:30. Then you have more free time, then dinner at 10, and then because of your siesta, you stay up until 2 or 3 walking around. And repeat the next day. It really makes your day feel soooo long. I cannot believe I have only been here 3 days, it feels like at least a week!

So yesterday, because I was still jet lagged, I woke up pretty early, and my roommate Casey and I decided to walk around Madrid in the early morning. It was so peaceful without having all the hustle and bustle normally swarming around. We went down Gran Via (the main street through Madrid), and ended up at an Egyptian temple. Yeah, that's right. I had to look around and make sure we hadn't accidently made a wrong turn and ended up in Greece.

Apparently, Spain somehow got it as a gift, but it was amazing because we were able to walk around inside of it, and see all the hieroglyphics.

After getting back, we took a quick rest before getting ready to leave again for our tour of El Prado. Obviously, because of it's size, it was more of a highlights tour. But it was still pretty cool, because I didn't know a lot about Spanish art. I think my favorite artist was (I know Papi, don't kill me) Goya. Although he went through a pretty depressing period, some of his paintings remind me of the "I Spy" books, where you hunt around for hidden objects, or in this case meanings and symbols. Afterwards, some of the girls and I went off to find lunch, and ended up in the cutest little plaza ever for a nice siesta meal. Just one of those moments, you know? When you look around, and are just completely content. For some reason, the only picture I decided to take was of a hilariously miniature bus trying to navigate the narrow streets, but you can kind of get the idea.

There's nothing I love more than sidewalk cafes. Ahhh... soo much to tell, and too tired to tell it now. Adios for now, I'll update more later.

Madrid

Jet lag is hitting me pretty hard. I woke up at 4 am, and haven't been able to go to sleep since. So what's the natural course of action? Write a blog post of course!

The flight was ok, no major hitches. Although I did get pulled aside at the security checkpoint so they could search my bag. When he pulled out the pineapple-shaped candle snuffer (don't ask), he said "Huh. Definitely thought that was something else on the screen". Don't know what that would be... but then he said, "well, you don't look like that kind of girl anyway". Uhhh... hello? Why do you think terrorists pay women to go on planes with them, or carry kids? It's a diversion technique! But so glad to know I don't look like terrorist, despite my previous experiences with airport security. When I got to the gate, I slowly realized that I was already on an extension of Spanish soil in Dulles Airport. It was Iberia airlines, so I was literally one of the only Americans. Not gonna lie, their rapid Spanish was making me really nervous. And then when they went on the intercom to say families with young children and rows 75 to 45 to begin lining up (only in Spanish of course, no translation), EVERYBODY lined up. I was sitting there looking stupid, waiting for my row number to be called, until I realized everybody was already inside the plane. Apparently lines don't really mean anything in Spain.

So I've been in Madrid for a grand total of one day, but it really feels like a lifetime. I wish I could be more descriptive of what I saw and everything, but it's all kind of foggy right now. I had been up for 36 hours straight (couldn't sleep on the airplane), so I was a zombie walking the streets of Mardrid pointing and shooting with my camera. We had lunch at a restaurant in the Plaza de Mayor, although it was kind of forgettable. I had a chorizo sandwhich, which ended up being a lot like salami instead of the sausage I thought I had ordered. But it was nice, because I was there with a group of girls, so we got to bond a little bit. My group is huge! There's about 50 people or more in it, so it's a little intimidating to try and meet everybody right now. Oh, and I'm definitely the only one from the DMV area. Met a lot of Californians and Rhode Islanders, curiously enough. For dinner, API treated us to dinner at another restaurant off the Plaza de Mayor. Now THAT, was yummy. True Spanish tapas. I think we literally had 12 plates of food come. My favorites were the Tortilla Espanola, Jamon Serrano, and these little round nuggets with potato in them. Don't really know the names of the rest of them, but they were all delicious.

The walk back was amazing. It was about 10:30, and all the stores were still open, everybody was walking around, it was livelier than during the day! Everybody was just walking around, or having tapas, or just enjoying doing nothing. And according to our API leaders, Madrid is way more fast paced than Granada!

On the eve of departure

It's finally here. I can't believe it! I have been planning for this for almost 2 years. To be honest, it hasn't quite hit me yet. It probably won't hit me until I'm getting in the plane tomorrow. Or maybe it'll just never hit me at all! I find that if I keep myself from really thinking about it, like really pondering the enormity of what I'm doing, then I'm fine! Ignorance is bliss, my friends. But here I am making it sound like I'm off to dig trenches in Siberia for three years. Everybody has been telling me this, and I know, that I will have the time of my life. So really, I'm not worried. Ok, maybe a little. But it's about stupid stuff that would never really happen. It's like the in-school-with-your-underwear nightmare. What if I get there and nobody wants to be friends with me? What if I get there, and they say my Spanish is atrocious and kick me out of the program?! What if I absolutely hate Granada? These are all silly questions, of course. Or at least that's what I tell myself (*just don't think about it, just don't think about it, just don't think about it*).

Anywho, my bags are packed, checked luggage coming in at 50.8 lbs. (the limit is 50), but if they try to say something, I'll just give them my nastiest nasty eye. Or just take a sweater out and stuff it in my purse. Either one. And may I take this opportunity to say, I am quite proud of myself for packing so light. Ok, I know it's not unbelievably light, but it's pretty good for me! Anybody who knows me knows I am such a clothes horse, sooo... 3 pairs of jeans, 15 tops, 5 cardigans, and 4 pairs of shoes really isn't that bad for me. Oh, and 4 skirts, 2 shorts. Still. I am totally impressed with myself right now. Ok, so here's hoping I have a good semester!!! The next time I write on this blog, I'll be in Spain!

Wish me luck!!

Why, oh WHY is this summer so long??

As you can tell by the title of this blog, it is about my time studying abroad in southern Spain. Am I there yet? Unfortunately, no. Still got 26 days to go.

So seeing as I can't really blog yet about anything in Spain, I though it would be helpful to write about how I chose my program, location, length, etc., since lots of people have asked me over the last 8 months. For those who don't know, I attend University of Mary Washington in Fredericksburg, VA, majoring in History and Spanish. Pretty nifty. I'm studying abroad with API (Abroad Programs International) in Granada, Spain first semester (end of Aug till Dec) and second semester to Cadiz, Spain (Jan to May).

I started researching pretty early, like, beginning of Freshman year. Unnecessary. I'm pretty sure the study abroad office wanted to club me in the head. I wanted to go for a year, because I didn't think a semester was long enough. My goal is by the end of the year, I want to feel like a native. Like a resident. I knew I wanted to go to Spain, and started off with the idea of Sevilla (you know, southern Spanish weather, flamenco, bugs bunny). But when I started to talk to people who'd been there, although they loved it and thought it was a beautiful city, I kept hearing time and time again that there were a lot of Americans there. Sad :(, the city I've fixated on for years, might not be the city for me. I like places off the beaten path, authentically Spanish.

They have this really awesome book in the office with every single program in every country. I just went through every city in Spain, looked at it on a map, and then looked it up online. My school had only one program they offered directly: in Bilbao. No disrespect to Bilbao, I'm sure it's a wonderful city. But there's 3 reasons I would never study abroad in Bilbao:

1. They speak Basque, a weird form of Spanish. The lisping is hard enough!

2. They just happen to be home to the ETA, a cheery group of fellows who get their giggles from putting bombs in trashcans.

3. Crappy weather. (I know, it shouldn't be that important, but seriously! It makes a difference... or maybe I just suffer from seasonal depression).

Sooo... cities in Spain, that are a.) in the South, b.) authentically Spanish with a small expat population, c.) speak normal Spanish (although it's all kinda weird), d.) And is a medium size, not too big, like Madrid or Barcelona, but big enough so that I have stuff to do.

I found Granada first, which seems amazing. It's definitely in the South, in the Sierra Nevada mountains, and has the awesome aspect of having lots of Moorish influence, pretty groovy for a history buff, and is home to the Alhambra, the most visited site in Spain. Ok. Done.

As I was going through the rest of the cities, I recognized most of the names: Cordoba, Valencia, Malaga, etc. But what's this? Cadiz? Where/what is that? *google maps* "oooh, ahhh". Done. Just wiki/google map it. Seriously, you'll understand. And, no, it has absolutely, positively nothing to do with the fact that it's on the beach. Nothing at all. And not many tourists! Perfect! API is one of the only companies that offer a program in Cadiz, and they conveniently offer a program in Granada as well. Save $500 from going on two programs? I think my inner Dutch just reared it's stingy little head.

So my selection process may not have been what a study abroad advisor would have told you to do, but hey, at least I'm being honest!