I’ve been in Spain for exactly two months now and I've made countless posts about how wonderful/exciting/breathtaking it is. (Countless might be an overstatement... more like ten. Give me a break, I'm very lazy.) I'm loving my time here and I have no regrets whatsoever about coming. However, let's get real: Spain is definitely not a perfect country and there are plenty of things that drive me crazy. Like pull-your-hair-out, fight-with-people, illegally-emigrate crazy. So, to make everyone feel better about not being in Seville with me, I'm going to discuss five random things about Spain that I hate. Enjoy the schadenfreude!
Note: if you're looking for a scathing intellectual indictment of Spanish society/politics/norms, you are in the wrong place. This is more along the lines of "The TV doesn't have enough channels and they don't have Wendy's!"
5. CREEPY SPANISH MEN
I know I’ve discussed this recently, but it needs to be restated: many men in Spain are remarkably forward. Put less politely, they are complete creeps. They will hit on you relentlessly and shamelessly, regardless of massive age differences (do I look like I'm in the market for 60-year-old men?) or how you respond (literally everything is interpreted as "Call me 'guapa' a few more times and I'm yours!") or how you actually look that day (are sweatshirts considered exotic here or something?).
Plus, the Spanish have a tradition called the "piropo", in which men yell compliments, whistle, or hiss at women walking by in the street. Basically it's a culturally-sanctioned way to hassle ladies. It's harmless and sometimes hilarious but usually annoying, and I haven't met anyone here that hasn't been a victim at least once. For shame, Spanish men! This is why you all still live with your mothers!
4. LIVING IN SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE
I'm currently living in a homestay with my host mother. To be fair to Spain, this would happen anywhere I studied abroad, but I really dislike being a guest in someone's house for four months. It's a very uncomfortable feeling, like I have to be on my best behavior all the time.
For example: I can't play music, or watch movies on my computer with the sound on, or talk on Skype with anyone if my senora is home because the walls here are roughly the thickness of construction paper. I have no control over when/what/how much I eat (awesome, white asparagus with mayonnaise again!). I can't put my feet up while I watch TV, or sit cross-legged on the couch, or walk around without slippers on because Spaniards have a strange aversion to feet. My room is the size of an average American bathroom (if my desk chair is out or my closet door is open, I can't get out) but I'm stuck in there pretty much anytime I'm home because I don't want to disturb my host mother. I can't take a shower that lasts more than ten minutes because the hot water will go out-- if it was even there to begin with. Jealous?
3. COSTLINESS
Welcome to Spain, the land where you can't afford literally anything! Need batteries for your camera? Four AA batteries will cost you just over $4.00. Thirsty? A typical glass of beer here-- a portion so small that no American bar would dare serve it-- costs about $2.25. Craving fast food? A combo meal at Burger King costs a whopping (pun intended) $11.00. Want a snack? A regular-sized container of peanuts will cost you about $7.00. Honestly... peanuts? They're so cheap they're basically the ramen of nuts! How is that even possible?
All in all, it's amazing how much money I've spent in my time here. I've been trying to be more frugal (I've always been very money-conscious but I'm basically Oliver Twist at this point) and no matter what I do I keep hemorrhaging money. Even the most minuscule purchase destroys my bank account. What the heck, Europe? There's no way that chapstick costs $4.00. Why didn't I go to South America again?
2. SMOKERS
The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and I step outside my apartment door in the most chipper of moods... into an inescapable cloud of smoke. For whatever reason, possibly some extremely convincing Camel ad in the 1970s, everyone in Spain smokes. I walk about half an hour to the University of Seville and spend at least 15% of that time inhaling someone else's second-hand smoke. I'm pretty easy-going in general but it's like some weird type of dark magic-- it turns me surly and bitter immediately. Smoking is one of my pet peeves because it's so inherently selfish: why should your terrible habit endanger my life? Come on, buddy, I'm slowly killing myself on fried chicken and cookies but you'll be no worse for the wear. Be a team player.
To make things worse, there are very, very few no-smoking laws here. On every street, in many stores, and in every bar or club (regardless how poorly ventilated) smoking is welcome. As a result, my lungs are assuredly a delightful shade of gray after two months in this country. If I ever get lung cancer I am going to do things the American Way: sue the HELL out of Spain.
1. THE FOOD
If you didn't realize that food would top the list, I regret to inform you that you don't know me at all. I hate the food here with every fiber of my being. First of all, maybe I'm being super-American but the portions are preposterous. Four tiny pieces of ham does not a dinner make. There is literally no one over age four who would be content with the tiny chunks of meat you just gave me. Factor in that everything is insanely expensive (see complaint #3) and I very rarely sample the local cuisine.
Plus, the food here is pretty bland. I thought it was just me, but I got this complaint verified by several of my friends. Hey, Spain-- olive oil, as much as you adore it, is not a flavoring. Why do you pour it on everything? Also, salt only goes so far. Don't you have spices of any sort? Come on, you're right next to Morocco, you've got to have something you're holding back.
Ok, I have to go out now but that's the essence of my issues with Spain. Can someone air-mail me a Baconator, please?
See You Later, Malagator
I know I'm blogging like it's going out of style lately, but I need to write about my trip to Malaga before I can repress all of the horrible memories I gained there. Don't get me wrong, it's a beautiful beach town with lots to do, but their primary export seems to be creepy men.
This past weekend, I took a two-day trip by myself to Malaga, a small city on the coast of southern Spain. I woke up at the crack of dawn to catch my train and arrived in Malaga by 10:00 a.m. The weather was absolutely perfect, which was nice considering the constant rain we've been getting in Seville. I grabbed a map from the tourist's office before deciding to wander around for a bit. (Surprised? "Wander" is probably my most often-used word on here... besides maybe "food".)
A huge statue in the main square. No idea who it is though... I probably should have bothered to read it. Based on my knowledge of the town, I'm going to hazard a guess that it's Picasso. They LOVE Picasso.
The Ayuntamiento (Town Hall) of Malaga, which is beautiful, vaguely yellow, and about fifty feet from the beach. I'll become a Spanish politician if it means I can work there!
I took a picture of this sign (which says "street under construction", more or less) to represent the ridiculous amount of construction in Malaga. There are cranes everywhere, and there isn't a block without something going on.
The Plaza de Merced, which actually turned out to be about two minutes from my hostel.
After exploring for an hour and enjoying the wide variety of street performers, I decided to check out the city's main attraction: the Alcazaba, an ancient Muslim palace built high up on a hill. It was awesome because there were lots of random stone staircases and you could climb on just about everything. And climb I did!
One of the many gardens of the Alcazaba. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and there were even butterflies milling around. It was preposterously pleasant.
The Patio of the Oranges in the Alcazaba. Wow, beautiful gardens and patios... I'm just now realizing this is basically just Alhambra Part Deux.
Some cool Muslim architecture within the Alcazaba. I want something exactly like this in my next apartment.
They also had a special exposition of ancient pottery within the Alcazaba, which I pretended to be interested in.
After I finished climbing around the Alcazaba, I trudged up the giant hill to the Castle of Gibralfaro. It was used as a military fortress and played a key part in the city's defense hundreds of years ago. Now, it pretty much just makes tourists sweaty and tired.
A picture from the highest point in the town of Malaga. I actually have dozens of pictures from varying points on the walk up, because that sucker was steep and I needed any excuse to rest.
The ancient Roman theater, right next to the Alcazaba.
I then enjoyed (well, "enjoyed" might be too strong of a word) a variety of Picasso-related activities. He was born in Malaga and lived there for a short time before leaving to study art, so they're crazy about him. I visited the house where he was born, the church he was baptized in, the building where he went to school, and even ran into a random place where he apparently lived for a few months.
A picture of Picasso from when he was young. How cute! This was the only picture I managed to take in the house before being yelled at to stop. I swear, I get yelled at here at least once every day.
Then I walked to the official Picasso museum. I really don't know what I was expecting, seeing as I am definitely not a Picasso fan. To be honest, pretty much all abstract art is the same to me: uninteresting and unimpressive. But I was in Malaga, and it was my duty as a tourist to go.
This was probably my favorite painting in the museum, because I can at least somewhat understand it and there are bright colors.
After leaving the museum I headed to the beach, because I wanted to take advantage of the weather. Plus, I was sick of museums and ain't no way the beach isn't going to be 100% fun!
A sculpture (stone, not sand) on the Malagueta beach.
I love the beach!
Unfortunately my peace was interrupted after about an hour of relaxation. I was wearing headphones and trying to sleep when I felt someone looming over me. Ah, delightful, a young Spanish man! I assumed he wanted to move because he and his friends were going to use the space for a soccer game, but no. He plopped down beside me and we had what was probably the most stilted conversation I've ever had. He would say something (mostly just "You're pretty"), let out a high-pitched giggle, and then just sit there for a bit. Every pause I hoped that he would just wander away, but no luck. After about five minutes and goodness knows how many lies (I have a boyfriend! I don't have a phone! My train's leaving in half an hour!) I gave up.
Paco, my first persistent suitor and the only one I captured on camera.
Annoyed, I left the beach and decided to find the hostel to drop off a few things. I made it there with minimal problems and it turned out to be much nicer than I expected! There was a large kitchen, several bathrooms, and it was perfectly clean.
My room in the hostel. Turns out there were only three of us there, all traveling alone (it's the tourist off-season right now) which was a nice bonus.
That night, I didn't have anything to do so I went out with a Canadian student from my hostel. We went to a random bar near the Plaza de Merced and ended up having drinks with a guy from Maryland, a guy from England, a guy from Lithuania, and a guy from Taiwan. It was incredibly fun and very random.
The next day, I woke up, checked out of the hostel, and went to the Cathedral of Malaga. I know, I know, I do the exact same things in every town-- Muslim palace, castle, park, cathedral. It's always fun though!
My goodness, this cathedral was huuuuge (as cathedrals tend to be).
The inside of the cathedral. Lots of gold leaf, paintings, and marble.
I know this is a solemn memorial for some church official, but I can't take it seriously. He's all "No, what are YOU thinking about?" Why would they sculpt him lazily reclining?
There is not a city in Spain that does not have at least 10 crying Marys in it. I can state that with absolute confidence.
Then I left the cathedral because an overwhelming swarm of Dutch tourists had arrived and went the bullfighting ring. On my way, I encountered even more hassling from random dudes on the street (harmless, just shouted compliments). Spanish men just love my particular brand of surly, disheveled paleness I guess.
The Plaza de Toros. It looks pretty much identical to the bullfighting ring in Seville, which makes me think there might be a specific design that they all follow?
My feet were getting tired and I had plenty of time to kill, so I decided to return to the beach. I made sure to set up camp in a different spot than the day before, as to avoid running into Paco. Again, I laid there contentedly for about an hour before disaster struck. Another Spanish dude was standing over me. He immediately proceeded to lay on all the moves in his arsenal, in this order:
- Asked me if I was sleeping-- I lie and say yes, but he doesn't really mind that he is obviously bothering me
- Asked me if I have a boyfriend-- I obviously lie and say that I do, but he is undeterred and sits down next to me anyways
- Asked me to come smoke weed with him-- I say no and start packing my bag with all possible speed
- Complimented my feet-- I laugh uncomfortably and mentally congratulate him on being creepier than Paco
- Asked me for my number-- I lie and say I don't have a phone in Spain because it's too expensive
- Told me how much he loves foreign women-- To this, I don't reply at all, still focusing on packing without getting sand all over everything I own
- Asked my name-- I give him the fake name I've prepared for such situations (Megan Wilson, by the way)
- Complimented my feet again-- What is this guy's deal? I rapidly put on my shoes and socks
- Made me take off my sunglasses, then told me that he'll remember my eyes forever- Wow, smoooooth. I say my train is leaving very soon and I have to go, unfortunately
- Sang me a song with my fake name inserted at various points- Be still, my heart! At this point I have shoes on and am about to stand up
- Tried to kiss me as I'm leaving- Oh, you'd better believe that I wasn't having any of that despite his best efforts
After that I promptly start yelling him at him in an unholy mixture of English and Spanish and leave. He still yells after me "I'll love you forever!"
Well, the beach is no longer an option, because it's overrun by the sketchiest dudes in all of Spain. There wasn't much left on my list to do but my train didn't leave until 8:00, so I decided to check out a few museums. First on the list was the Museum of Contemporary Art. I know what you're thinking-- Laura, we've already established that you can't stand modern art, you idiot. But it was free and I had nothing else to do, so off I went.
One of the masterpieces in the museum. I have simply GOT to get into this whole "modern art" business. Here, I drew three lines on this piece of paper and call it "Prom Date", pay me thousands of dollars.
Wait, which one of you let a legitimate work of art into the Museum of Contemporary Art? YOU'RE FIRED!
I still had several hours to kill and there was no way I was going back to the beach, so I decided to go to whichever museum was close and open. That led me to the Malaga Museum of Wine. I learned a bit about the process of creating wine and got to taste authentic Malaga vino dulce, so in conclusion it was probably the best museum I went to the whole trip. (Sorry, Contemporary Art, maybe if you included free drinks you'd stand a chance.)
The outside of the museum.
That's it! Now I must be going-- I found a bunch of 30 Rock episodes online and I need to watch them immediately.
This blog post is dedicated to Oma and Jeannie, since I missed our Skype date. Worst relative ever?
This past weekend, I took a two-day trip by myself to Malaga, a small city on the coast of southern Spain. I woke up at the crack of dawn to catch my train and arrived in Malaga by 10:00 a.m. The weather was absolutely perfect, which was nice considering the constant rain we've been getting in Seville. I grabbed a map from the tourist's office before deciding to wander around for a bit. (Surprised? "Wander" is probably my most often-used word on here... besides maybe "food".)
A huge statue in the main square. No idea who it is though... I probably should have bothered to read it. Based on my knowledge of the town, I'm going to hazard a guess that it's Picasso. They LOVE Picasso.
The Ayuntamiento (Town Hall) of Malaga, which is beautiful, vaguely yellow, and about fifty feet from the beach. I'll become a Spanish politician if it means I can work there!
I took a picture of this sign (which says "street under construction", more or less) to represent the ridiculous amount of construction in Malaga. There are cranes everywhere, and there isn't a block without something going on.
The Plaza de Merced, which actually turned out to be about two minutes from my hostel.
After exploring for an hour and enjoying the wide variety of street performers, I decided to check out the city's main attraction: the Alcazaba, an ancient Muslim palace built high up on a hill. It was awesome because there were lots of random stone staircases and you could climb on just about everything. And climb I did!
One of the many gardens of the Alcazaba. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and there were even butterflies milling around. It was preposterously pleasant.
The Patio of the Oranges in the Alcazaba. Wow, beautiful gardens and patios... I'm just now realizing this is basically just Alhambra Part Deux.
Some cool Muslim architecture within the Alcazaba. I want something exactly like this in my next apartment.
They also had a special exposition of ancient pottery within the Alcazaba, which I pretended to be interested in.
After I finished climbing around the Alcazaba, I trudged up the giant hill to the Castle of Gibralfaro. It was used as a military fortress and played a key part in the city's defense hundreds of years ago. Now, it pretty much just makes tourists sweaty and tired.
A picture from the highest point in the town of Malaga. I actually have dozens of pictures from varying points on the walk up, because that sucker was steep and I needed any excuse to rest.
The ancient Roman theater, right next to the Alcazaba.
I then enjoyed (well, "enjoyed" might be too strong of a word) a variety of Picasso-related activities. He was born in Malaga and lived there for a short time before leaving to study art, so they're crazy about him. I visited the house where he was born, the church he was baptized in, the building where he went to school, and even ran into a random place where he apparently lived for a few months.
A picture of Picasso from when he was young. How cute! This was the only picture I managed to take in the house before being yelled at to stop. I swear, I get yelled at here at least once every day.
Then I walked to the official Picasso museum. I really don't know what I was expecting, seeing as I am definitely not a Picasso fan. To be honest, pretty much all abstract art is the same to me: uninteresting and unimpressive. But I was in Malaga, and it was my duty as a tourist to go.
This was probably my favorite painting in the museum, because I can at least somewhat understand it and there are bright colors.
After leaving the museum I headed to the beach, because I wanted to take advantage of the weather. Plus, I was sick of museums and ain't no way the beach isn't going to be 100% fun!
A sculpture (stone, not sand) on the Malagueta beach.
I love the beach!
Unfortunately my peace was interrupted after about an hour of relaxation. I was wearing headphones and trying to sleep when I felt someone looming over me. Ah, delightful, a young Spanish man! I assumed he wanted to move because he and his friends were going to use the space for a soccer game, but no. He plopped down beside me and we had what was probably the most stilted conversation I've ever had. He would say something (mostly just "You're pretty"), let out a high-pitched giggle, and then just sit there for a bit. Every pause I hoped that he would just wander away, but no luck. After about five minutes and goodness knows how many lies (I have a boyfriend! I don't have a phone! My train's leaving in half an hour!) I gave up.
Paco, my first persistent suitor and the only one I captured on camera.
Annoyed, I left the beach and decided to find the hostel to drop off a few things. I made it there with minimal problems and it turned out to be much nicer than I expected! There was a large kitchen, several bathrooms, and it was perfectly clean.
My room in the hostel. Turns out there were only three of us there, all traveling alone (it's the tourist off-season right now) which was a nice bonus.
That night, I didn't have anything to do so I went out with a Canadian student from my hostel. We went to a random bar near the Plaza de Merced and ended up having drinks with a guy from Maryland, a guy from England, a guy from Lithuania, and a guy from Taiwan. It was incredibly fun and very random.
The next day, I woke up, checked out of the hostel, and went to the Cathedral of Malaga. I know, I know, I do the exact same things in every town-- Muslim palace, castle, park, cathedral. It's always fun though!
My goodness, this cathedral was huuuuge (as cathedrals tend to be).
The inside of the cathedral. Lots of gold leaf, paintings, and marble.
I know this is a solemn memorial for some church official, but I can't take it seriously. He's all "No, what are YOU thinking about?" Why would they sculpt him lazily reclining?
There is not a city in Spain that does not have at least 10 crying Marys in it. I can state that with absolute confidence.
Then I left the cathedral because an overwhelming swarm of Dutch tourists had arrived and went the bullfighting ring. On my way, I encountered even more hassling from random dudes on the street (harmless, just shouted compliments). Spanish men just love my particular brand of surly, disheveled paleness I guess.
The Plaza de Toros. It looks pretty much identical to the bullfighting ring in Seville, which makes me think there might be a specific design that they all follow?
My feet were getting tired and I had plenty of time to kill, so I decided to return to the beach. I made sure to set up camp in a different spot than the day before, as to avoid running into Paco. Again, I laid there contentedly for about an hour before disaster struck. Another Spanish dude was standing over me. He immediately proceeded to lay on all the moves in his arsenal, in this order:
- Asked me if I was sleeping-- I lie and say yes, but he doesn't really mind that he is obviously bothering me
- Asked me if I have a boyfriend-- I obviously lie and say that I do, but he is undeterred and sits down next to me anyways
- Asked me to come smoke weed with him-- I say no and start packing my bag with all possible speed
- Complimented my feet-- I laugh uncomfortably and mentally congratulate him on being creepier than Paco
- Asked me for my number-- I lie and say I don't have a phone in Spain because it's too expensive
- Told me how much he loves foreign women-- To this, I don't reply at all, still focusing on packing without getting sand all over everything I own
- Asked my name-- I give him the fake name I've prepared for such situations (Megan Wilson, by the way)
- Complimented my feet again-- What is this guy's deal? I rapidly put on my shoes and socks
- Made me take off my sunglasses, then told me that he'll remember my eyes forever- Wow, smoooooth. I say my train is leaving very soon and I have to go, unfortunately
- Sang me a song with my fake name inserted at various points- Be still, my heart! At this point I have shoes on and am about to stand up
- Tried to kiss me as I'm leaving- Oh, you'd better believe that I wasn't having any of that despite his best efforts
After that I promptly start yelling him at him in an unholy mixture of English and Spanish and leave. He still yells after me "I'll love you forever!"
Well, the beach is no longer an option, because it's overrun by the sketchiest dudes in all of Spain. There wasn't much left on my list to do but my train didn't leave until 8:00, so I decided to check out a few museums. First on the list was the Museum of Contemporary Art. I know what you're thinking-- Laura, we've already established that you can't stand modern art, you idiot. But it was free and I had nothing else to do, so off I went.
One of the masterpieces in the museum. I have simply GOT to get into this whole "modern art" business. Here, I drew three lines on this piece of paper and call it "Prom Date", pay me thousands of dollars.
Wait, which one of you let a legitimate work of art into the Museum of Contemporary Art? YOU'RE FIRED!
I still had several hours to kill and there was no way I was going back to the beach, so I decided to go to whichever museum was close and open. That led me to the Malaga Museum of Wine. I learned a bit about the process of creating wine and got to taste authentic Malaga vino dulce, so in conclusion it was probably the best museum I went to the whole trip. (Sorry, Contemporary Art, maybe if you included free drinks you'd stand a chance.)
The outside of the museum.
That's it! Now I must be going-- I found a bunch of 30 Rock episodes online and I need to watch them immediately.
This blog post is dedicated to Oma and Jeannie, since I missed our Skype date. Worst relative ever?
Granada Trip, or OH MY GOD THE HOTEL HAS A BUFFET
I apologize, my dear readers, I've fallen about a week behind on blog updates. To be fair, though, I've been traveling like mad lately and am Lili Von Schtupp-level tired as a result. Now that I think about it, over the past two weeks I've been in six cities, three countries, two continents, the Atlantic Ocean, and the Mediterranean Sea. Wow. But since I'm keeping them chronological, let's talk Granada!
FUN FACT #1: Did you know that in Spanish, "granada" means both "pomegranate" and "grenade"?
This past weekend my study abroad program took us to Granada, a mountainous city in southern Spain. On Saturday morning, less than 12 hours after getting back from Gibraltar, we left Seville by bus. We arrived at the hotel around noon and descended like locusts upon the buffet. After two months living with our host families and eating unusual foods at unusual times, everyone in the program was giddy with excitement. As for me, I took the "all you can eat" label seriously. I not only had to unbutton my pants, but also I think my stomach may have reached a size where it displaced some other organs. I regret nothing!
My friend Emme, thoroughly enjoying the ice cream. This is actually the only picture I have of the buffet area because it was the only time I pried myself away from the food. They had pork ribs, how can you blame me?
After lunch, we split up into small groups and were assigned tour guides. The first Granada attraction that we visited was the Alhambra, a tremendous palace and fortress complex constructed in the mid-14th century by the Muslim rulers of Andalusia.
One of the many, many elaborate gardens in the Alhambra. The hedges are so thick that they are actually sound-proof.
Fun fact #2: Muslims believe that paradise is a giant garden. Probably because they never visited our hotel's buffet AM I RIGHT?
A patio that was used in the 14th century as a waiting area for those wanting an audience with the king. Beautiful! If there's one thing that Muslim architects could do, it's patios.
Another palace in the Alhambra, built during the Renaissance. (As we all know, one palace is never enough. They're like potato chips.) There's a wide variety of architectural styles in the Alhambra, which is very cool to see up close.
This is the ceiling of one of the rooms. It isn't even the coolest ceiling there. Everything in the Alhambra is this detailed-- ceilings, floors, walls, etc. You name it, it's covered in intricate geometric shapes.
Next we walked over to El Generalife (pronounced hen-er-al-LEE-fay), a nearby palace also built during the 14th century. It's right next to the Alhambra, is filled with fountains and gardens, and was mainly used by the monarchy while hunting and during the hot summer months.
Yeah, you see that tremendous palace/fortress complex right over there? Hate to break it to you, but it's just too darn TOASTY. Build me another palace like 50 yards away, slaves!
A view of the city from the Generalife. Classic Spanish architecture-- tile roofs, white houses with random spots of color, and a lack of basic city planning. Come on, they have streets that are like 15 feet long and two feet wide!
After finishing our visit to the Generalife, we had a few hours of free time. Most people went to get Arabic tea, but seeing as I don't like tea I went to the Granada Cathedral instead. I've seen quite a few cathedrals in my time here and was expecting to be bored, but it turned out to be one of the most interesting cathedrals I've seen. It's smaller than the cathedral in Seville, but also less overwhelming.
The space above the altar. As always, pictures cannot capture the grand scale of the cathedral-- it's GIGANTIC. I sat in the front row of the pews just trying to take everything in for about 15 minutes.
I really like this organ as well-- it looks like it has wings.
After leaving the cathedral, we still had about an hour to kill before dinner at the hotel (ALSO A BUFFET GOD YES). Ramya and I decided to hit up the Museum of Contemporary Art because it was close and our program guides recommended it. Huge mistake. It was essentially three floors of weird, nonsensical videos. In one, a man painted a room different colors. In another, a man painted himself different colors. In one, there were just random geometric shapes. The worst was epileptic seizure fuel, and the best was still hilariously terrible.
See the one second to the right? I decided to watch it because it had headphones and I thought sound would make it more interesting. Nope, it's a man going through a bunch of paint swatches and occasionally reading a name in a monotone voice.
"Seafoam Blue.............. Deep Blue.............. Oceanside.......................... Marine Blue......................."
The next day, we did three main activities:
1. Walking through the historical neighborhood of Albaicin
2. Visiting the Capilla Real, where the Catholic Monarchs are buried
3. Shopping in the traditional Muslim market
Hanging out outside the Church of Saint Nicolas (yes, that's right, Santa!) with the Alhambra in the background. Also, this picture serves as proof that I have friends here.
The Capilla Real is absolutely stunning and looks much like the cathedral, but pictures are forbidden and there are guards milling around keeping watch. I managed to get this one picture of the actual tombs, which are underground.
Fun Fact #3: Did you know that both of the Reyes Catolicos (Isabel and Fernando) were apparently EXTREMELY unattractive?
Decorative pillowcases in one of the shops. Many of the shops in Granada were practically identical to the shops we visited in Morocco, probably because Granada was the last Muslim capital city in Spain. I don't think haggling is typical there, however, which makes shopping at least 40% less fun.
There were also lots of people selling Arabic goods on the street.
After finishing our shopping, we returned to the hotel for one last buffet lunch (oh, how I miss thee) and boarded the bus to head back to Seville. All in all, a very enjoyable trip despite the occasional steep hill we had to climb. Although the weather wasn't great, I still give Granada an A -- if you get the opportunity to go, you absolutely should.
This blog post is dedicated to Aunt Anne, because she sent me an e-mail as I was finishing this post. Glad you like it!
COMING SOON: "Things I Hate About Spain" and "Malaga Trip"
FUN FACT #1: Did you know that in Spanish, "granada" means both "pomegranate" and "grenade"?
This past weekend my study abroad program took us to Granada, a mountainous city in southern Spain. On Saturday morning, less than 12 hours after getting back from Gibraltar, we left Seville by bus. We arrived at the hotel around noon and descended like locusts upon the buffet. After two months living with our host families and eating unusual foods at unusual times, everyone in the program was giddy with excitement. As for me, I took the "all you can eat" label seriously. I not only had to unbutton my pants, but also I think my stomach may have reached a size where it displaced some other organs. I regret nothing!
My friend Emme, thoroughly enjoying the ice cream. This is actually the only picture I have of the buffet area because it was the only time I pried myself away from the food. They had pork ribs, how can you blame me?
After lunch, we split up into small groups and were assigned tour guides. The first Granada attraction that we visited was the Alhambra, a tremendous palace and fortress complex constructed in the mid-14th century by the Muslim rulers of Andalusia.
One of the many, many elaborate gardens in the Alhambra. The hedges are so thick that they are actually sound-proof.
Fun fact #2: Muslims believe that paradise is a giant garden. Probably because they never visited our hotel's buffet AM I RIGHT?
A patio that was used in the 14th century as a waiting area for those wanting an audience with the king. Beautiful! If there's one thing that Muslim architects could do, it's patios.
Another palace in the Alhambra, built during the Renaissance. (As we all know, one palace is never enough. They're like potato chips.) There's a wide variety of architectural styles in the Alhambra, which is very cool to see up close.
This is the ceiling of one of the rooms. It isn't even the coolest ceiling there. Everything in the Alhambra is this detailed-- ceilings, floors, walls, etc. You name it, it's covered in intricate geometric shapes.
Next we walked over to El Generalife (pronounced hen-er-al-LEE-fay), a nearby palace also built during the 14th century. It's right next to the Alhambra, is filled with fountains and gardens, and was mainly used by the monarchy while hunting and during the hot summer months.
Yeah, you see that tremendous palace/fortress complex right over there? Hate to break it to you, but it's just too darn TOASTY. Build me another palace like 50 yards away, slaves!
A view of the city from the Generalife. Classic Spanish architecture-- tile roofs, white houses with random spots of color, and a lack of basic city planning. Come on, they have streets that are like 15 feet long and two feet wide!
After finishing our visit to the Generalife, we had a few hours of free time. Most people went to get Arabic tea, but seeing as I don't like tea I went to the Granada Cathedral instead. I've seen quite a few cathedrals in my time here and was expecting to be bored, but it turned out to be one of the most interesting cathedrals I've seen. It's smaller than the cathedral in Seville, but also less overwhelming.
The space above the altar. As always, pictures cannot capture the grand scale of the cathedral-- it's GIGANTIC. I sat in the front row of the pews just trying to take everything in for about 15 minutes.
I really like this organ as well-- it looks like it has wings.
After leaving the cathedral, we still had about an hour to kill before dinner at the hotel (ALSO A BUFFET GOD YES). Ramya and I decided to hit up the Museum of Contemporary Art because it was close and our program guides recommended it. Huge mistake. It was essentially three floors of weird, nonsensical videos. In one, a man painted a room different colors. In another, a man painted himself different colors. In one, there were just random geometric shapes. The worst was epileptic seizure fuel, and the best was still hilariously terrible.
See the one second to the right? I decided to watch it because it had headphones and I thought sound would make it more interesting. Nope, it's a man going through a bunch of paint swatches and occasionally reading a name in a monotone voice.
"Seafoam Blue.............. Deep Blue.............. Oceanside.......................... Marine Blue......................."
The next day, we did three main activities:
1. Walking through the historical neighborhood of Albaicin
2. Visiting the Capilla Real, where the Catholic Monarchs are buried
3. Shopping in the traditional Muslim market
Hanging out outside the Church of Saint Nicolas (yes, that's right, Santa!) with the Alhambra in the background. Also, this picture serves as proof that I have friends here.
The Capilla Real is absolutely stunning and looks much like the cathedral, but pictures are forbidden and there are guards milling around keeping watch. I managed to get this one picture of the actual tombs, which are underground.
Fun Fact #3: Did you know that both of the Reyes Catolicos (Isabel and Fernando) were apparently EXTREMELY unattractive?
Decorative pillowcases in one of the shops. Many of the shops in Granada were practically identical to the shops we visited in Morocco, probably because Granada was the last Muslim capital city in Spain. I don't think haggling is typical there, however, which makes shopping at least 40% less fun.
There were also lots of people selling Arabic goods on the street.
After finishing our shopping, we returned to the hotel for one last buffet lunch (oh, how I miss thee) and boarded the bus to head back to Seville. All in all, a very enjoyable trip despite the occasional steep hill we had to climb. Although the weather wasn't great, I still give Granada an A -- if you get the opportunity to go, you absolutely should.
This blog post is dedicated to Aunt Anne, because she sent me an e-mail as I was finishing this post. Glad you like it!
COMING SOON: "Things I Hate About Spain" and "Malaga Trip"
Gibraltar Trip: Bloody Brilliant, Mate!
As most of you know, I'm going to be traveling around Europe for a month after my study abroad program ends in May. I'm hitting up nine or so countries, but I don't have the time or the money to make it to the United Kingdom. Luckily for me, Spain has a little chunk of the UK in its lower-right corner called Gibraltar. Double luckily for me, a day trip to Gibraltar was included as part of my study abroad program. That's simply smashing, love!
Note: I highly recommend reading this entire entry to yourself in a British accent.
Note 2: One of my goals for this blog post is to avoid using the pun "Gibraltar ROCKS". We will see if I can make it through without succumbing.
This past Friday, we loaded onto a bus and made the three-hour drive to Gibraltar. After going through the most laid-back customs procedure ever (wave your passport in the general direction of a guard who's barely paying attention), we crossed the runway* and headed to the Gibraltar Chamber of Commerce. There, we were given a PowerPoint presentation about the history and economy of Gibraltar from a very jolly British man. Delightful!
The rock of Gibraltar is incredibly impressive/foreboding in real life. I want to know who first saw that looming mountain and was like, "Yeah that looks like a great place to live!"
This overhead view of Gibraltar is a picture of a picture in the Gibraltar customs office. The population of Gibraltar is about 28,000 people and they live in about four square kilometers of land. As you can imagine, traffic is terrible.
*To get to the main part of Gibraltar, you have to walk across a runway. Yes, a functioning airport runway. You have to stop and wait for about ten minutes every time a plane takes off or lands. There are signs everywhere warning you not to drop anything because you could cause the plane to crash. Who designed this stupid island?
Not the best picture, but this is the delightful chap who gave us the information session. Even when he was talking about the volume of freighters that come through Gibraltar's port every year, I was still hanging onto every word because that accent is AMAZING!
A VERY Brief History of Gibraltar
In the early 1700s, some British sailors were returning from a very unsuccessful trip to Italy. Not wanting to come home empty-handed, they stopped at Gibraltar and claimed it for England. Though Spain technically ceded the territory in a 1713 treaty, they've been trying to get it back ever since, and neither side will shut the hell up about whose it is. Right now it is officially a "British overseas territory", and most Gibraltarians prefer that it stays that way.
After the information session, we had a bit of free time to explore the city. Unfortunately, our bus was late arriving that morning and there wasn't quite enough time to go up to the top of the Rock of Gibraltar. (So no monkeys on this trip, but don't fret as I've already scheduled a return trip in April. I'll hang out with some dang monkeys if it's the last thing I do!) Instead, we went to some museums and wandered around taking pictures.
Have you noticed a theme yet? Basically every place I go my initial plans don't work out, so I just mill around taking photos of everything. Hey, I'm not complaining, it's still awesome!
A dilapidated building built into the side of the rock. I don't know why, but this picture reminds me of Jurassic Park.
We went to a glass-blowing museum and watched the workers there make a vase. Amazing! Considering that I can barely make a sandwich properly, watching someone craft molten hot glass into something useful was particularly impressive.
After the glass-blowing museum, we visited a small art gallery.
Obviously I was going to try honest-to-goodness UK fish and chips! It was everything I had ever hoped for. Note that the fish there, the one that is over a foot long, is a "medium". What's the large, a dolphin?
The red phone booths actually exist in real life! How positively charming! (Also, can I just say that I'm looking forward to the weather improving? I'm so pale it looks like I'm emitting light in this picture.)
It's like they're just BRAGGING about how British they are, seriously.
This storefront is essentially a giant wall of alcohol (an "alco-wall", if you will). Since Spaniards tend to come here to buy cheap booze and cigarettes, the city is absolutely full of liquor stores. They have monstrous bottles of Jack Daniels that are the size of a fire hydrant, it's unbelievable.
After spending a good amount of time in tourist shops, I can say with complete certainty that Gibraltar wins the award for most ape-related merchandise.
Overall, our day trip to Gibraltar was a lot of fun and I can't wait to go back and see everything I didn't have time for. I give it a solid B+, with the option of grade revision once I see the monkeys and all of the other tourist attractions on the rock. Oh, and this blog post is dedicated to Ramya's parents. I'm really excited to meet you both!
Note: I highly recommend reading this entire entry to yourself in a British accent.
Note 2: One of my goals for this blog post is to avoid using the pun "Gibraltar ROCKS". We will see if I can make it through without succumbing.
This past Friday, we loaded onto a bus and made the three-hour drive to Gibraltar. After going through the most laid-back customs procedure ever (wave your passport in the general direction of a guard who's barely paying attention), we crossed the runway* and headed to the Gibraltar Chamber of Commerce. There, we were given a PowerPoint presentation about the history and economy of Gibraltar from a very jolly British man. Delightful!
The rock of Gibraltar is incredibly impressive/foreboding in real life. I want to know who first saw that looming mountain and was like, "Yeah that looks like a great place to live!"
This overhead view of Gibraltar is a picture of a picture in the Gibraltar customs office. The population of Gibraltar is about 28,000 people and they live in about four square kilometers of land. As you can imagine, traffic is terrible.
*To get to the main part of Gibraltar, you have to walk across a runway. Yes, a functioning airport runway. You have to stop and wait for about ten minutes every time a plane takes off or lands. There are signs everywhere warning you not to drop anything because you could cause the plane to crash. Who designed this stupid island?
Not the best picture, but this is the delightful chap who gave us the information session. Even when he was talking about the volume of freighters that come through Gibraltar's port every year, I was still hanging onto every word because that accent is AMAZING!
A VERY Brief History of Gibraltar
In the early 1700s, some British sailors were returning from a very unsuccessful trip to Italy. Not wanting to come home empty-handed, they stopped at Gibraltar and claimed it for England. Though Spain technically ceded the territory in a 1713 treaty, they've been trying to get it back ever since, and neither side will shut the hell up about whose it is. Right now it is officially a "British overseas territory", and most Gibraltarians prefer that it stays that way.
After the information session, we had a bit of free time to explore the city. Unfortunately, our bus was late arriving that morning and there wasn't quite enough time to go up to the top of the Rock of Gibraltar. (So no monkeys on this trip, but don't fret as I've already scheduled a return trip in April. I'll hang out with some dang monkeys if it's the last thing I do!) Instead, we went to some museums and wandered around taking pictures.
Have you noticed a theme yet? Basically every place I go my initial plans don't work out, so I just mill around taking photos of everything. Hey, I'm not complaining, it's still awesome!
A dilapidated building built into the side of the rock. I don't know why, but this picture reminds me of Jurassic Park.
We went to a glass-blowing museum and watched the workers there make a vase. Amazing! Considering that I can barely make a sandwich properly, watching someone craft molten hot glass into something useful was particularly impressive.
After the glass-blowing museum, we visited a small art gallery.
Obviously I was going to try honest-to-goodness UK fish and chips! It was everything I had ever hoped for. Note that the fish there, the one that is over a foot long, is a "medium". What's the large, a dolphin?
The red phone booths actually exist in real life! How positively charming! (Also, can I just say that I'm looking forward to the weather improving? I'm so pale it looks like I'm emitting light in this picture.)
It's like they're just BRAGGING about how British they are, seriously.
This storefront is essentially a giant wall of alcohol (an "alco-wall", if you will). Since Spaniards tend to come here to buy cheap booze and cigarettes, the city is absolutely full of liquor stores. They have monstrous bottles of Jack Daniels that are the size of a fire hydrant, it's unbelievable.
After spending a good amount of time in tourist shops, I can say with complete certainty that Gibraltar wins the award for most ape-related merchandise.
Overall, our day trip to Gibraltar was a lot of fun and I can't wait to go back and see everything I didn't have time for. I give it a solid B+, with the option of grade revision once I see the monkeys and all of the other tourist attractions on the rock. Oh, and this blog post is dedicated to Ramya's parents. I'm really excited to meet you both!
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