Seville, Spain

This morning, we piled in the bus and trekked to Sevilla. Seville has a population of 700,000, with another million if you count the suburbs. The only larger cities are Madrid and Barcelona. Out of Seville’s 700,000 city inhabitants: 50,000 are college students.

Two Roman emporers were born here in Seville. Amerigo Vespucci also lived here, as did Magellan.

The walls around the city were built by the Arabs, and the gate is called the Macarena. (And you thought it was just a song!) One week every spring, Seville has a flemenco festival.

Cartuja is the new section, with an island and bridges. There’s an amusement park open from 11 am until midnight. It has a section that’s a copy of the Seville harbor during the 16th century.

Valenque is a tent-covered square that actually has air conditioning. Concerts and the like are held here.

A mudéjar style Cathusian monestary here was converted into a ceramic factory by an Englishman. It has since been reconverted back into a church. St James is the patron saint of Spain and his festival is next week.

Seville has the famous bridge you may have read about in the Guinness book of world records. It’s long, flat, and with zero suspension. Oh yeah, and it’s not just foot traffic, either – our bus rolled right across it, and I amazingly lived to tell the tale.

The new bridge in Seville has a funny history. The bridge came first, and the water came second! Once the construction finished, they released the dams and put the river underneath the bridge.

I also saw the cacharro – a statue of Jesus on the cross. The sculptor witnessed a gypsy getting caught and killed on the street and captured the gypsy’s expression for the one on the face of christ.

The Plaza de Toros in Seville is one of the oldest in Spain. (But not *the* oldest – do you remember where that one was?) It is the bullring featured in the opera Carmen.

Seville also has two towers – the tower of silver and the tower of gold. Also, you may have seen the square on film – Lawrence of Arabia was filmed here, as were parts of Star Wars Episode II.

Seville has a monument dedicated to El Cid Campeador in front of the university, magnolia trees with big whilte flowers, and five remaining arches of a Roman aqueduct.

Kansas City, Missouri is the the sister city to Seville, and the name of the avenue to enter Seville for the airport. (That bit of info is for you Missourians, you know who you are.)

The Holy Cross square used to be a synangogue that (of course) was converted into a Catholic church. But then it caught fire and was destroyed and now a monument stands in its place.

Seville also boasts the largest gothic cathedral in the world. It has the mummified “el lagarto” (which is like a crocodile, but more about the size of a large iguana.) Interestingly, “el lagarto” sounds suspiciously like “alligator”. (Things that make you go hmmm…)

The tomb of Cristobal Colón (Christopher Columbus to us) is also in this cathedral. Next year marks the 500th year of his death. He died in Spain and his remains were in the church that became the old ceramic factory that later re-became a church. (You followed that, right?) When his son died in Seville, his widow took the remains of both father and son to the island of Santo Domingo. 200 years ago, Spain lost this island and moved the remains to Cuba for safe keeping. This turned out to be a bad plan, and in 1898, the remains (in terrible condition by this time) were brought back to Spain. Seville recently decided to DNA test everything that was left, so actually, Columbus is in a laboratory somewhere in Houston right now.

In this cathedral, there were lots of glass cases featuring the bones and other visible remains of various saints. As mentioned recently, this is the first time I ever knew people kept this sort of thing in churches for general viewing, and I am getting used to the idea, since in old European Catholic churches, it seems to be the norm. I also learned that the Catholics like to pray to the saints when they can see part of them. I’m guessing this is to feel a connection with the person. (If you’re Catholic and you have some insight on this, please confirm or deny).

This Church has a huge baptism chapel, which is still in use. Just two days ago, some kids were baptised. The walls are adorned with paintings by Murillo. On one, someone cut out the saint and stole it. This was back in the 19th century. years later, someone came across it in the black market. (What they were doing perusing the black market and how they recognized a piece of this random painting, hard to say.) So, it found its way back to Spain. I can clearly see the marks where a big rectangle was cut apart and put back together.

I also climbed 35 floors to the top of the Giralda tower, which has a magnificent view. Afterwards, I ate some ice cream at Rayas, which was delish. Europe not only has a sweet tooth, but very specifically has tons of ice cream.

Tonight we went to a (choreographed) flamenco show, and although it was well-executed and entertaining, I enjoyed the gypsy flamenco much better. Also, the theater we were at tonight had us sitting thigh-to-thigh with the person next to us. People were smoking and ordering drinks, even during the performance. (The girl to my right got a vodka and fanta. Ew.)

I won’t name any names since this is the Internet and all, but there was one girl on the trip who cracked me up continuously because she was always saying the zaniest things. First of all, she said she disliked Spanish cuisine because there weren’t any twizzlers, and she likes to eat a pound a week. (???) She was going to pack five pounds of twizzlers in her carry-on, but she knew she’d eat them all the first week she was here. (!!!) Also, when I asked her if she knew what we were doing tomorrow, she said “Yep – we’re going to see Dante’s windmills.” I blinked, and when I realized what she meant, I cracked up laughing until I got the hiccups (which didn’t faze her in the least, so she must get that a lot.) “Actually,” I mention casually when I finally catch my breath. “I believe Dante is known more for his Inferno. Maybe we’re going to see Don Quixote’s windmills.” (To which she said, “Whatever. All I really want to do is go to the movies, because I’m a big fan of the Fabulous Four.”)

Tags: cathedrals, festivals & fiestas, music & concerts, random facts & history, theme parks

Grenada, Andalucía, Spain

This morning, I packed up and headed out for my four day Andalucia excursion (through the school). I had the choice of Andalucia or Barcelona, and since I plan to hit Barcelona later, I chose Andalucia.

The first stop was Grenada. We checked into our hotel rooms and I went walking around the city. I hopeed on a bus and got out at the Science Museum. It was pretty cool. There was an entire exhibit on Velociraptor. (For those of you aware of my dinophilia, you can imagine the gravitational pull that flung me into this room.)

Velociraptor is in the Dromaesaundae family. So what, you say? Well. This family includes dromaeosaurus and deinonychus, and in 1999, a dromaeosaurus was unearthed with *feathers*. This was probably to regulate body temperature and means that it is extremely likely that Deinonychus and Velociraptor also had feathers. (Kind of changes the whole Jurassic Park imagery a bit, doesn’t it.)

Scientists have long suspected that birds are descendents of dinosaurs, and this is just another nod in that direction.

In the hands-on section of the museum, I did an experiment with a beach ball hovering over an air jet, and was surprised to verify that I could not easily knock it off course.

I also learned about hermetism, introduced to Europe by the Arabs. In the middle ages, doctors looked to the stars to determine the most auspicious times for treatments. (I also learned the Spanish words for several types of trees and unusual animals, but I won’t bore you with all that here.)

The Sierra Nevada is the mountain range you see in Granada. Usually there is snow at the peaks, but this summer has been so hot that it all melted.

Tonight I got to go to the caves and experience gypsy flamenco. It was incredible, and I am forever ruined for all future choreographed flamenco shows by having seen how much soul the gypsies infuse into every movement.

This was also the day I realized all the photos I was taking with my digital camera were blurry – the autofocus stopped working. (I was later to find out that most of the photos I had taken for the past week or so were also blurry, so I only have about 20% usable, if that, of the pictures I had thought I’d taken. I do still have my video camera which does take digital pictures, but very few and of smaller size and poorer quality. I’m not even sure they’d make a 4×6 print.)

Those who know me well can just imagine how devestating this was for me – no camera and no clear photos. No sir, I didn’t like it.

Tags: museums, music & concerts, random facts & history

Segovia, Spain

This morning I woke up bright and early and boarded the bus for Segovia. Don Pelayo, the first king of Spain/Asturias, battled and won against the Arabs and lived in Segovia Castle. This castle is the one Disney modeled Beauty & The Beast after. I asked one of the girls in my class if she would take my photo in front of the castle. She did… but she didn’t get the castle in the photo. (She even cut off part of my head. I never asked her again – maybe that was her ploy.)

The first record of the castle is from the 12th century, when it was used by the Castillian royalty. It was abandoned from the 14th-18th century and most of what you see now is reconstruction due to the damage.

Segovia has a large Roman aqueduct. The legend behind it goes like this. Once there was a maid who every day had to trudge to and from the water, staggering under load after load of heavy pails. One day, she was so tired and frustrated that she cried out, “I’d sell my soul to the devil if he could build a water system by tomorrow!”

Naturally, the devil’s ears perked right up and he immediately set to work. The maid realized belatedly that she had just doomed herself to hell for eternity (although she was getting a killer aqueduct out of the deal) so she fell to her knees and began to pray for forgiveness. Lucky for her, God was feeling benevolent, and good-naturedly brought the first rays of sunrise over the horizon several minutes early, just before the devil set the last brick in place.

The cathedral of Segovia is the last gothic cathedral in Spain. “Graviado” is an intricate style of decoration from the Arabs, who according to their religion cannot recreate human figures. San Frutos is the patron saint of Segovia. Legend has it that once a year, the statue of San Frutos in front of the cathedral turns one page of the book in his hands, symbolizing his belief in the importance of education.

If you look along the horizon, you can make out a face in the landscape. This is The Lady of The Mountain, who also has a legend. Once, there were two warring families from either side of the mountain. The youngest child of one was a boy, the other a girl. One day, they chanced to meet and fell madly in love. All they wanted was to live together in peace. However, their families soon discovered their secret romance and a fierce battle ensued. During the battle, the girl tried to escape to her beloved. When the dust settled, the boy found the girl lying dead in the crossfire. Grief stricken, he carried her body high up the mountain and her sad face lingers there forevermore.

The St. Martin’s church has three kinds of construction: stone, brick, and rubble wall. The library next door used to be the jail.

The famous dessert of Segovia is torta ponche. It is a pastry filled with cream and cinnamon and drizzled with egg yolk. (It sounded good until I got to the last bit, didn’t it. I tried it and it was OK, but I couldn’t get past the whole egg-yolk-instead-of-icing idea.)

After we got back from Segovia, we showed and changed, and 5 of us headed out to see the Enrique & Estrella Morente flamenco show we’d bought tickets for. Adam and Shannon came along to see if they could score tickets at the gate. Only four people are allowed in a taxi, so the first four went ahead and I waiting with Adam and Shannon to flag the next taxi. The first two didn’t take us because they didn’t know how to get to the auditorium, but the third taxi said no problem, he knew exactly how to get there. He lied. 14E and an hour later, we finally roll up 15 minutes after show time. The show is sold out, so Adam and Shannon walk off in search of adventure elsewhere. I get stopped at the gate – I can’t go in because I have a camera. Maybe I can check it at the will call. So I go to the desk – no luck. The show is sold out and all the seats are full, so she’s locking up and going home. Frustrated, I finally end up selling my ticket for face value (although there was a swarm of people wanting in, so I probably could’ve named my price) and I headed back to the curb to flag a return taxi. About this time, Adam and Shannon show back up. What they had thought was a bar down the street was actually a private house party with loud music, so they had nothing going on. I tell them my sob story, and they offer to take my camera back to the dorm for me. Figures. I told them thanks but I already sold the ticket since I thought they’d split. It was all very Gift of the Magi. We catch a cab back (who did know how to get to the school, so we returned in minutes – all dressed up and nowhere to go.)

Tags: castles & palaces, cathedrals, music & concerts, random facts & history

Madrid, Spain

Today brought another day of class, and a fascinating afternoon of being glued to my computer screen – working. Instead of just a couple hours, today I was plugged in from about 1pm to 10pm, with breaks for lunch and supper. Oh, and a small commercial break to play with my cell phone, which came in Spanish (and whose meager instruction manual was also in Spanish.) The screen did have a change-language option, the choices of which include the same ones as the ATM machines: Castellano, Catalan, Euskara, Galego. (All the dialects in the regions of Spain.)

The word “castellano” (cahs-tay-YAH-no) comes from “castilla”, or castle.

Professor Sobejano says that no one knows where the language spoken in the Basque region originated. He says although the other “languages” could be considered dialects or at least derivatives, what the Basques speak is as different From Spanish as Chinese is.

Random Facts:

* Juan Carlos helped establish the democracy in Spain.

* Plaza de Colon is Madrid’s largest Square.

* Puerta del Sol has the clock that counts down New Years. (Remember the “grapes” tradition?) It’s also the center of the city, and kilometer point zero for all highways.

Tonight, we went to Palacio, which is a club in what used to be (and arguably, still is) a palace. There’s sculptures, paintings, mirrored walls, and dance floors featuring different music, such as pop or Spanish. It was in this latter room where I got twirled around by a Spanish guy who knew what to do much better than I did. It was also in this room where Alison and I had the good fortune to hear someone other than Hotel Parasol’s Mario play the infamous yodeling song, which, when set to a house beat, was actually quite catchy. (Note: I have since learned that this is a Romanian club song by O-Zone called “Dragostea Din Tei.”)

Tags: castles & palaces, music & concerts, random facts & history

Madrid, Spain

On Tuesday, I woke up to find that since I had kept my laptop plugged in overnight, the converter had melted, Dalí-style. (Luckily I had a spare, since Stacy was nice enough to loan me hers before I left.)

Today was the first day in class, and I had the morning Art & Culture series, given in the Teatro (theater). After class let out, Kristin, Danielle and I headed downtown. Don Quixote signs were everywhere, since it’s the 400th anniversary. We stopped at Starbucks for some coffee (this was the only time I caved and indulged in non-European fare–must have been some leftover Americana in me from the Fourth) and then we swung by El Corte Ingles to pick up tickets for the zarzuela.

In case you didn’t know, zarzuela is a very Spanish form of theatre, comparable to the opera, but with a bit more acting/dialogue and dancing thrown in. We looked for and located the theatre and discovered it was right next to a vegetarian restaurant called Au Naturel.

We also visited the Thyssen museum, which rocked. To do a bit of name dropping, I got to see art by Monet, Renoir, Degas, Rubens, Rambrandt, Tintoretto, El Greco, Van Eyck, Van Cleve, Rafael, Van Gogh, Goya, Manet, Gaughin, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cezanne, Munch, Picasso, Felix Muller, Hopper, and Dalí. (Whew!) One of my favorite paintings was “Expulsion, Moon and Firelight”.

Next we were off to the cinema, I with my free ticket in hand. However, the queue was insane and wrapped around the block. Clearly, more passes had been distributed than there could possibly be room to sit. We ended up at a different theater to see Batman Begins, which I enjoyed. Since Spanish films are dubbed, whenever something important happened, I made sure to whisper what was going on to my classmates who didn’t speak Spanish.

Something interesting: the theater was like a Theatre. Our tickets were real tickets, complete with assigned seating and an usher to guide us to the right spot.

Tags: museums, music & concerts, theatre & shows

Madrid, Spain

This morning, the girls and I got up bright and early, ate a spot of breakfast (bread and OJ) and headed to El Rastro, a street market only open on Sunday mornings. There were a ton of vendors and tents, and even more people all milling about. I bought some souvenir t-shirts, and Danielle and Kristin got some jewelry and belly chains/scarves. Another classmate (who went seperately, not with one of the girls) was almost pickpocketed, but then again, he was in a crowded flea market, with his wallet shoved in the sideways-opening pocket of a pair of baggy basketball shorts. (Don’t try this.)

Danielle, Kristin and I grabbed a snack at a pandería – some fresh bread, shaped like a turtle. (Ack! I ate a turtle!)

We walked around some more, soaking up the sights. There were Candidate City signs everywhere – Madrid is very proud to be considered for this distinction.

We went back to the dorm for lunch, but decided to go out to dinner. Unfortunately, our U.S. mindset of suppertime was about 3 hours off from the Spanish culture’s. So, we ended up walking maybe 5 miles in 2 hours, all the way downtown from the campus, before any restaurants started opening. (FYI – 9pm is an “early” dinner, if you can find a restaurant that’s open.) We ended up grabbing paninis at the Cafe & Té, which turned out to be awesome and affordable.

Incidentally, this is also when I ordered an iced coffee in Spain for the first time. They brought me an espresso (hot!) and I discovered to my surprise that I was expeced to cool it off myself with the accompanying sidecar of ice.

Then we wandered into the Retiro Park, which is Madrid’s answer to Central Park, and of all the bizarre things to see, one of the “people” by the fountain was someone in a Piglet outfit. Yes, capital P, as in Winnie the Pooh. (???) Madrid also has, as far as they know, the only statue of the devil in the entire world. It is a monument depicting Lucifer the angel as he falls into hell. (A cheery little thing. You know, for kids.)

The park was amazing. We barely saw a fraction of it, and we saw the amphitheatre (which had a free concert in progress) and a huge rectangular lake filled with little paddleboats for rent.

There was tons of Quixote stuff up for the anniversary, and I even saw a sign with the most common Spain slang word – “vale”, which means OK. (Not “Ballet”, which is what one classmate initially thought they were saying.)

Tags: food, music & concerts, shopping, travel tips

Tangier, Morocco, Africa

This morning, we all woke up extra early, because today is the day we go to Africa!

I was really excited about this, as you might imagine, since the closest I’d been before was “Morocco” in Epcot – and here I was going to the real thing!

Because we only had one day (and had to cross the ocean by ferry) we were going to the port city of Tangier, rather than the inner, landlocked cities of Marrakesh or Casablanca (although I would love to return and see them.)

We took a tour bus to the southernmost tip of Spain, then boarded the fast ferry to Morocco, Africa. I ran into Eliana on board and it was lucky I did, because she happened to be carrying the Argentinean version of Dramamine in her purse. The fast ferry rode like a tricked-out wave runner. It was so bouncy that people who tried to walk – or even stand – kept falling down, and the brave souls who managed to get to the bar to order a drink ended up spilling/wearing more than consuming.

My first glimpses of Morocco were of a sprawling, white-dotted city along a backdrop of mountains.

It didn’t start getting crazy until we set foot on African soil. First, we had a bus tour and then we were dropped off near the casbah for a walking tour. We were immediately surrounded by robed men towing roped camels, offering camel rides for 1E. I rode the first camel on purpose, then was basically forced to ride the second because the camelmaster (is that a word?) decided I was the wife of one of my schoolmates and insisted that I ride with my husband. (???)

Next, the guide walked us through the casbah and basically debunked nearly everything I’d ever heard about the Moroccan/Arab/Muslim culture. First of all, there has been women’s sufferage for years. There are women leaders in every aspect of government, which is more than we can say about the US. (For women, minorities *or* religions. Basically, you have to be a white male Christian if you want to get anywhere in our government.)

The long robes she was wearing are traditional garb, but not obligatory – we saw a few locals in jeans and t-shirts, and all of the kids had on tank tops and shorts. Similarly, there are no buildings or places where women are not allowed to go, just places that they typically choose not to enter, due to tradition and culture. (If you think this explanation sounds like propaganda, consider the different demographics between, say, front-row spectators at a wrestling match and participants at a tupperware party. it’s not a matter of which gender is or isn’t *allowed* to go, so much as chooses not to based on our culture.) And believe me, Moroccan culture is way different from ours.

We rounded the next corner and were immediately approached by a snake charmer, whose partners played music while he pulled a long, writhing snake out of a basket and wrapped it around my neck. Yes, my neck. (I’m lucky it didn’t bite me – that would have been three continents in less than two months.) He let the snake wind itself around other people, too, and we all tossed some coins into his basket (not the same one that housed the snake, that would have been mean.)

The architecture in Morocco is really neat. I love the unique arches, the stone roads, the painted tiles. We ate lunch in a picturesque Arabian restaurant, complete with a salon of musicians, playing for change. The appetizer was a shishkebob of unknown meat origin (not for Alison and I, who got salads instead). Main course was couscous and veggies (my favorite) followed by green tea, which is boiled in a giant pot and servered to everyone at once, at the end of the meal. Unfortunately, we were all embarrassed when one of my classmates started demanding hers as soon as she sat down. “But I’ll pay for it! I want it now!” I felt like kicking her under the table. (Settle down, Veruca.) In case you’re wondering, despite her repeated demands, they did not bring it to her until it was ready, and everybody got a cup at the same time.

Next we had a tour of a Moroccan carpet factory, in which the sales people there did a hard hustle to get us to buy carpets. Several peple in the group caved. One classmate haggled them down about 50 bucks in price, but another forgot that Morocco is a bargain culture and bought hers for the 100E without any haggling.

Following the carpet factory, we were swept into a spice store, where our Moroccan “spice presentation and demonstration” was another thinly veiled sales pitch, this time for cooking spices, herbal remedies, makeup (ie, kohl eyeliner, etc). I got the kohl because I thought it was neat, and some eucalyptus leaves for when I get the inevitable cold. Some people had bags crammed full of goodies, which wouldn’t have been hard to do. The jars of spices filled the shelves that lined all the walls of the store from floor to ceiling.

Finally, we were let loose in the marketplace, which would have been panic-inducing had I been the claustrophobic (or crowd-ophobic) sort. The streets are high and narrow, and packed with all manner of Moroccans – mostly men – practicing an in-your-face style of high pressure salesmanship. The would walk backwards to be nose-to-nose with you, giving a constant sales patter. “10 Euro! 10 Euro! You want it! 10 Euro! 8 Pounds! 12 Dollars!” If you made eye contact or, worse, went so far as to respond in any way (if only to say no thanks), they stuck to you like glue until they could convince you that your life’s dream was an African drum set (Paula), various jewelry (Leila), an African cap (Bryan), or a possibly stolan Moroccan rug (Darius, who waited him out from 100E all the way down to 30E before he caved and bought it.)

So what did I buy from the street hustlers oops I mean vendors? A t-shirt for my brother Rob, who requested a souvenir from an unusual place. Believe me – this was definitely an unusual place! Their currency (dirham) is not even international – it’s no good anywhere except in Morocco itself, which is why they’re so eager to take any other kind of currency you might have on you.

Tags: animals, food, lost in translation, music & concerts, shopping

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.

Tags: animals, food, music & concerts, wine

Puerto Banus, Spain & Ronda, Spain

If you’ll recall, today is the day that instead of going to class, I am going to visit Ronda, home of Spain’s oldest bullring. (FYI: “Ro” like “row your boat”, not like “rah”.) When I arrived in Ronda, I met a girl (from my same excursion, though not from my hotel) named Eliana. She is from Argentina and was visiting a friend who had a summer house here in the Málaga area. Eliana is really nice and we hit it off right away. Apparently, we became fast friends a little too quickly, because the next thing we know, our tour guide is gone and the group disappeared right along with him.

We picked up a couple maps at the tourist information office and ended up making our own sightseeing tour, trying to follow the route the guide had indicated, but never quite catching up with him. What we *did* find was an absolutely breathtaking panoramic view of the area.

Ronda is an old city, perched atop a nest of mountains, overlooking an incredibly deep but beautiful gorge. An ancient Roman bridge snakes up the mountainside, made of stone blocks over a row of repeating arches. Old and new buildings balance on the edge of the gorge, and the people line the perimeter, enjoying the view of the bridge, the rocks, the cathedral, the mountains…

We came across the Plaza de Toros just in time to see the tour group! Unfortumately,they were scattering because it was the last guided stop before free time, but luckily the guilde was still there and we did not have to pay for admission. The bullring was massive. I could just imagine the thousands of spectators crowding each level, hundreds of years ago.

After this, Eliana and I stopped for lunch and I ordered a vegi pizza. Spanish vegi pizza is nothing like American vegi pizza. First of all, you don’t pick what goes on it. You don’t even get to know in advance. Secondly, what does come on it is different at each restaurant and always appears a bit random. For example, the most abundant vegi on this particular pizza was corn. You heard me. Corn.

Naturally, we couldn’t find the bus stop when it was time to pile back in, but at least this time we were not alone. We had met up with half a dozen or so travellers from England, who were also very lost, and took turns asking us if we knew where we were going. Finally, I said I’d ask someone, walked up to the nearest local, and asked him if he knew where the tourist buses typically picked up. Sure, he said, and gave some easy directions.

The British woman turned to me and said, “I didn’t know you were from Spain!” “I’m not,” I answered. Her eyes got round and she exclaimed, “But you speak Spanish so *well*!” (Apparently my English is a little sketchy, however.)

So we get back on the bus, which makes a stop at Puerto Banus on the way back. Eliana tells me that Puerto Banus is a famous, rich Spanish port, with an impressive array of yachts and a large statue that appears in lots of Spanish movies. We walked along the port, saw lots of yachts, several fish and even a ray before it was time to head back to our hotels.

Back at the hotel, I was just in time for dinner and the nightly entertainment. As usual, it was Mario, the hotel singer who sings to karaoke CDs (without the lyric screen) and plays along on an electric keyboard, although one time he stopped to answer his cell phone mid-song and the music mysteriously kept playing. He “plays” a short set, but he plays the set three times a night, and you can bank on hearing Shakira, Every Step You Take, Pretty Woman (which he mumbles through since he doesn’t know the words except to the chorus) and this undulating, bouncy yodel tune, to which he yodels his name (”Mario-hee, Mario-hoo”, etc.) At first, we believed he invented that particular ditty himself, but we were to later learn that it is in fact a real song.

Tags: animals, cathedrals, lost, lost in translation, music & concerts, road trip

Benalmádena, Spain & Fuengirola, Spain

This morning, I got up, ate breakfast, went to class, and after class, I went to the front desk to buy a ticket to Ronda for tomorrow. Technically, I’m supposed to be in class, but the professor gave Ula and I permission to do something cultural instead. She’s going to Gibraltar, and I wanted to go to Cadiz (the oldest city in Europe) but due to various extenuating circumstances, I settled on Ronda instead.

I bought tomorrow’s ticket, then headed for the train. For some reason, the train was packed with people, so I had to stand. The guy next to me instantly began chattering animatedly in what appeared to be gibberish. At some point, he realized I had no idea what he was saying, and asked (this time in Spanish), “You mean you’re not Arabic?” Mark it on the calendar! This is a new one for me. I’ve been mistaken for Mexican, Puerto Rican, Native American, Costa Rican, Indian (free gulab jamun out of that one), and basically anywhere in South America, but never in my life have I been mistaken for Arabic. Once I was able to explain that no, I wasn’t from Morocco, but actually from the United States (which he had never heard of, by the way), he promptly asked if I would like to be his girlfriend.

I politely declined, using my existing boyfriend as my main argument. In his somewhat broken Spanish (with a thick Arabian accent to boot – I was saying “What?” after every sentence) he asked if this boyfriend was actually here with me. No, I answered reluctantly, he’s back in my country, but he is still my boyfriend. That’s OK, he agreed cheerfully, I’ll just be your *Spain* boyfriend.

This completely threw me for a few minutes until I realized the the harem-and-many-wives mentality apparently also applied to tourist girlfriends. I feigned sudden deafness and tried to back away as best I could in a crowded train car. I had a few moments of fear when he continued to argue the point and I discovered we were getting off at the same stop. I managed to give him the slip in the train station, however, and breathed a sigh of relief to still only have one boyfriend.

In Fuengirola, I made my way to the sea and bought a one-way cruise ticket to Benalmadena for 7E. On board I took a bunch of pictures, ate a deelicious ice cream cone, and happened to notice the woman seated across from me suddenly decide to sun bathe topless. I think I see at least one pair of breasts every day. If not on live persons, then on advertisements. Here, nudity isn’t anything to be self-conscious about. People are no more scandalized when they see a nipple (when breastfeeding, for example) than they would be to see an ankle or a knee. Here, your body is just your body.

I got off the boat in Benalmáadena amid a sea of yachts. I walked along the port, which was filled with people, shops, and cafes. I found the aquarium and went directly inside. They gave me the student discount (4.50E) even though I didn’t have my card on me.

The aquarium was small but nice, with a variety of fish organized in logical sections (Amazonian, etc). The tanks were very clear and brightly lit. This was great for my photos, but I don’t know if it is good for the fish. (Anyone know?) I saw a few fish that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, which was neat. One was colorful and shaped like a needle and about as thick as a small crochet hook. (I didn’t get the name of it.)

After the aquarium, I made my way to Tivoli World, which was more complicated than I anticipated. There is only one train stop for Benalmadena / Arroyo de Miel, but that train stop is apparently over 6 km from the port – a bit of a hike. I ended up walking maybe a kilometer, waiting fruitlessly for a bus (several stopped, but they were all heading elsewhere) and ended up taking a cab. As it turned out, the taxi driver wasn’t going to Tivoli World (then why did he pick me up?!) but bizarrely enough, he dropped me off (free of charge) at another taxi, who would be going there. The new taxi cost me 5E, but since I had no idea where I was going, I figure it’s 5E well spent. The train stop ended up being maybe half a kilometer or so from the park, so it was really easy to get home afterwards.

(I had heard of Tivoli because I saw ads for it on the train. I will admit, it was a good month later before I learned what and why it was. But I’ll get to that when that day comes.)

It only cost 4.50E to get in to Tivoli World. The rides (and there were a lot more than I anticipated) operated on the ticket principle. One ticket (or one “tivoli”) was 1E, but armbands for unlimited rides were only 10E. There was a Jurassic area with a giant dinosaur and an American Old West section, which was kind of funny (and for some reason called the “Far West” instead of the “Old West”.) There were fountains everywhere and go karts, bumper cars, and even bumper boats. There were haunted houses, a different Ferris wheel in almost every section, and a wild-mouse style roller coaster. Fearless as I am, the piercing shriek of its brakes on every turn prevented even me from trying it.

I ate dinner in the china section, but without question, my favorite quarter was the Andalusian (southern Spain) area. There was a flamenco show, which was fabulous. The dancers were great and the costumes were amazing. When the show ended, I stopped by a churrería who served me some hot, fresh churros and a cup of steamy hot chocolate for only 2.50E.

Tags: animals, lost in translation, music & concerts, theme parks