Torremolinos, Spain
This morning I woke up bright and early to do a little more studying, since today is the final exam. I felt fairly confident with it (and ended up getting a 90, which gave me a 91 in the course.) I also gave my oral presentation on Gibraltar beforehand.
I am getting pretty excited about going to Madrid, not just because of missing city life (I can’t say Madrid never sleeps, but I can say it only naps a bit from 3-6pm and then is wide awake all night long) but also because the Madrid dormitory has an actual washer and dryer.
Here, we’ve been washing our clothes in the sink and hanging them out to dry. At least, *I’ve* been washing them in the sink. My roommate has been talking about doing hers in the bidet, but whether she did, I’ll never know.
One thing to keep in mind about the cercanías (trains) from our hotel to get to Málaga, is that they are completely unlike the El (if you are from the Chicago area.) For example, whether you are trying to get on or off, the doors do not automatically open. You must press the “abrir” button, or you’ll be stuck on the other side. (Yes, this lesson was learned the hard way.)
Tonight Alison and I went out by ourselves. First, we went to a horse show called Ritmo a Caballo, featuring choreographed movement by riders in old, traditional Spanish outfits.
Aside from the hot, stuffy, no-air-circulating, crowded building, the show was really neat, excpet for one fact. Did I mention the hot, stuffy, no-air-circulating crowdedness? No, it’s not for me that I’m complaining (although I wasn’t loving it, either.) It’s for the horses. Halfway through the show, they were clearly panting and sweating, and a couple even had that white froth stuff on their backs (you can tell I have zero knowledge about horses because I don’t even know the word for this). So, my enjoyment of the show was greatly tempered by my concern for the treatment and well-being of the animals.
After the show, we went for dinner and a flamenco show at Feria del Sur. (Call me hypociritcal if you must, but I don’t mind if *people* get sweaty – they’re getting paid, and besides, they’re choosing to do so.) When we arrived, we each got a flower to wear (Alison tucked hers behind one ear, and I threaded mine through a button hole on my shirt) and a pre-dinner tapa, which was an extremely tasty tortilla (Spanish omelette.)
The tables were laden with wine, champagne, and sangria (oh, and water, how could I forget?) and since we were starving, we instantly tore into the bread on the table, which were tiny loaves individually wrapped in airtight plastic bags. (We also each took one to go.)
The main dish was paella (pronounced “pi-A-ya”). When the chefs had finished cooking, two servers brought a massive silver platter of paella out on stage to present for the approval of the guests, which was neat. Everyone cheered, the servers returned to the kitchen, and in a few minutes emerged with hot plates for everyone. (Ali and I got vegi versions, which were excellent.)
Right about the time dinner was served, the flamenco show began, and it was awesome! I *so* want to be a flamenco dancer. They say it takes a minimum of two years non-stop study in Andaluía to even learn the moves, and I can believe it. It looks powerful, beautiful, and fun.
