Listening to ABBA in Ireland

I never really know how to write about my more intense travels because I often try to do and see so much that it's overwhelming to even think about writing it all out. For some reason Emma, Meg, and I let our strange obsession with ABBA run wild during the last puente and their songs sort of punctuated our entire journey. So, dear reader, I now invite you to open your preferred music library and find ABBA's Greatest Hits album, Gold (I know you have it), and allow your four favorite Swedes to accompany you on an Irish expedition.

Friday, Track 1: Dancing Queen

Our mornings (when we had a room to ourselves, at least) were often kicked off by that great piano slide at the beginning of this track. We began our trip with an early morning out of Madrid, landing in Dublin and finding our hostel around 1pm. The weather was a bit glum (surprise) but the skies eventually cleared up and after lunch and a stroll through Temple Bar, Meg and I set out to find the Guinness Storehouse.

In a word: great. After visiting this and the Heineken Experience in Amsterdam I feel that I am allowed to judge and compare and generally consider myself an expert on beer tourism. My only qualm with the Guinness Storehouse is that they let you do a tasting too soon. Sure, I really wanted to have a Guinness within moments of landing, but you just can't give me a taste of the black stuff on the second floor and then tell me the Gravity bar is on the seventh floor! I can't really say what was on the next few floors because we snapped pictures and rushed through them to get to the bar where they teach you how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness. I made Meg be the group's guinea pig and we poured our pints and got our certificates. I tried to make a clover on top of my beer but I was more concerned about pouring a delicious pint and drinking it to make any beautiful artwork.

That night, we had a few drinks around Temple Bar, ate some dinner, and had an early night so we could get up early and start heading across the country.

Saturday, Track 2: S.O.S.

An early morning and a big Irish breakfast took us to the Dublin bus station to head out to Galway, where we'd arranged to rent a car and begin our Irish road trip. Bad luck #1 - we arrived at 1pm and the rental office closed at noon. And doesn't open on Sundays. And we were planning to bring the car back Tuesday morning. Now what? Our extremely helpful staff at the Barnacles Hostel gave us a few suggestions as we modified our itinerary and then went for a walk around town. Lunch was at the apparently famous (but not too famous because their website is in Comic Sans) McDonagh's so we could re-work our plans on a full stomach. After deciding to stay in Galway a little longer we walked through the town, found an open-air market, and had a few pints. We went out to a few bars that night after our hallway was invaded by a neighboring stag party from Dublin that sang to us before they went out.

Sunday, Track 3: Money, Money, Money

Must be funny. At breakfast Sunday morning, Emma asked me, "do you have my money?" Well, no. Of course not. Why do you ask? All of her cash was gone. Bad luck #2. I had been in charge of the bote the night before (bote is a Spanish term used for when everyone puts in the same amount of money to pay for something like dinner or a night of drinks) but I still had our change and nothing more. Then we found out Meg's cash was gone too. Fortunately my stuff was untouched, but it was really unsettling. My inner detective says it was the guy in our room who nobody knew (you're lucky I didn't see your face, guy) because he took cash from bags that weren't very easily accessible in the back of the room, while my stuff was right by the door. Anyone just sticking their head in the door would take what they saw first... not go to the back of the room hoping to find something. And yes, I KNOW we should have been more careful with where we left our things. We've all stayed in hostels before. Consider it a momentary lapse of judgment.

As I said, our hostel staff were super helpful and when we told them about it they dedicated quite some time to our 'case' and gave us a private room for the next night. Once again, we changed our itinerary. Instead of trying to get to some well-known spots in the area, we found a cheap bus out to Clifden and walked along the beach after a quick stop at a playground, because we are adults. We cooked dinner at the hostel that night and then played a game of Clue with a girl from CA in the hostel lobby. I won by default because the other three guessed incorrectly, but then so did I! One extra card (stupid Mrs White) threw us all off.

Monday, Track 4: Super Trouper

We took hostel guy Danny's suggestion to visit the Aran Islands and stay at his pal Dave's hostel, the Kilronan. A choppy ferry ride on a cold, dark, windy day brought us to the pier on Inis Mór, the largest of the Aran Islands. As per the hostel's directions, yes, you really can see it as soon as you get off the boat! We walked over to the hostel and found that we had our cute little room with tiny beds all to ourselves. We had been told that on the Aran Islands it's very common to rent a bike and see the island that way, but when we arrived it was the coldest, windiest, rainiest day of the trip so far... so we opted for a van tour instead. It was the same price and our driver was so knowledgeable about the island that in the end I think it was way more worth it. Even on a nice day we wouldn't have heard so many fun facts on a bike! Our driver took us to the most famous spots on the island, including Dún Aonghasa, an ancient fort atop 100-meter cliffs and my favorite spot of the entire trip.

Our hike was exhausting given the wild weather on our way to the top, but it all paid off as the clouds cleared and we enjoyed some incredible views. At the base of the fortress there's a tiny cafe that made the most delicious beef & Guinness stew I've ever had.

Highly recommended! That night we made some pizzas for dinner before having some pints in the tiny town where everybody knew everybody's name, just not ours. We were nearly proposed to by some gross old locals who sang to us to try to win us over, but it wasn't meant to be.

Tuesday, Track 5: Mamma Mia

At noon we were on a ferry back to to the mainland. At about 1:00 we were on a bus back to Galway center. At 2:30 we were on a bus to a very cold, rainy Dublin. Early the next morning, we were on a plane back to Madrid. Whew! Of course, I took way too many photos and I can only hope they convey the splendor of some of the things we saw. Click here to see them!

Scottish semi-surprise

How exactly does a trip to Scotland end up as a surprise? Pull up a seat, I'll tell you. What happens is one night you go out to a bar where you used to go all the time with your Scottish friend. You send said friend a text saying, "Guess where I am?" which later turns into a phone call, which the next morning turns into a flight booked for the following weekend. Oh, nostalgia. You never treat me right.

I found a relatively cheap fare for a flight to the UK with only a week's notice and jumped on the opportunity to go hang out with Leigh and the rest of my favorite Scots. When I went also happened to be Leigh's birthday weekend, so that justified my spontaneity a bit. I am nervous now...booking a last-minute flight was quite the rush and I fear that it may happen again...

When I arrived on Friday, we had a calm night, just sitting around and catching up until we were both too tired to talk... like fourteen year-old girls. After only a few hours with us, Leigh's sister was saying that all we do is giggle, and, well, it's true. We woke up to a big Scottish breakfast on Saturday and then wandered around Glasgow center a bit, did a little shopping, and had a drink at a bar near George Square. Leigh's mom made her delicious chili for dinner as we got ready to go out that night for the birthday party. We reserved a booth in a bar and basically took over an entire corner of the room dancing and talking all among ourselves. The best part of the night was when these two people came in trying to promote their Sambuca with Kanye West glasses and stick-on mustaches. I hate Sambuca and anything with anise, but I was happy to help myself to their swag and make myself look ridiculous for the rest of the night. Oh! I lied. The actual best part of the night was when we left the bar and found a Gregg's open at 1am and I ate the warmest, freshest sausage roll on Earth.

On Sunday, Leigh's mom drove us out to Tayport to meet up with her brother, who then took us to see St. Andrews and gave us a fun fact tour. We saw the beach where the opening scene from Chariots of Fire was filmed, the face of Patrick Hamilton on the façade of St. Salvator's, and played zombies coming out of some open tombs in the ruins of St. Andrews Cathedral. We eventually returned to Tayport to stop in some tiny village pubs: at the very tiny and very cute Cobbie's I tried a McEwan's Scottish ale (not bad) and later at Bell Rock Tavern I had a very delicious Belhaven St Andrews ale. We stopped by Leigh's uncle's house before we found our way back to Glasgow for the night, where Leigh and I treated ourselves to a deliciously greasy fried half pizza and curry chips. I love Scotland. But, all good things must come to an end... I came back to Madrid that Monday.

Click here to see all of my photos from this trip! (all of the really good photos were taken by Leigh's uncle, Al Connelly... I'm not that talented!)

My next journey won't be a surprise... I'm off to London to see my mom! Sure, we'll get some sightseeing in here and there but I'm mostly super excited to hang out with mom and our friend Sharon. Look for photos coming soon...

PS:

One more thing... Dad - next time I'm here, you'd better be coming with me!!

Day tripping: Chinchón

Well, it's been almost a month since I came back to Madrid after being home for two great weeks at Christmas. Since my return, I've been lying pretty low, just going to work, spending time with my friends on the weekends, and of course trying to plan my next trip to wherever. In this downtime, I get to enjoy what Madrid has to offer! On Saturday, my friend Meg and I decided to take a day trip to a nearby town called Chinchón.

There isn't too much to see and do there, but it did have a cool circular Plaza Mayor. We stopped into the tourist information office and saw a funny bat-shaped flyer for a restaurant called the Mesón Quiñones that boasted free entry to some bat caves, with available desgustación de vinos (wine tasting). We'd expected to find pretty cheap lunch menus in this small pueblo, but restaurants were about on par with Madrid prices in the Plaza Mayor, so we opted for a cheap lunch just a bit outside the very center, grabbed an ice cream, and headed out in search of the bat caves.

A quick glance at a map of Chinchón showed that we weren't far from the restaurant claiming to have bat caves. We walked up a few hills and around a few corners to discover that not only does this restaurant actually have some caves under it, but it is also the only restaurant we saw in Chinchón above the Plaza Mayor, save for two oddly-decorated "Irish" bars. We weren't really sure how to go about finding the caves, so we just walked in, and sure enough just across from the bar there were some stairs down into poorly-lit, slightly creepy caves. There was a small group of people heading out as we came in who told us to stop by the bar to have some wine and a snack. Our 1€ wines came with a small pincho and we got to keep our little glasses!

The odd sixteen year-old waiter working behind the bar wanted to speak to us in English, making a lot of mistakes, but he told us to feel free to take a walk around and eventually was nice enough to take a picture of us in the caves (hence why the photo is so dark). Once we finished our wines, we went back out into the town to walk around for a bit longer before having a seat in the Plaza Mayor to watch the little kids go around on donkeys and in little carriages. All of this, of course, was accompanied by some cañas while the unseasonably warm January sun baked just above our heads.

Basque-ing

Puente - Spanish for "bridge," a puente is the word used to describe a regular weekend made longer by connecting it to a bank holiday on, for example, a Tuesday. In this case, my weekend was connected to Tuesday, the first of November, or All Saints Day, giving me and my friend Jessie four days to head up north and discover San Sebastián and Bilbao.

Stop #1 was San Sebastián, or in the local language, Donostia. This small beach town was super charming and full of history. When we climbed to the top of Monte Urgull, between the Bahía de La Concha and playa Zurriola (closest to our hostel) we got to visit a small exhibition within a giant statue dedicated to el Sagrado Corazón de Jesús full of history about País Vasco and Donostia.

Our hostel experience here was...odd. We arrived to find the owners of the hostel (a married couple) welcoming us with mini croissants and a chocolate bar, and the guy, Jaime, dressed in a stage turban, winter coat, sweatpants, black socks, and white jelly shoes. He referred to himself as the Sultan of Karpukala (apparently he'd recently been in some sort of play or something) and eventually posed for a photo in the middle of the tiny room with us. The "hostel" was nothing more than a room in the couple's house where they'd installed three-story bunkbeds. We chose this place because it was the cheapest hostel with availability, and though it was really strange, we were lucky to be sharing the room with a group of really nice people who made the stay that much better.

While in Donostia, we basically walked all over the entire town, stopping only for the occasional coffee or ice cream. We took a lot of photos on Monte Urgull and in the old town on our first day out, but unfortunately it was really overcast until our tourism day came to an end. On our last day in Donostia it was warm and sunny, so we just sat on some giant wavebreaker rocks in Zurriola, soaking up the sun before we had to catch a bus to our next stop.

Bilbao (Bilbo) is probably most well known for the Guggenheim museum. One of the travel books I read said that one could refer to history in Bilbao as BG and AG - Before & After Guggenheim. Apparently the construction of the museum really changed everything there, transforming it from an industrial district to a modern and diverse riverside city.

On our last morning in Bilbao, we took the funicular de Artxanda and got to see some incredible views of the city, the river, and the surrounding landscape. The old town in Bilbao was cute, and the Guggenheim was impressive, but this was my favorite part of the trip. Seeing a city in a valley surrounded by cloud-covered mountains reminded me so much of Boone. Of course, in Boone they don't speak Euskera... I only learned hello and goodbye (kaixo/agur) and thank you (eskerrik). Even though the signs were all in Euskera, they were also in Castellano, and everyone in Donostia and Bilbo speaks Castellano as well, so I didn't have any trouble getting around... just didn't get to learn any cool new words or phrases. Bummer.

In writing about Euskadi (Basque Country), pintxos must be mentioned. Pintxos are similar to tapas in that they are a small delicious snack to accompany your drinks, but pintxos differ from tapas in that they include a pincho - Spanish for spike - that is usually a toothpick holding the toppings together on a slice of bread, while tapas could be almost anything. You could look at it this way: pintxos can always be considered tapas, but tapas can't always be pintxos. Squares and rectangles.

We ate lots and lots of pintxos at every possible opportunity. I'll let the pictures do the talking:

Delicious!

Click here to see the rest of my photos from a weekend in the Basque Country.

The mountains are calling...

...and I must go. City life is great, but sometimes I miss the beautiful mountain air I enjoyed while living in Boone, NC. On Saturday, my friend Jessie and I took a quick bus ride north of Madrid to a town called Manzanares El Real. While there is a castle there, we instead chose to take a short walk down the road and hike through part of La Pedriza, a mountainous collection of giant stones that make a very steep hike with really beautiful views.

You might not be able to tell unless you know what you're looking for, but those familiar with Madrid's landscape will be able to see the Cuatro Torres on the horizon. (Those not familiar with Madrid's landscape may notice two goats in the shadow of a nearby boulder.) Even though Manzanares El Real is only about 35km (~21mi) from the city, it felt like we'd traveled much further away. This was the first real hike I'd done since I was at ASU, so even two days later my legs are a little sore. I guess I'll just have to get back in hiking shape while the weather is still nice!

Days like this renew my love for la capital. Though I live within the confines of the city-shaping M30 motorway, I can easily take a Saturday and find myself having a picnic on top of a mountain after less than an hour of travel. Menos mal that I'm not much of a beach person.

Conquering Iberia, Part 1

Sometime in March or April, I mentioned to my friend Bruno, from App, that he should visit Spain. A few messages back and forth decided it--he was coming. In mid-May, I had a visitor! The first weekend he was here, Bruno and I enjoyed a true Madrileño weekend and experienced the fiestas of San Isidro. We spent the weekend walking around Madrid and getting a tan while the locals dressed in their best chulapo outfits to honor their patron saint.

Monday came, and Bruno visited Barcelona while I worked that week. But then, that Thursday, we hopped on a plane to Lisbon for the weekend. I had been wanting to visit Lisbon for a while, so it only made sense for me to go when my Brazilian friend was coming to visit so I could make him talk to everyone for me. I gathered some last-minute advice from people who knew about Portugal and we were off. I was absolutely astounded by Lisbon! It was more beautiful than I imagined (though it probably helped that I didn't know anything about it) and the food was delightful. We spent our first evening walking around and seeing a few things here and there, and I ate feijoada for dinner, however I have to say I prefer the Brazilian style! Oops. Thursday night we went back to the hostel at a decent hour and got some sleep before starting our first big sightseeing day. Also, our hostel was fantastic and I would highly recommend it!

The next day we got up early and saw practically everything. Our first mission was to climb the hill up to Castelo São Jorge which sits high above the city. We spent a few hours there in the morning, climbing towers and warding off enemies, before coming back down to the city to visit Belém. I'd only seen the miniature Torre de Belém in Torrejón's Parque Europa, but the real thing isn't that much bigger! We spent a few hours lazing in the sun in Belém before stopping to fulfill one of our advised itinerary items: Pastéis de Belém.

These little custard tarts were so good. They gave them to us just as they were being made, along with packets of cinnamon and sugar to make them even more delightful. After eating these on a park bench, Bruno and I checked out the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos (a big beautiful monastery) where I left my soul. In Portuguese, the word for alm is alma, which is soul in Spanish. So, naturally, when I saw a box marked "almas" I decided to leave something behind. We then took a tram back into Lisbon proper and sat around to rest for a little while before walking around town, finding an acampada protest similar to the ones that are still going on in Madrid, and having dinner in the Bairro Alto at a Brazilian cafe... another excellent choice. After dinner, we went to hear fado, a type of Portuguese music that was traditionally known to be sung by sailors reflecting on their feelings of loss or life at sea, though now it just refers to a specific pattern of the song. We asked the staff at our hostel if they knew of a good place to hear fado that was not in Bairro Alto (thanks for that tip, Dee!) and they gave us the names of three places that were all in the Alfama neighborhood, so we decided to head that way after dinner and see what we'd find. We saw a few completely packed bars with people having dinner and being serenaded, but we'd just eaten so we wouldn't really be able to take up a table in any of those places.

A few turns through the winding, narrow passages of Alfama took us around for nearly an hour until we found one of the streets noted on our pink post-it of a travel guide. We began to head up the hill in search of some fado bar when suddenly we heard it a man's voice singing out over two guitars' accompaniment. We turned around, and there it was! The exact name and address they'd given us. We opened the door and someone inside gave us the last two seats in the extremely dark house and promptly brought us two very cheap and very delicious glasses of red wine while the man sang and the crowd sat mesmerized. After a few tunes, the lights came up and after about five minutes, a man announced the name of the next singer, and a woman at our table stood up and began to sing. Nobody in the bar spoke during the performances, everyone just sat and watched. Some closed their eyes, others sang along. I recorded.

[soundcloud url="http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/16517245"] (João Carlos, host of the evening, sings. A woman at our table sings along)

I wish I were more capable of describing our fado evening. Every time someone finished, someone new would jump up and impress me even more. I've never heard anything like this music before, and even though I got some good recordings through the night, all I wanted to do for days after the show was go back and hear it again. Bruno and I only left because it was past two in the morning and we'd been out since 9am that day.

On Saturday we went to Rio de Janeiro and San Francisco. We took a ferry across the river to Almada, where we then took a bus to the top of the hill to visit Cristo Rei and see the 25 de Abril bridge overlook. We went into the church at the bottom of Cristo Rei, but didn't take the elevator to the top because it seemed kind of pointless. Aside from looking up at the blinding sun to check out Cristo Rei, there wasn't much else to do up there except admire the view, so that's what we did for 30 minutes or so. I couldn't get past the fact that the bridge looked exactly like San Francisco (though I've never been there), so my good friend Wikipedia told me that it was actually constructed by the same company that did the Bay Bridge.

The rest of the day was very laid-back since we'd already seen most of the city, and we decided to just walk around to see if there was anything we hadn't yet discovered. We had lunch in Alfama again and got to see the ancient neighborhood in the sunlight. After a little afternoon break in the hostel, we went out to Bairro Alto in search of Lisbon's best caipirinha. We thought we couldn't find it, even though three different people gave us the name of this place and told us it was very near, so we almost gave up and just went into any bar to have one... but of course, there it was. Just as we'd found the fado place almost by accident, we looked over and found the bar we were looking for just as we'd decided to give up. And yeah, the caipirinhas were really, really good. We wandered a bit more around Bairro Alto before we headed back toward our hostel for a late-night kebab (it was the only thing open at 11pm!) and some delightful cans of Fanta Maracujá (passionfruit!) for our last meal in Lisbon. The next morning we sadly boarded a plane very early after a cab ride that felt like we were in The Fast & the Furious: Lisbon. Bruno did some day trips during the week and I worked, and then we set off to Andalucía...

(Click here to see the rest of my pictures from Lisbon!)

A Scottish Screamfest

For Semana Santa (15-22 April), I went with my roommate Leigh to visit Scotland. We stayed at her house just outside Glasgow and took a few day trips to other cities and spent some time in the Glasgow center.

While it wasn't like other tips I've taken (backpacking and sight-seeing like crazy), I had a really great time and got to see a lot. In fact, the trip really reminded me of vacations to visit my family in Chicago--we see some things, but we also spend time with friends and family and have nice dinners, see movies, etc. Eating local food is something I enjoy while traveling, but this trip took it to a new level. Leigh's mom made us all kinds of typical Scottish fare, and while we were out I tried haggis and it wasn't bad at all! I just can't think about what was in it.

In Spain, there's a huge rivalry between Madrid and Barcelona. In Scotland, a similar rivalry exists between Glasgow and Edinburgh. Leigh, of course, prefers Glasgow. As a tourist and outsider, I arrived with a clean slate and without any idea of what to expect from either city. So, my verdict: it's difficult to choose. Edinburgh was absolutely beautiful, with all the ancient architecture and the massive castle towering above the rest of the city. Glasgow was more comfortable, like a city you could live in. As a tourist, I preferred Edinburgh... but I wouldn't be upset if I found myself in Glasgow again, meeting friends for drinks or taking a walk down Buchanan street.

While in Scotland, we took a day trip to Loch Lomond where we found ourselves eating in a restaurant called The Kilted Skirlie. I ate steak pie, which is not what it sounds like, but rather some pieces of really delightful beef in a wine sauce with potatoes and veggies to enjoy. After a brief walk around the shores, we had some ice cream and eventually went back to Leigh's.

Our last day trip of the week was out to a town on the shore called Ayr. It was really warm and sunny that day, so we were able to kick off our shoes and take a short walk in the very cold water. While we were there, Leigh and I tried shouting to our friend Julie who was in Ireland at the time, but she said she didn't hear us. What a pity!

In the UK, chippies are a really popular thing. What's a chippy? "Chippy" is short for Chip Shop, or a place that sells fish and chips, among other fried heart attacks delights. Since I don't like fish, Leigh told me the best chippy meal in Scotland is a half pizza supper, or half a basic cheese pizza, fried, and accompanied with chips and an ice-cold Irn-Bru. Irn-Bru is a Scottish soft drink that, to me, tastes like liquid (American) Smarties. I don't like it, but for the sake of experience I had one with my lunch and it all worked out.

The rest of the story is best told in photos... click here to see all my Semana Santa pictures!

PS - The "Screamfest" in the title refers to the Scream movies... we watched all four while we were there. Hah!

Let me stand next to your Falla

I recently read a post on one guy's travel blog which brought up the notion of keeping some things to yourself while traveling. At one point in Costa Rica he and his travel crew saw a group of extremely rare birds, a sighting which he kept to himself: "I didn't tweet it, flick it, post it, stumble, or dig." He goes on to explain that he found it exhilarating to be selfish with his time, keeping the moment to himself rather than focusing on capturing the moment to share with others...which leads me to my point. I took quite a few pictures of my trip to Valencia this weekend, but I think more to show that I'd been there than anything else. Some of my favorite moments of the trip were preserved on someone's camera, just not mine. Plus, given the state of my camera, I'm not very encouraged to take pictures anyway.

This weekend I went to Valencia with a group of friends from my school to experience the cultural phenomenon known as Las Fallas. Las Fallas is a festival in which all the different barrios of Valencia (and beyond) spend months out of the year preparing their falla, usually a satire on a certain theme, with characters, animals, you name it, sometimes standing as tall as entire apartment buildings. During the festival, the city comes to life in an extremely boisterous  manner with fireworks exploding every thirty seconds or so, ranging from magnificent displays of color and light to small petardos flying from the hands of small children and, more frequently, old Valencianos. Each afternoon of the festival has a mascletà, in which dozens of fireworks are lit and the Plaza de Ayuntamiento shakes and explodes with celebration; each day ends and the nights begin with a fireworks display over the river, the most impressive of which being on the night of the 18th of March, or La Nit del Foc, which fortunately got to experience--definitely one of the best fireworks shows I've seen. After we fought through the crowds which gathered to watch the display, we spent some time walking around Valencia to see as many of the fallas as we could before calling it a night around 5am. What most surprised me was how we could walk around quite calmly all night with the other thousands of people that had come to town for the weekend and not feel like we were staying out until an absurd hour. Regrettably, on our cab ride back to the hostel, our taxi driver informed us that Friday was the party night because after the fallas burn on the 19th, the festival is over and everybody goes home.

Saturday we all met around noon to have breakfast (I love Spain) and to make our way back into the center to experience the Mascletà. Unfortunately, we didn't plan very well and arrived only with enough time to hear the explosions, but not to feel them. I am pretty bummed that we missed this, as every single person who offered Valencia advice told me that the Mascletà was an obligatory part of Las Fallas que no se puede perder. After the Mascletà madness was over, we continued our walk around town to see many more fallas and have a late lunch. We then began our walk back toward the hostel and came across one of the many parades, this time with fire and people dressed as demons! It was considerably shorter than the other parades, but still very impressive.

Saturday night, however, was the end of the festival, and a big festival can only come to a close with an even bigger ending. Las Fallas always ends with all the fallas being set on fire. Around 10pm, the fallas infantiles are burned and then later, any time from 12-4am, the full-size fallas are set ablaze. We stuck around the second prize winner to watch it burn, and wow was it worth it. This falla was as tall as the apartments that surrounded it, and the flames reached even higher. We didn't stand close for the actual burning, but once it had burnt down until only the interior support beams remained, we advanced to feel the heat and take some pictures. Our night continued to look for some remainder of a fiesta, but as the taxi driver correctly predicted, there really were none. The music in the streets ceased and all that remained were charred bits of falla scattered throughout the botellón-filled streets. We called it a night around 430am and went back to the hostel.

On Sunday, Ángel and I managed to get out of the hostel around noon to spend an hour or so lying on the beach, taking in the warmth and eventually sticking our feet in the chilly Mediterranean. But what followed the beach was incredible...paella valenciana! I will admit, I was a bit apprehensive about eating rabbit at first, but as long as I just didn't think about whether I was eating rabbit or chicken, I didn't mind and actually quite liked it. Our delicious lunch lasted a few hours and we eventually hit the road back to Madrid around 6pm, only hitting traffic just outside Valencia.

One big Spanish tradition down... up next, Semana Santa in Sevilla? San Fermín? La Tomatina? Vamos a ver...

Mallorca, or why the chicken crossed the road

Last month I went on a weekend getaway to the island of Mallorca, the largest of Spain's Islas Baleares. It was such a nice trip! The weather was fantastic, and though it wasn't exactly "beach weather," there were times when I didn't have to wear my coat! I went with my friend Meredith and we spent our time day-tripping to some smaller towns in the northern part of the island and spending our evenings in Palma.

My favorite place in Mallorca was a town called Valldemossa. The views were breathtaking, the architecture was cute and ancient, and the roads were windy and made of cobblestone... but another town we visited, Deià, provided us with the most spectacular experience I've ever had. We saw a chicken cross the road! We were sitting on a stone wall waiting for the bus to take us back to Palma when we saw a small black hen walk up to the road, poke around a bit, and eventually begin the journey to cross the road using the crosswalk!! It turns out there was a small slice of orange on the other side that it went to eat. So now we know!

The weekend was full of walking and taking pictures, and the sights were truly amazing. Check out a few of my favorites below or click here to see the full album.

Superpuente

Heads-up: This is a near-transcript of the written journal I kept while traveling, edited to avoid becoming a small novel. Saturday, 04 December 2010 I'm writing this en route via the A2 from Düsseldorf to Berlin. So weird! Jennifer and I are having a superpuente in Germany right now. We arrived late Thursday night in Weeze and two of her friends, Mohammed and Edin, picked us up at the airport and drove us into town to our hostel. We met two other Americans at Barajas who were also on our flight, and they ended up catching a ride with us and staying at our hostel as well. Jen's friends took us out for really delicious kebabs and walked around with us the first night.

On Friday, Jennifer and I walked around Düsseldorf a little and had our first glühwein (mulled wine) in one of the many Christmas markets. The wine was good but extremely sweet and strong... I guess that's how the Germans stay warm in the winter! Later that day Mohammed and their other friend Selcuk met us at the train station in Düsseldorf and took us on a quick trip to Cologne, or Köln, which I really liked. The Dom, a large cathedral, was incredible! It was ancient and beautiful and we fortunately got to take a walk through it before passing through a Christmas market (of course) and walking along the Rhine river. We only spent the evening there before heading back to book another night at our hostel and go into the Altstadt, or old town section of Düsseldorf.  This area was so alive!

The rest of town seemed to disappear after sunset, but after walking through a ridiculous shopping district full of designer storefronts, the bars in this area couldn't seem to contain the partygoers. It was also very beautifully lit for Christmas, as seems to be the norm around here. Mohammed insisted that we try the pizza from a place called Lupo in the Altstadt because the Lonely Planet guidebooks say it's the best in town. It was good, but we all split a pizza with grilled tuna on it so of course I couldn't fully enjoy it... blech.  Once through the Altstadt we walked along the river to the big TV tower in the harbor. We went up the very fast elevator to the observation deck--168m high--before having  a seat in the cafe upstairs. I enjoyed a very rich hot chocolate while the four of us sat and talked, admiring the nighttime view of the city. Jennifer's friends were so nice and fun to hang out with, and it really helped that they were from Germany! Mohammed got us set up with a rideshare from Düsseldorf to Berlin (where I am currently writing) so we are currently in the backseat of a car with an adorable Russian couple on their way to visit their daughter in ballet school. Apparently public transport across state lines in Germany is extremely expensive, so the rideshare program here is really effective and ridiculously cheap--we're only paying 30 euros each to take a trip that would have cost about 100 each by train.

Oh yeah, the hostel in Düsseldorf, Backpackers Hostel, was great. Highly recommended for being cheap, clean, and a small breakfast included in the price helps! It was super comfortable, too. The beds were bigger than my bed in my piso and even the common areas felt like a friend's house. The funny thing was that a group of Spanish girls were staying in the room next to us, so when I woke up I could hear Spanish through the walls... very confusing. What's even more confusing at this point is how much German I already know, without knowing I knew it! (uy) Somehow I'm seeing and hearing words around town and I know what they mean... not just the ones that are obviously similar to English. Maybe it's time to learn German! 220km left to Berlin! Apparently the Russian guy is a guitarist and writes for a German guitar magazine. That's cool. He got really excited when I said I knew some guitar. Okay, we've arrived! Berlin is much colder than expected... and I think we were spoiled by the last hostel because this one is not nearly as cozy. After checking in, we made the very cold trek down our street, Schönhauser Allee, to have some lunch (rutabaga & beef soup) and later walk to Alexanderplatz to experience, what else, another Christmas market! We had another glühwein and our first bratwursts of the trip... yum. The main drawback of this part of the trip is that the two metro stops nearest our hostel are currently under construction, so we have to take a very crowded bus from the next nearest metro or walk about 20 minutes in the freezing Berlin air... as I write this, it's -5 C outside. Brrr!!

Monday, 06 December 2010 Yesterday was so busy! We saw pretty much every touristy thing Berlin has to offer: the Reichstag, Brandenburg Gate, Berlin Wall, Holocaust Memorial, and more.

On top of that we visited one of the bars that the Lonely Planet called a hangout for "punks, rockers, and other leather-clad folks" and I had a really tasty Czech beer called Staropramer Schwarz. One German guy working near Potsdamer Platz suggested that we check out the Kreuzberg neighborhood, so we went out that way and ate some pizza because we're still on Spanish time and 3pm is not German lunch time. Also, the 4pm sunset is really messing with me. After pizza we decided to stop into a dive to see what kind of beers were on tap, and wow was that an experience. It was the towniest of all townie bars, with the strangest mix of characters I've ever seen. The bartender looked like a 25 year-old Spanish guy, to our right was a old man falling asleep in his beer mug, and to the left was an old man dressed as a woman, but not doing a very good job at it. There was also a drunk woman dancing around the bar who at one point put her arms around me and Jennifer and asked us what our names were (in German) and we gave her Spanish names and spoke Spanish to each other because pretty much everyone in Germany speaks perfect English. When we left, the bartender said "hasta luego."

Now I'm sitting in a small restaurant somewhere near Friedrichstrasse. We just ordered lunch and made a poor mistake of ordering beers because they had red and green attached to their names, but they taste like cherry and apple flavored candies, respectively. Yikes. The couple at the table next to us just asked where we were from because they heard us speaking English and it turns out that they're from New Jersey and have the same travel plan as us so far--started from Düsseldorf, came to Berlin, and next heading to Prague. Funny!

After "lunch" we ran into another Christmas market. Hah. We took some photos and headed back to our hostel to pick up our bags before meeting our ride to Prague... but unfortunately I missed a text from him earlier in the day saying he'd had a car accident and wouldn't be driving to Prague. Ugh! In true Amazing Race style, I got on the computer and saw that there was a train leaving for Prague in about an hour and a half... so we took off for the main train station, bought some sandwiches and got our painful 60 euro train tickets (the ride would have only been 20) to Prague. So now I'm sitting on the train. It's freezing in here!

We'll be getting into Prague in about five hours, just past midnight, to begin our quick stop in the Czech Republic. I've really enjoyed Germany so far. Most of the people have been helpful when we needed it and there is just so much history everywhere that it's hard not to be fascinated. It is a strange feeling to be away from Madrid, even though I've only been gone a few days. I wonder if I'll feel relieved when we get back, like I'm going back home. When I think about it now, it feels like I'm away from home, but when I'm in Madrid I don't feel that way. It's incredible to think about what I'm up to... that Madrid feels like home after not even three months, but I still can't believe I am really living there! What am I doing there? What am I doing, speaking another language fluently enough to make friends and do everyday things... even now, our train sits at a stop in Dresden, Germany... what am I doing in Dresden? How did I end up on a random ten-day vacation in some European country? Sometimes I just can't believe this is where my life has gone, but I am so happy that it did.

Tuesday, 07 December 2010 First impressions of Prague: wow. This place is beautiful! Our hostel here is nice but it seems to have the same effect as the hotel mom and I had in DC... super-modern looking with tons of interesting and unique features, but that's about it. But it was super cheap! This morning Jennifer and I had a small breakfast in a cafe nearby before walking toward the river and seeing the Dancing Building. I am just floored by how ornate everything is here, from the architecture to the stones that make up the sidewalks.

We continued along the river until we reached the Charles Bridge which I guess is only famous because it is pedestrianized and has lots of morbid religious stuff on it. But still we crossed it and took pictures because it was very beautiful and found a small Christmas market (imagine that!) and tried the Czech version of mulled wine... spoiler alert! It tastes the same, just has a cooler name: svařák. We climbed through the Malá Strana neighborhood up to Prague Castle where we enjoyed some really nice views of the city and happened to arrive just in time to see the changing of the guard. It was nothing fancy but still nice to see. We decided not to pay the 350 Czech crowns to get in (about 14,50 euros) and instead walked around the neighborhood and back down the hills to have a tasty Czech lunch of beef goulash and potato dumplings, and the best part... a cold, fresh Pilsner Urquell. Fantastic.

Our after-lunch walk took us to the Old Town square where there was, of course, a Christmas market. Then we walked through an expensive shopping area with stores like Gucci and Hermes before going back to the hostel to warm up. We ended up chatting with one of the people staying in our room and then the three of us went out for a drink nearby. A girl working at the hostel recommended a bar nearby called U Sudu, which my friend Maggie also recommended! It was really cool inside. I think there were a total of three bars within this one, all connected by a network of caves and tunnels. A tiny puppy ran around the room we chose.We left to get something to eat and ended up having bratwurst at a stand near the bar that played hilariously bad American Christmas music. After that I suggested we try this bar that I saw on Three Sheets that just happened to be across the street from our hostel. It was an absinthe bar called Absinthe Time, with a huge menu of just absinthes before getting to the other drinks. We asked the bartender what she suggested and we ordered from her suggestions and had it prepared with fire, which is apparently the Czech way. I have to say, I didn't hate it! The fire melted sugar into the absinthe and made it bearable... in very small sips.

Thursday, 09 Dec 2010 On a train again... this one is super bumpy and old. Our second day in Prague was nice, but I am pretty sure we saw nearly everything there is to see on day one, so day two wasn't very eventful. Another rideshare fell through, ugh! This situation was so strange... the guy asked us to meet at one hotel at 6pm, but on the day of he asked if we wanted to leave earlier in the day. We agreed, having seen pretty much all of Prague twice, only to discover that 15 minutes before the time we were supposed to meet him, he'd emailed me asking to change locations to the other side of town. Of course we were on our way to meet at one place so I couldn't have possibly checked my email... irritating. We ended up going to the train station to find out we'd have to pay another 55 euros for a train ticket that wasn't leaving until the next morning, so we went back to our hostel to book one more night and leave early the next day. Jennifer and I took what remained of our Czech money and went for some beers to ease our irritation. We met some really weird kids in the bar at our hostel, too... one girl claiming to be Russian who grew up in DC but now lives in Prague, some other guy from Brooklyn who allegedly plays poker for a living and just travels around looking for tournaments, and another super weird 17 year-old kid from India who went to American schools... sure. Oh! and this morning our train was delayed 35 minutes and apparently we have to change trains once we arrive in Plzen. Uyyy.

Saturday, 11 Dec 2010 So much has happened! Our train from Prague to Munich was such a mess. We sat on the train with a bunch of other Americans who were super nice and entertaining, so it helped pass the time as our train made multiple stops and kept going backwards and just uuuf. When we finally arrived in Munich I felt so relieved. Czech is just so confusing! Our hostel in Munich was also only about five blocks from the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) so we finally felt like everything was working out again. The hostel was okay... no perks and not very clean, but at least our roommates were nice. After arriving in Munich we walked to the city center and ate a really delicious dinner at the Bayerischer Donisl. It was amazing... Jen had turkey schnitzel and I had pork with potatoes.

After dinner we walked a bit more and eventually found the Hofbrauhaus... or beer mecca! There were loads of tables full of people eating and drinking giant liter mugs of delicious German beer, all with a typical German band playing in the middle of the room. The problem was just how full the place was. We walked through the entire place looking for a spot, preferably not with old people who probably didn't want to talk to us, and we decided (with a bit of uneasiness on my part) to sit at a table with a bunch of younger-looking guys... but one was passed out on the table, hence my discomfort. They, of course, welcomed us to their table. Two were German, both named Martin, one passed out, one Swiss guy, one Maltese guy named Etienne, and one American guy named Chris who lived in Switzerland.  They were nice and everything was fine until Pass Out Martin woke up and started banging his head and fists against the table and glared around the room. Over the course of the evening he slept with his head on the table, lying on the bench, and eventually under the table for a minute. At one point the waiter came by and told him he had to leave, so when he left his friends told him to sleep under the table and later told the waiter that he'd left. Terrible idea. Pass Out Martin was so belligerently drunk that he tried to stand up under the table so of course the waiter noticed that the table was moving and had to bring over the boss and they had a long chat and eventually the two Martins left. So we thought. Somehow they found their way back in without getting caught and sat back down with us, but then they both started falling asleep!  The boss guy told them they had two minutes to leave and somehow they actually left and didn't come back. Who knows what happened to them? Then the Swiss guy left, and it was just me, Jennifer, and Chris and Etienne. We decided we wanted to go for another drink, but maybe not a full liter, so we left and went to a hip-looking bar where Chris bought us all some dunkelweiss beers. Not my favorite, but still nice to try. At one point we got into a conversation with two girls at the table next to us only to discover that one of them was from Madrid! Finally, I got to speak Spanish again! The weirdest part was that the two girls were also staying our hostel... and in our room! Crazy!

Friday morning we went to the concentration camp memorial at Dachau. The exhibit was incredible. There was so much information about all sides of the war, from estimated numbers of those who died in Dachau vs the registered numbers, some old Nazi propaganda, flyers, articles, etc. We walked through barracks and the main hall and kitchen area, in the square where there was a daily roll call, and around the perimeter to the crematoriums. We walked through the "showers" which were of course the gas chambers. It was pretty terrifying to know that I was standing in a room where thousands of people died. We walked through a room that used to house dead bodies before cremation. I passed a wall that was used for shooting lineups.

Most importantly, I did something that so many innocent people never got to do: I walked out of Dachau the same way I came in, through a gate marked "Arbeit Macht Frei," and I did it alive and unscathed, though a bit shaken. Dachau was an incredible, almost surreal experience. What happened during the Holocaust always seemed so far from me, so before my time and my culture and the life that I know, but going there and seeing all of that just made it so much more real and terrifying.

After a few hours in Dachau we went back to Munich and had another delicious German meal at a place called Augustiner. I tried veal meatballs (!) with potatoes and veggies. After another "lunch" we went to the hostel to get our lives together for today and tried to set up a rideshare to Frankfurt. The very very very helpful girl working at the hostel made phone calls for us and found us a ride! We rode the high of that success all the way to the Paulaner Brauhaus where I had probably the freshest beer ever. Delicious.

This morning we didn't have much time before our ride so we had a small breakfast at a nearby bakery and went to meet our ride. They didn't show up right away so of course we panicked a little, but they did eventually get there! So now I'm in the car to Frankfurt. Our drivers this time are two sisters in their mid-twenties who said they used to do the rideshare a lot and they really love the experience. They're really nice. Too bad not all the drivers along the way were like this! We should be arriving in Frankfurt in about an hour and then it's our last night in Germany!

Okay, now I'm in the hostel in Frankfurt. This place is pretty cool, in a really old building on a pedestrian square right across the street from the main train station. The room is nothing spectacular, but of course there are four Spanish people in our room! The hostel bar has a piano in it and someone is playing "Winter Wonderland" right now. We just got back from seeing all of "old" Frankfurt and my favorite Christmas market of the trip! There was a brass band on a rooftop playing Christmas songs... so wonderful. Other than that, Frankfurt is so commercial!

Skyscrapers and financial buildings are everywhere. But, more on the Christmas market: I had schnitzel, finally, and loved it. It was on a bun so I don't think I'll be hungry for days. We also tried Apfelweine, which was good and mostly tasted like green apple cider, but later we had winter-apfel schnapse and it was just spectacular. It was a warm shot of the schnapse and it tasted like hot spiced cider. If only airlines didn't have stupid liquid restrictions, I would have bought a bottle of it. After seeing pretty much everything in Frankfurt, we walked along the river for a little while before coming back to the hostel and being bothered by some weird dude in the bar.

Sunday, 12 December 2010 The weird guy kept bugging us for a while, and after talking with the Spanish folks in our room, the girl said she'd noticed him bothering every girl in the hostel. At one point last night some old guy came in the room claiming I'd stolen his bed, but I explained that there was nothing on or near the bed to indicate that it was taken, and he went on some rant about how people steal things if you leave them, blah blah blah, he went and complained and they just gave him another room. Hah.  I didn't sleep well because people kept going in and out of the room all night and I had to get up early, which is always how it goes. The best part about our hostel, however, was that it was right next to the train station where we needed to catch a bus to the airport this morning. Fortune smiled upon us again as Jennifer and I managed to buy the last two tickets on this bus for the jump seats right up front. We got to the airport with enough time for check-in and breakfast and no problems getting on with our backpacks.

Traveling was fun but I'm very glad to be going back to my slow-paced, relaxing life in Spain.

Click here to see more pictures from this trip!