to france ... eventually [figueres, spain & carcassonne, france]

We got up early to get going on our road trip northward, but as my Mom would say, it just wasn't meant to be. First I forgot my passport and had to go all the way back to my apartment from Placa Catalunya, a trip that takes over an hour no matter what you do. We finally got to the airport to get the rental car, waited for an hour for the people at the desk to type some information into a computer, and got on the road. After driving for 20 or 30 minutes the dashboard started blinking and beeping and we had to drive back to the airport and get a new car. An hour and a half later, we gave up on trying to get anywhere on time. That's Barcelona for you.

We stopped on the way in Figueres for the Salvador Dali museum. It's an interesting building - He was obsessed with eggs, and so there are eggs all over the roof. I love it. What a great attitude. He really has a sense of humor and an incredible imagination, not to mention a lot of talent. It was a very unique museum and I am very glad to have seen it. Unfortunately half of IES had to show up for a field trip... no matter how far away I go I just can't escape those people.

We continued up into France. They barely even glanced at us when we passed the boarder. Good thing I got my passport. France was instantly beautiful (and instantly cold). The colors were the best part. In one direction the sandy yellow, pumpkin orange, olive green, and black-brown of the stripes of grape vines and low shrubs against the bright aqua-marine Mediterranean and the soft purples, pinks, and blues in the evening sky. In the other direction bright green hills dotted with brick orange farmhouses and lemon yellow flowering trees, the snow-capped Pyrenees parting the gray clouds and filling in the background. I wish I could have taken a picture, but I don't think it would have done it justice anyway.

It started raining the closer we got to our destination, a rain that didn't stop until we left France on Sunday. The wind and the rain sent the chilly air right in to your bones. I felt like I was in Holland again. Luckily, our bed and breakfast, in a small town outside of Carcassonne, had a rather lovely bed with big fluffy pillows and warm blankets. The cold just made it that much more enjoyable to sleep.

praying to the porcelain god [barcelona, spain]

Yes, instead of spending time touring the city with my parents or going to class, I spent the day with my face in the toilet after a dinner of grilled duck, which apparently wasn't grilled quite enough. I would have rather gone to my Spanish class, and that's saying a lot. Food poisoning is seriously underrated.

roman ruins [tarragona, spain]

We slept in a bit, had breakfast, and left the hotel to see some of Tarragona. Just a few steps away was the Roman Amphitheater. Its location was really the best part - the beach dropped down below it. Made a pretty picture. Made me excited for Rome. We continued to walk up through the old city, stopping along the way for some nice views of the sea and some historical sites. We happened upon an outdoor market that was mostly antiques. We found some interesting stuff, including a wind-up watch that I got that you can watch all the little gears moving the hands through the back. I really love it. We also found the old walls of the city and walked up for some nice views overlooking Tarragona, the mountains, and the sea. Very typical coastal Spain.

We headed back to Barcelona in the late afternoon, so I had plenty of time to recover for class on Monday. Or not.

cava y vino [penedes & tarragona, spain]

My Mom and I got up early to go to the local market across the street. They had some cheap clothes and lots of food - not entirely unlike other outdoor markets I've seen in Spain. After that we got in the car and headed towards our first wine tour. We had a little trouble finding it, but we got there - the Cordoniu Penedes.

Now when I think winery, I think quiant little stone building with some vines and barrels... well, that's not how they do wine in Spain. First of all, I should clarify that Cordoniu produces cava, not wine. Cava is exactly the same as champagne, a sparkling wine, but you cannot technically call champagne "champagne" unless it is made in the Champagne provence of France. As you can see, they're serious about their wine.

The tour started in a fairly large movie theater that gave us a big-screen version of the history and future of the Cordoniu winery (17 generations in the making). We then moved to the on-sight museum, designed by the architect Puig i Cadafalch (a contemporary of Gaudi), and then down to the endless caves of cava, that continued down for several stories. This place is huge. They have an actual shrine to the grape vine. They have multiple satellite wineries throughout the world. During the harvest season, they actually work 24 hours every day to get all of the grapes. It's insane.

A little shell-shocked we moved on to our next wine tour, at the smaller (though still considerably large) Torres winery. This one was a little more what I imagined - a small winding road led up to rolling hills of pruned knots of grape vines and wheat swaying in the breeze. Once again, we watched a full-screen movie. The next part of the tour was rather interesting - a narration of a year in the life of a grape vine to stimulate all 5 senses. It began with the smell of grape vines burning and ended in the scents of freshly smashed grapes. After that we continued to more caves and stainless steel vats of wine. You could have gotten drunk just walking through the place. It was lovely.

Our last leg of the journey brought us to Tarragona. After getting lost several thousand times, we found our way to our hotel. When we got in we were pleasantly surprised - our room had a bedroom and separate living room with two balconies and an enormous bathroom. Maybe for some this would have been just another hotel room, but considering we usually travel on a tight(fisted) budget, it was quite a treat. The views were amazing - one out to the port and new city and the other over the beautiful Mediterranean and Roman ruins. I don't know why there aren't more people living in Tarragona.

That night we went to an amazing gourmet dinner with some very friendly staff. We were truly living in the lap of luxury.

road trip espana [vilafranca, spain]

My parents got in at about 4pm. It was very good to see them although I got the immediate sensation that I wished I would be going home with them. We got our very nice rental car and headed to our first destination - the small city of Vilafranca, set into the wine region of Penedes south of Barcelona. By the time we found our way it was late, so we went to a very nice dinner and then headed back to the hotel to get some rest.

laugh it off [barcelona, spain]

After a good night of laughing with Sam until I felt like I was going to break in half, I had a good sleep and woke up on the right side of the bed, finally. I walked to class and breathed in the city. I remembered that I love Barcelona.

When we first got here, IES gave us a bunch of welcome papers, one of which featured a graph of the "emotional roller coaster" of a study abroad experience. We all laughed, commenting on our current positions on the rollercoaster. But after a few weeks we realized that we really are on that roller coaster. It's a constant up and down, from elation to depression and everything in between.

Or maybe that's just me... what can I say, I'm passionate.

food for thought [barcelona, spain]

My film teacher always talks to us about how Spanish people like to talk about struggle, about pain, about death - they want to breath it in and feel it as deeply as they can. To us it seems depressing, but he says that in facing death, they find a new freedom in life. He says that's why real Flamenco is so powerful to watch - because it comes from the poorest parts of the south of Spain where they face real struggle. It's like blues. When your life is that difficult every single day, when you can reach out and touch death and feel it in your hands, then you are free. And you can dance and sing with a passion that others could never understand.

very tired [barcelona, spain]

The trip wore me out. The guy from the store reminded me of how difficult it is to find that rare breed of the male race that I'm willing to invest time in. I just wanted to lay in bed with the window open and forget about life for a while. So I did just that.

something's missing [granada, spain]

I got up [too] early to get to the Alhambra on time. They have very strict rules on getting there on time, and you're only allowed in the palace for 30 minutes. I had a rough night sleep because I was feeling kind of sick, so I wasn't in the best mood getting there.

I walked to the palace. It was a lot better inside than the stark box-shaped exterior. It was beautiful. So beautiful, but I couldn't feel the beauty the way I usually do - in that way that I'm able to absorb it and feel it all through my body, in a way I hope you can read in my words. It just wasn't there, and I don't know why. It was so beautiful. But for the first time I felt like just another tourist - snapping photos and moving on, without even looking back over my shoulder. I knew it, I knew I wasn't really all there, but I couldn't change it and I didn't know why. I still don't know why. It's such a shame. It was so beautiful.

I moved on to the Generalife, and I skipped the Alcazaba altogether. It makes me angry at myself to think about. How could I not go? I can't explain it to myself, but I do remember how I felt, and I just didn't feel myself there. It was so strange.

I ended up going back into town and walking through the shops again. I bought some spices. In one store I started talking to some guy who only spoke Spanish. I agreed to meet up with him later (in public, of course) because I had nothing better to do. In the mean time, I went back to the hostel and decided to do some reading up on the rooftop terrace. I was surprised to find a bunch of people up there. They were all listening to music and chatting about their travels and drinking beers. I was so jealous. I wanted Sam to be there. I pictured us up there, soaking in the hot sun and hanging out with all these fun and interesting people. They weren't like the fake and ignorant Americans I'm surrounded by all day in Barcelona - they were real, genuine, interesting. But I just sat there reading, half-listening to their conversations, and looking ahead patiently to the day when I can join them.

I met up with the guy from the shop, hoping for some equally interesting conversation. Instead, I found yet another annoying guy who mistakes my silence for some kind of coy flirtation, who fills the silence with comments intended to impress me and oh-so-original compliments about my beautiful eyes/hair/whatever. It seems like I find this guy more and more these days, or maybe I just notice it more now. The way they try to sound intelligent for the sake of trying to sound intelligent and the way they never really listen to me. The way they only chuckle when I attempt to say something of substance and reply "you're so beautiful." Please. First of all, I'm not that freaking beautiful - you're just happy because you're unattractive and uninteresting and you seem to think that I think otherwise and can't see through your stupid comments. I can. Leave me alone.

Needless to say, I was purely irritated by the time I got on the train home. But in the train were some very nice Spanish woman who did have genuine things to say and we chatted until I fell asleep in my little traincar bunkbed. That part was good.

tea, spices, and baths [granada, spain]

I woke up early from a great night's sleep in the world's cleanest, nicest, and most comfortable hostel - the Oasis Backpacker's Hostel in Granada. Yes, I'm endorsing it. I had some of the free breakfast they provided (toast and jelly, waffles, and coffee) and headed out the door to explore. I started out towards the cathedral and university. I took my time. Then I walked up to the Albayzin (old Arabic) neighborhood and the well-known Mirador de San Nicolas and got my first look at the Alhambra. It was a definite "wow" moment seeing the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas set back behind the palace. I found a small public garden that belonged to a mosque nearby and sat in the sun, enjoying my view for a bit.

I strolled over to the Sacromonte neighborhood known for the white-washed houses covering the hillside. I stopped at a local restaurant that was family-run and had quite a view of the Alhambra. The food was a lot heavier than in Barcelona, which I would attribute to the strong Arabic influence and that in poorer places they try to make food as filling as possible. Filling it was, and good, and I enjoyed the sun and relaxation.

I walked back down throught the heavily-graffitied streets and into some of the Arabic-influenced shops. They had hukkahs, tea, spices, lamps - a hippie paradise. (There are a lot of hippies in Granada.) The shopkeepers were incredibly friendly. I had at least 5 full-length conversations by the time I got down the hill. I think it may have had to do with the fact that they were all of some kind of Middle Eastern decent and all thought that I was Middle Eastern, but never-the-less, I got to practice my Spanish and also got some good discounts! Sometimes it's nice being a girl...

After that I headed to the Arabic bath house I booked online before I left. It was decorated as I would imagine a Arabic bath house to be decorated. There were arches and repeating tiles and a cave-like ceiling in one of the rooms. They served tea, which was the most delicious tea I've ever tasted. It was very sweet at first but then ended with a sharp mint that you could feel in your nose. I had about 5 cups. There was a cold room and a hot room. I spent most of the time in the hot room, but the cold room was really the best part. Getting into the water was difficult to do, but after I was all the way in I just felt refreshed, simply put. The hot water was soothing, but the cold was like a breath of fresh air. I also got a 15-minute massage, in a word: fantastic. When I stepped back out on to the street, it was like my second day in Granada. I felt new.

I walked around the streets a little longer and then headed back to the hostel for a much-needed nap. I woke up for the hostel's 3.50 Euro all-you-can-eat dinner at 9pm. They served mushroom soup, cucumber salad, and paella. I ate all I could, and had some nice conversations with strangers. Being around all the people made me feel lonely all of a sudden, but I brushed it off, had some dessert, and went back to my room to read before bed.

all alone [barcelona, spain]

I went through the motions all day, stressing about getting to the airport on time. Even having left my last class half an hour early (at 6:30pm) I was still nervous about getting there. But luckily, there were no lines to buy my ticket or check-in, which made me very happy and unable to complain when I found out the flight was delayed 3 hours. I had a pretty relaxing time in the airport and the plane left earlier than they had thought. They even gave everyone a discount on their next SpanAir flight, but unfortunately that will be my last!

The flight was good and we got to Granada around midnight. As I got onto the bus into the city, I really realized that I was completely alone - there was nobody to help figure out how to get to the hostel, there was nobody to meet up with, I didn't have any obligations about where to go or what to do, and not one person in the whole city knew who I was. But I didn't feel vunerable - I felt stronger than I ever have before.

castle on a cloud [morella, spain]

When we got up and got on to the bus Sunday morning we were all a little travelled out, but the bus ride promised a good 2-hour nap before our stop in Morella. Nobody knew what Morella was or where it was, and nobody was really looking forward to it. We hoped it was near the beach.

By the time we got off the main road and wound through the frightening mountain roads in our enormous bus, we all agreed this town better be pretty freaking good. It didn't look too hopeful, as the towns only got smaller and smaller, until we rounded one bend and saw a taller mountain topped with spiraling walls and a castle and all reluctantly agreed that it looked pretty cool. After much coaxing of the large bus, the driver managed to get us up to the city. The tour groups gathered up, and I wondered away. In perfect form, I might add.

I went into the little shops that lined the streets - all filled with goods from local farmers and artisans. There was honey, cheeses, knitted wool, carved wood, more. And all local. It was exactly what I have always been looking for. I fell in love with nearly everything I touched, and had to stop myself from buying it all.

I eventually made my way up to the top of the town which was in fact a series of walls that spiraled up to a castle. It was quite a walk up there and it got really windy, but I could only smile. It felt like at any moment you could just lift up and fly out into the empty mountains that stretched out for miles in every direction.

By the time I got back down to the waiting bus, I was floating.

redemption [valencia, spain]

After spending much of the morning in a painful state of recovery from the night before, I managed to drag myself out of the hotel room and down to the beach. It was about 76 degrees out, bright sun, breeze... you really can't argue about the weather there.

Valencia was in the midst of their Las Fallas celebrations that are centered around their intentionally noisy mascletas, or fireworks, which sound more like a WWII airstrike than a family-fun festival for the kids. What makes it worse is that they're set off randomly throughout the streets in such a way that you instinctively feel the urge to huddle under the nearest solid object in the fetal position.

At the beach I met up with friends and after a couple hours of wholesome beach fun - sunbathing, volleyball, soccer, a quick dip in the Mediterranean - we noticed hundreds of people surrounding a roped-off section of the beach and figured out that we had front row seats to the biggest mascleta show of all. We were wondering why everyone had gathered so early as it was only a little after 5pm and in the U.S. we tend to have fireworks after dark, but the show started at 6 in full daylight and was surprisingly wonderful.

It was extremely loud, but not like the single bursts of our fireworks shows - it was continuously loud... like a rapid-fire machine gun of sorts. The fireworks were less about the color of the flames, but the smoke they left behind, which resembled little white, yellow, and brown popcorn kernels floating against the bright blue sky. Then there were some that sparkled and some that just made the loudest possible bang; there were others that sent out bursts of confetti into the air, and one that exploded and left two flags, one of Valencia and one of Spain, attached to little parachutes to float slowly down into the ocean. It was so different and exciting it was like seeing fireworks for the first time again, and we all felt like little kids smiling and laughing to ourselves at each explosion. Between the sun, the sand, and the show, Valencia had redeemed itself.

peculiar city [valencia, spain]

The bus brought us around the old city and then to the new science and technology district. The old city has some really beautiful architecture that goes together very nicely, but then as you drive out of it there are poorly built apartment high-rises and whole blocks that are empty and overgrown with weeds. They have tried to imitate American culture there (fact, not opinion) and have big shopping malls stuck down in the middle of more strange empty fields, some with shanty towns in them. Then there's the river, which is now dry because Mediterranean Spain has completely exploited all of its natural local water supplies, and it's been turned into a park with modern sculpture. The beach is meant to imitate Southern California - miles of sand and palm trees and intentionally "SoCal" architecture - but then one block away there's rows and rows of what looks like housing projects that are absolutely falling apart. The science and technology area consists of a handful of monumentally large space-age buildings, not at all in context to the surrouding utilitarian apartment highrises... Don't get me wrong, there's some beautiful things to see, but the city is just so strange. It has no continuity, no binding factor. I really wasn't too impressed.

After walking around the area (pretty if taken as separate pieces), we headed as quickly as possible to the beach to catch some sun. The weather was in the low 70's and we were rather hopeful. Unfortunately it was hotter in the city center than on the windy beach, where the extremely fine and soft-to-walk-on sand was blasted into our faces at quite a speed. We gave up after a couple hours and took the 45-minute bus ride back into the center of the city.

I stopped by the hotel room and then decided to see some things on my own. I walked by a few buildings that I saw on postcards, though I couldn't tell you now what they were. They were nice. The only one that particularly sticks out in my mind was the bull ring. It was big and nice. Not much more than that. I got a churro, which tasted much like one would expect deep-fried dough to taste. I did really like their popular Valencian summer drink Orxata, or Horchata, which is made from soaking tigernuts in water with sugar. It's really sweet and very refreshing. I highly recommend it.

I returned to the hotel for a nap and some hotel dinner. We got ready and sat upstairs on my roommates' top-floor porch discussing politics and drinking wine. It got a little heated at times. We covered the war in Iraq, the Clinton scandal, Native American mascots, Obama and Hilary Clinton, and much more. The wine kept everyone in relatively good spirits. After that we headed out for some bars, where the Agua de Valencia (orange juice, cava [champagne], and vodka) truly did me in. On that note, I'll skip ahead to Saturday afternoon...

the voyage [valencia, spain]

Don't worry about the week, it was boring. Thursday I had to skip my last class to get on the poorly scheduled IES bus to Valencia. I was relieved to have so many friends on the trip, unlike in San Sebastian, and was also looking forward to a trip without planes.

The bus ride was long but relatively entertaining. The guy sitting across from us had to pee really bad and opted for a bottle - fantastic. We watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith - one of my favorites. We stopped at a crappy rest stop that brought me fond memories of the Jersey Turnpike. By the time the bus driver got lost in Valencia, stopped for directions, and we arrived at the hotel, it was pretty late so we all just went straight to bed.