That's all, folks!

So, here is the end. I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that I'm leaving Spain tonight, and that these 4 months have already passed by so quickly! I was worried that my last few days here would be tainted by the fact that everyone has been studying for exams, it has been miserably cold, and constantly icy-raining. In fact, I had to put on a pair of wet jeans this morning because ALL of my pants (and socks and shoes and coats, for that matter) are soaked through. Not one of the best feelings in the world. BUT luckily it cleared up yesterday afternoon and has been beautiful, if still FREEZING, and everyone has decided not to care about school anymore. I've always been on the apathy track, just waiting for everyone else to catch on. No matter how ready I may be now, looking back on my time here I have no trouble remembering that there was a time when I wasn't quite ready to rush back to America, no matter how full of wonderful friends and family, fireplaces, cars I can drive, and BBQ it may be.

I have learned so many things this semester, and I think I will continue to learn as I look back on my experiences. As a little reflection on my semester, here is a brief summary on my feelings on leaving Spain...
-I will miss Muesli Crujientes con Fresas y Almedrados. Even better than Special K with Red Berries. Not even kidding.
-I am going to miss schwarma and gelato. A lot. However, my dad has informed me that there's a schwarma restaurant on 20th St. so I will be hitting that up promptly upon my return.
-I will miss traveling, and especially the price of traveling. Ryan and I have become quite close over these last few months. However, I would be glad to never again here the techno music they play throughout the flight. The same song. The entire time.
-I will miss plazas and fountains on every block, and beautiful little streets, and living life in the street. However, my immune system and I will not miss walking through minefields of animal excriment to reach these beautiful locations.
-I am definitely not going to miss Spanish street culture (i.e. people are mean.) If I stare you down on the street, run you over without apologizing, don't say hello when I pass you on the street, or respond to everything you say with "claro", the quasi-equivelant of "duh.", please forgive me. I will try to rid myself of those parts of Spanish culture as quickly as possible.
-I will miss hearing at least 4 different languages every day, and meeting the people that go along with them.
-I will miss always being uncomfortable and being pushed into new experiences and new relationships. But heck, enough is enough. I'm ready to be in the places I know with the people I love!!!

I am headed now to our fancy farewell party, which will be a mix of lots of emotions and exhaustion that will probably result in hysterical delirium. I'm getting on a bus at 3 am to Malaga, and from there it's just a hop, skip and a jump across the Atlantic and I'll be in Birmingham late Thursday night!!!!

And here we are. The end of the end! Thanks for keeping up with this blog, listening to my rediculous stories that more often than not just prove what an idiot I am (sea urchins, anyone??)... I can't wait to see all of your faces in person and not just in your Facebook albums that I stalk!!! ...and That's All, Folks!

No.

I just got back from a fabulously romantic weekend with Molly in Galway (meaning I just took my last public bus in Europe - praise Jesus.). So much to say about the weekend, and so so little time. Here are a few things we did:

-Wore pajamas and warm socks and watched American TV while eating breakfast by the heater. Can't get much better than that.
-Sat and talked in a cafe, a Cathedral, the floor of a used bookstore, on the riverwalk, in her bed, etc.
-Went to pubs and listened to some sweet music.
-Made our own food.
-Sang U2 and Moulin Rouge while waiting for a bus to her friend's Christmas Party.
-Went to her friend's Christmas party and laughed at Irish accents, among other things.
-Watched The Office.
-Made a CD of men with deep voices.
-Ate at a delicious and romantic restaurant.

Also, Sally and 2 of her friends were in Galway for 2 days, so we got to hang out with them a bit. While Molly wrote a paper Saturday, I went on a tour of the countryside and the Cliffs of Mohor with them. We had a hilariously weird tour guide named Desmund. Photos coming soon.

I get home in less than 2 weeks. I can't wait to shamelessly participate in lots of American traditions like overeating and driving separate cars everywhere even when you could walk and/or carpool.

'Twas quite a jolly good time, indeed.

So sorry to leave you all hanging on my British adventures...I know you were hitting 'reset' every five minutes just waiting for this post to pop up... you don't even have to hide it. This week has been non-stop work. But, I've made it through the worst, and now I'm off to Ireland!

While obviously nothing can beat a hay ride and bonfire in Lincoln, Alabama, my Thanksgiving weekend came pretty darn close. First let me say that it was absolutely splendid being in a place where English is spoken - and with such a lovely accent to top it off! For the record, people in England really do use words like "jolly", "'twas", "inkling", and "bril." (short for "brilliant") in their everyday speech. And there really are bright red double-decker busses and phone booths. And university students live exactly like Harry Potter. I always thought it was just in the movies...

I arrived in Cambridge late Wednesday afternoon and was greeted by the lovely Miss Ellen. She was too kind to let me take her bed for 2 nights while she slept on the couch! Ellen and I then went to Christ's College to have tea with her friend Alice (who reminded me of Corinne, so obviously I loved her.) and then to dinner with a few of her other friends. We then went to Christ College's Christian Union meeting, which Ellen has been going to all semester, and which was so wonderful! It was really only about 15 students, but it was so refreshing to be with other Christians. AND I met a girl who lived in Huntsville when she was in Elementary school... that was bizarre. After CU we walked around a good bit, went to the grocery store and bought about 10 boxes of what turned out to be cornstarch instead of cornmeal, and went back to the house to start cooking for our feast.

The next morning Ellen gave me a quick tour so I could get my bearings and then she went to class and I went off exploring. Cambridge is amazing. I would totally live there. I know I've said that about other cities, but I really mean it about this one. The colleges are all absolutely beautiful, and there's lots of grass (that is protected by law...), and the city just has a really wonderful scholarly feel (which I loved...that might make me a dork.) That afternoon we cooked... and by that I mean Ellen cooked and I tried not to get in the way of the master. I did contribute by doing things I'm good at like snapping beans, cracking eggs, etc. I still can't really believe that we cooked a Thanksgiving meal for over 20 people by ourselves... quite a feat. We cooked right up until dinner time, when Ellen's housemates and some Cambridge friends (and later her professor and his wife) all joined us for our meal. We told our Thanksgiving traditions (the lake/hayride/bonfire totally won, by the way.), said what we are thankful for, and tried to explain Thanksgiving to the Brits. It was wonderfully cheasy.

The next morning, Ellen and I woke up early to go punting (punt=England's version of a gondola), and then headed to London! The train ride was beautiful, and it made me want to live there more. We arrived at our friends Andrew and Andy's house to drop our stuff and headed out to meet Kendra. We went to Westminster Abbey and saw lots of famous people's graves or something like that. It was cool. When we got out it was dark, because apparently England thinks it's ok to get dark at 3:30. Then we sped through the National Gallery and then to a nice dinner and the Queen's Theater to see Les Miserables! It was absolutely fabulous!! The next day we did a few more touristy things like go to Herrod's and Burough Market (free gourmet food is such a wonderful idea.) and then back to the house to help cook for Thanksgiving feast #2. That afternoon i heard "Sweet Home Alabama" in a grocery store and may or may not have shed a tear. A bunch of different London people came over that night and we feasted and watched football. It was great. Andrew and Ellen walked me to the bus stop at 3:00 am in the cold rain. They are really good friends.

Overall, fabulous weekend - good friends, good food, great language. I love Cambridge. The end.

"The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round..."

...and around...and around...and around.

This weekend I went to Santiago de Compostela. It is far away. I spent 38 hours on a bus. Worth it? Absolutely.

Santiago de Compostela is a small city in Galicia, the northwestern region of Spain. Everything about Galicia and Santiago is different from Granada - the language (they speak Gallego, not Castilian Spanish), the landscape (rolling green hills, misty rivers everywhere), the architecture (moss-covered stone with red tile roofs), and even the way the people look. Santiago is the endpoint (Compostela) of one of the most famous pigramages in Europe - the Camino de Santiago, or Way of St. James. The remains of St. James were supposedly brought here to Santiago in the early years of Christian history, and are thought to be hidden somehwere in the Cathedral still today. Pilgrams still walk the camino every day, but today it is much less of a religious act, and more of a cultural act or a time of introspection. A fewpeople (inluding my best friend Lonely Planet) told me that this was the most beautiful city in Spain, and I had a free weekend, so Megan and I set off on our epic journey...

We caught the first of many busses for the weekend Thursday night to the bus station, rode the 5 hours to Madrid, changed buses, and arrived at Santiago around 9 am Friday morning, only to take yet another bus to our hostel. The receptionist promplty greeted us with the lovely phrase, "We have a problem". Not something you ever want to hear, especially not coming from your assumed means of shelter in a cold, rainy city, but it is surprising how things like the thought of not having somewhere to sleep don't really phase me anymore. Turns out, they overbooked and we had lost our room for the first night. Normally this would mean we were just out of luck, but this hostel was really nice and had booked us a room in a real live hotel for the same price! So we went to the hotel, checked in, unloaded, and set out on a mission.

There were two things we really wanted to do on this trip: rent bikes to ride on the Camino de Santiago and go trout fishing, both of which we had seen on the Santiago website. So first thing, we headed to the tourism office to inquire about our adventures. Sadly, they had no idea what we were talking about. But they could give us a map, they said. Thanks? Both leads ended up coming up empty, which was sad, but equipped with our new map, we headed out to see the sights. We started at the Cathedral, which is really the only real sight, and stared at the pilgrams as they stared at what they had been walking towards for months. I feel no matter what it was that I was walking towards, it would be a huge let-down whenever I finally got there, but that's just me. Then we grabbed some lunch and wandered around the city some more, following the marked tour on our map. The city was absolutely beautiful. It looked more like an old Irish or Scotish city, or at least what I would imagine one would look like. I'll let you know for sure in a few weeks. That night we had a fabulous dinner of kebabs (they're invading the world, and I'm a ok with it.) and later completely our romantic evening with a delicious desert of Tarta de Santiago in our hotel room, complete with Sufjan Steven's Christmas album playing in the background.

Saturday morning, we got up, checked out of the hotel, checked in to the hostel, and finished our tour of Santiago (which, I must agree, has got to be the most beautiful city in Spain. Take a gander at the photos and see for yourself...). The city felt really homey, and it really made me want to curl up in one of those houses in front of a fireplace with a big mug of real coffee and American football (specifically Alabama football) on the TV. Soon, soon. Around 12, we headed back to the bus station to take a bus to the coast. Even though we couldn't go fishing, we wanted to see the coast, and the tourist lady said it was only 30 minutes away, so off we went. There were 2 towns we were going to visit - Muros, the larger and more developed of the two (supposedly), and Noia, which was a little closer. We drove on back roads, passing through a bunch of tiny little towns in the middle of nowhere Spain on the way to the coast, which was absolutely amazing - even better than renting bikes! After about an hour, we finally reached the Noia bus station, but decided to go on to Muros and stop in Noia on the way back. Expecting another 15 minutes max, we waited to arrive at the Muros bus station. After another hour or so, and a landscape (and a bus) that increasingly lacked population, we became suspicious that we had missed our stop in Muros somehow. But the bus was supposed to be ending in Muros, so we decided to wait a little longer before deciding how the heck we were going to get back. It was not long until we saw the sign (Muros - 17 km in the direction you are not going) that confirmed the fact that we were in fact lost (once again) on public transportation. Just when I think I've got it figured out, my friend PT loves to make sure I know I will never master it. So we played the stupid card (not difficult) and asked the bus driver in our sweetest, most innocent voices, "Excuse me, sir, how long until we get to Muros?". He was not pleased to tell us that Muros was 30 minutes ago, but he reluctanlty called his bus driver friend who was going in the other direction, and he stopped and drove us back to town. Turns out, we didn't stop at the bus station in Muros (why? don't know.), but if we had, we wouldn't have known because it's basically a pier with a bus or two parked on it. We walked around Muros for about 15 minutes, saw a really cool rainbow, lots of pretty boats, and then got nervous about getting back to Santiago, so we got back on the bus and watched the tide go out as we drove along the coast.

That night, because our hostel had a kitchen, and neither Megan nor I had prepared our own food in months, we decided to cook dinner. We went grocery shopping, saw some protest about something regarding the Polish press, and returned to make some made delicious pasta and natilla, our favorite Spanish desert. Once again, we had a nice, romantic night (Ellen, you've got quite an evening to top, here.), and headed to bed early. The next morning we packed up and headed back to the bus station (the part of Santiago we saw most), and hopped on the bus back to Madrid.

Riding to Madrid, though long, was amazing, and absolutly worth the whole trip. We watched while the landscape changed from green, misty hills dotted with lonely cottages and the occasional stone church, to big green mountains, carved by rivers and smattered with tiny villages and farmland, to drier, craggier hills filled with vineyards, rolling into sprawling plains, completely flat, filled with wheat and the occasional a lonely cowboy or shepherd with his flock of sheep, to huge, industrialized farms, stopping in 10 or 12 tiny towns along the way, and just after the sun set over the plains, all of that changed into the sprawling metropolis that is Madrid. I know that sounds like it's from a story book, but I kid you not - it was real. We also saw a very large bull-shaped billboard, a strange rock carving, and a few random castles. They also played the safety video after every time we stopped.


I am back in Granada for 2 days, with more papers to write than will physically fit in that time, and then I leave again Wednesday morning for thanksgiving in England! I'll be with staying with Ellen in Cambridge, cooking the best Thanksgiving feast you can imagine, then we'll be heading to London for touring and Thanksgiving feast #2, and of course the Ironbowl. Nothing will ever beat hayrides and bonfires at the lake, but this Thanksgiving may come pretty close.

I hope you all have a great time with family, enjoying American things like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, turkey, stores that give you change, and football. I will be back in no time!



Ok, this doesn't do any justice to what we saw, but it's all I've got...

Another week gone by...

Yet another week gone by, and when I decided it was time to start listening to Christmas carols on repeat (they don't celebrate Thanksgiving, so there's no one telling me it's not time to start yet...), I realized how quickly this semester has flown by!! I can't believe I only have a little over a month left here!

Last week I played catch up on sleep and work and friends after having my parents here. I may or may not have slept for 17 hours over a 24 hour period between Wednesday and Thursday.... I got a lot of research done in (one of) the (many) University of Granada libraries for some of my papers. Researching in libraries is difficult anyway, but trying to do research in a Spanish library is nearly impossible. Especially when the books about the same topic are scattered throughout libraries all across the city. Why do the Spaniards have to make things so difficult? I've settled for using Wake library's database for English sources, and then translating the information into Spanish (which adds a step to the process, but saves money on bus tickets).

Saturday morning, the best part of my week arrived at the train station around 8:45... Sally came to visit!!!!! It was so fabulous to have her here!! We found her hostel (which was possibly the best hostel I've ever seen - if you're ever in Granada, stay at Hostal Oaisis!), dropped off her things, and went to wander around! We got some coffee at the IES favorite, Pilar, walked around the Cathedral/Alcaecería/tea and spice market area for a bit, as well as the free areas of the Alhambra and the Manuel de Falla park (home to a peck of "wild" peacocks!), and then we decided to rent bikes! We actually thought we were renting a scooter, and were slightly disappointed at first that it was only a motorized bike, but quickly learned that we would have died had they actually been scooters. What is a motorized bike, you ask? Well, I still don't really know, but I know it was battery-powered, and when you pedal it gives you an extra little boost, so you really don't have to exert any physical energy... it's great! We rode all around the city, only narrowly escaping being killed by cars and running into pedestrians, buildings, and/or other stationary objects. After becoming sufficiently afraid of the main roads, and when the sidewalks became too crowded for slightly out-of-practice bikers, we rode along the river out of the city a bit. It was beautiful, and so nice to be out of the city! I was surprised to find out that the algea- and trash-filled stagnant mess that Granada calls a "river" actually comes froma lush, clean, flowing brook! We took in the beautiful views of the Sierras, filled our lungs with clean-ish, smoke free-ish air, and enjoyed the beautiful day and beautiful company. We also passed some weird things, like what looked like the partial remains of a circus and a small girl pooping in a park along with her parents looking on approvingly.... Later Saturday afternoon, Sally and I watched the sunset from San Nicolas/the Mosque overlook and headed back down to the center for some tapas, and of course a visit to Mauricio for some churros!! Sunday morning we grabbed some breakfast, and then I sent her on her way after a sad goodbye! The weekend was rejuvinating - full of good times, good weather and good conversation.

Funny side note: Today, I was sitting on a bench reading, and this cat that looked like a much younger, much less fat, and much less crazy Sox, came up and started walking in between my legs like cats do. It seemed clean, so I didn't kick it. Then it jumped up on the bench and kept trying to crawl in my lap just like Sox does. I kept pushing it off but it kept coming back. Finally it settled for sitting on my bag right next to me and staring at me. It was just like I was sitting on the couch at home trying every possible way to keep Sox from crawling into my lap, except this cat was not staring and hissing at things that do not exist. Lots of little kids walked by and commented on how cute my cat was... it was not my cat.

This week, again, will be full of paper-writing, or at least feeling like I should be paper-writing. It seems that when people told me you don't have to do any work abroad, they were misleading me. It's a good thing I'm a quite practiced, nearly professional slacker. Most of my friends are going to be in either Paris or Barcelona this weekend (and since I have already been to those places, I did not feel like I needed to accompany them... although I'm sure they would have appreciated my expert guiding skillz), so hopefully I'll get most of this paper junk out of the way! My last weekends here are chock-full of traveling, which I am SO EXCITED about! I am hopefully going to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia not this weekend but the next, then Cambridge/London for a long weekend over Thanksgiving, and then Ireland to visit Molly right before we start exams... so get ready for some amazing adventure stories!! Love you all, and can't wait to see you sort of soon!!!

"Yep, the Griswolds (I mean Elliotts) are Back."

"For over two thousand years, Europe has survived many great disasters. Now for the real test. The Elliotts are coming from America!"

Yep, you guessed it! Shirley and George ventured across the big pond to the foreign lands of exact-change-loving, tight-pants-wearing , nasty-pigeon-feading crazy Europeans! It was quite a weekend, filled with some hilarious Griswold-esque moments, and a lot of quality family time!

The weekend began Thursday when, after a longer-than-planned bus trip to Málaga, I arrived at the airport about 2 hours after my parents should have landed. However, they were still not answering their phones, and they were nowhere to be found. Of course, I immediately thought they were dead, and the Air France people just looked at me like I was an idiot when I asked them where my parents were. Finally, I sneakily walked past the security guards into the baggage claim area, and there they were! Sadly, my parent's first view of Spain was checked bag-less at a dark, rainy, lonely train platform. But eventually we made it to the train station, onto our not-quite-as-romantic-as-the-promotional-video overnight train, and into our impossibly small sleeping car (along with our little brother Extrabed Elliott). Talk about some family bonding time. We spent some time in the "bar car", Daddy's fave, and hit the sack. Obvi I called the top bunk.

We woke up not-so-bright and early when we arrived in Valencia at about 5 am! Again, all my parents have seen of Spain so far is dark and rainy. We wandered around the main square of Valencia a little bit before finally finding somewhere to stop for a bit of breakfast and caffeine. After consulting Rick (Steves - our new best friend.), we discovered that there was in fact one place in all of Valencia open before 10am, so we headed for the Central Market. Valencia's market is one of the largest in all of Europe, and it was so cool seeing all of the chefs coming in early to get their produce and meat for the day. After exploring every aisle (Daddy made sure we went in order, from top to bottom, so we didn't miss one), we bought a delicious baguette, fresh cheese and olive oil, Valenciano oranges, and some dried fruit and nuts for breakfast and snacks. The meal was quite delicious, until this one pigeon that was hanging around us decided to call all his pigeon friends from within a quarter-mile radius to come attack our food. After that, the delicious food seemed to lose it's appeal. That morning was all kind of a blur... we saw some old famous things and walked around a bunch. We went to the art museum and Cathedral. We saw the withered arm of St. Vincent (cool? creepy? you decide.) and the Holy Grail (or at least what is recognized by the Vatican as the Holy Grail. It looked a little too Gothic to me...). We had paella at the port at the same restaurant as some famous person and got lost on the way back. We were tired and our feet hurt. So we went back to the train station and waited for our train to Barcelona.

Barcelona was, yet again, dark and rainy, but after finding our hotel located right in the middle of everything on Las Ramblas, it was a much happier dark and rainy. We immediately went to sit out at a café and do some people watching. To give you a little idea, Las Ramblas in kind of like a less-sketchy Bourbon Street... it was Halloween, and people are extra weird on Halloween. It was possibly the best people watching you could ever imagine. I could have sat there for days and not gotten bored. We finally crawled into bed around 1 or 1:30, after what could have been the longest day of my life (or at least of my parents' lives...)!!

After getting some much-needed rest, we spent Saturday doing the tourist thing. We went to Plaza Catalunya, Gaudi's la Sagrada Familia (still unfinished - "My Client is in no hurry", he said.), did a little shopping to tide us over until the luggage came (Daddy sat outside), walked up and down Las Ramblas, went to the port, etc. etc. That night we went to a nice dinner and did some more people watching. Sunday morning, we explored some cool, less touristy parts of town on the way to the Cathedral and the Picasso Museum (maybe my favorite museum so far?), headed back to the hotel and started the long trek to the airport and back to Granada.

We arrived in Granada about 9:00 pm Sunday night and grabbed some dinner before Mama and Daddy headed back to the hotel and I headed home to fnally get some clean clothes and a good shower! They toured the Alhambra Monday morning while I was in class, which they loved. Sadly, Daddy's camera met it's match with some 10,ooo-year-old stones. We met up after my classes, and I introduced them to the wonders of Doner Kebab (Moroccan fast food). We wandered around Granada and saw the sights, then headed back to my apartment for coffee and delicious cake with my madre, Sole. She was really giddie and was talking really fast, which made it difficult to translate, but it was fun nonetheless. I really lucked out and have a great host mother. Then we toured the Albaycin a bit, watched the sunset from Mirador de San Nicolas, then headed back down to meet a bunch of my friends (some of whom also had family in town) for tapas.

The next morning after breakfast, I put them in a cab, told the driver where to take them, and they were on their way! It was really fun having them here and letting them see what my life has been like for the past 3 months. And for the most part, they behaved.

Things are pretty much back to normal here. Besides that fact that Granada has turned into an icebox. I am already wearing long underwear, mittens, and a pea coat every day to class. What am I going to do in December?? This week I will be trying to figure out how to do research in a Spanish library, and then Saturday morning Sally comes to visit!!! I am so so so excited to see her... it should be a great few days!! Hope all of you are doing well!

PS-Meme, clearly the note to "Mr. Customs Officer" worked, because the cookies made it through, and have been thoroughly enjoyed!!!

A few things that are shortening my lifespan...

To all of those who have sent me so much love in the form of letters, postcards, or packages: THANK YOU SO MUCH! Y'all are the best. I've been a slacker about writing back BUT... your love is now being returned! NOTICE: If you receive a postcard, and the date on the postcard leads you to believe that it took 2 months to reach you, do not be deceived: Although these postcards were sent today, they were actually written about a month and a half ago... woops!

Another notice: Today is the first day of Daylight Savings in Spain, so now we are 5 hours ahead of Eastern time and 6 hours ahead of Central. The clock reflects this change.

Final notice: If you publically proclaim that you have successfully avoided an illness, the illness gods will smite you. Yes, it seems that I have caught whatever bug was going around IES, and it has come with a vengance. I should have known...

This past week has been full of midterms, and they're not over yet. Not my idea of fun in Spain, but studying here is still more fun than studying in the good ole US of A, so I can handle it. Sadly, it is not normal, but rather a bit rude, to study in cafes here. But, since the only other place we have to study is our rooms, which can get old and clausterphobic, my friends and I have become regulars at Café Fútbol, where the waiters have resigned to the fact that we WILL be studying there, even though they sigh loudly and give us annoyed looks every time we come in, and continue to give us annoyed looks when we stay for hours and only buy one or two coffees. I think they're starting to warm up to us, though. They make fun of us less, and sometimes our favorite waiter Mauricio even gives us free churros.

This weekend has been just fabulous. Friday, I woke up and went to study at this little children's library near my house that I had heard about. It was perfect. There were a few classes of cute little kindergarteners who came in to learn about how to use a library. Sadly, it's only open a few hours a day on weekdays. That afternoon, I went and mailed my absentee ballot. Hopefully it gets there, because I don't think the woman really understood me when I told her it needed to be a "reliable express mail carrier". Oh well. Then I went to do a little more reading on a bench in front of Fuente de las Batallas, a big fountain in the center of town. Obviously I did more people watching than reading. And obviously, since I am in Spain and personal space does not exist, even though there were plenty of empty benches, I was constantly accompanied on my bench by cute, old, chain-smoking Spanish men. I think I am taking years off of my life by the amount of cigarette smoke I am inhaling here. But I had some interesting conversations with the Spanish men, and they all complimented me on my Spanish speaking abilities, which (whether true or not...) gave me a much needed confidence booster. That night, I celebrated Megan (one of my friends here)'s 21st birthday.... and (per her request. not mine. I like sleep.) stayed out until Café Fútbol opened at 6:30 am. After some early-morning churros con chocolate, I crawled into bed as the sun was rising at 7:30. That probably took a few days off my lifespan, too. Only in Spain.

Clearly, Saturday was mostly consumed with sleeping. But that afternoon, Liz (a friend who also goes to Wake) and I went to an Irish pub that has wireless to watch the Wake-Miami game. Sadly, we couldn't find it on ESPNU, so we had to watch the video game-type figures reenact it on Gametracker. And even more sadly, we lost. But it's ok, because Bama won, and I am in love with Nick Saban. Saturday night, we all went to a fancy dinner for Megan's birthday at an absolutely delicious Italian restaurant... I ate way too much, and will be full for days.

Today, I am doing a bit more studying , and going to meet another friend's parents tonight. After finishing all my midterms and papers this week, I'm going straight from class on Thursday to meet my parents in Málaga, and we're headed to Valencia and Barcelona before coming back to Granada for a few days! I'm so excited to see them and to get to show them all I've been doing this semester!

I love and miss you all so much, and I hope you're all doing well! ROLL TIDE!!!!!!

The New Boring...

Per orders from Dawson and the Wiley-man, and because I don't want to study, and because I don't have to study since my grades don't go into my GPA (just kidding, Daddy... sort of.), I am going to write a post even though I haven't done anything exciting since the last one.

We did take a day trip to Córdoba on Friday for our Islamic Art History class, but that wasn't very exciting. It was interesting, but it was an all-day class, nonetheless, and on a Friday at that. Some friends and I were going to go camping in the Alpujaras or Sierra Nevadas this weekend, but it's already snowing there, so we decided that might not be wise, seeing as the warmest things I have here is a fleece pullover. So this week I've just caught up on sleep, caught up with friends, successfully avoided the bug that's been going around IES (so far...), come to the sad realization that I have to write a quite lengthy research paper for all 5 of my classes--in Spanish--by the end of the semester, done some more good wandering around Granada, studied on some park benches (sometimes next to sketchy men, sometimes next to nice old ladies, sometimes by myself), eaten lots of picnics in plazas with amigas, drunk lots of tea and café, and planned my Thanksgiving meal with Ellen, which is sure to be a supreme culinary experience, complete with sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, roasted chestnuts, and (hopefully) sweet old British professors. The best part of the week was either finding out about Max and Deby's baby, Ana Isabel!!!!, or possibly this morning when my madre decided to cook my roommate and I (something kind of like) pancakes to remind us of America... both were terrific!

Right now, I'm gearing up for the next 2 weeks of midterms and paper deadlines, and then my parents come!!!! It's crazy that I'm already half-way done with my time here in Spain. I think I am equally excited about still having a whole half left to go--sure to be even better than the first half, and of course chock-full of fun adventures--and only having half way left to go until I get to see all of you, communicate without significant effort, and easily be able to figure out if the sign on the door says "push" or "pull". I hope all of you Wake kids have had a wonderful Fall break, and that everyone has a great week!!!

The City of Blinding Lights

Well, folks, it's been a while. Let that be a sign to you that I am actually having fun here in Spain, and not wasting too much time on the computer. The past 2 weeks (has it really been that long?) since Morocco have been full of one after another beautiful days in the neighborhood. I figured out how to get streaming video on my laptop (they have restrictions on it when you're outside the US), which means that now I can watch FOOTBALL!!! This makes me so happy, I can't even describe it. And Wake Forest's program in Salamanca came down to Granada at the beginning of last week for a few days, so I got to see some Wake friends and show them around the city. It was so fun to a) hang out with people who had known me more than a month, b) be able to talk about Wake Forest and know that the people I am talking to actually care, and c) be the one who knows what they're doing in the foreign city (usually I'm the lost, confused one)!

After my first full week of class in a while (4 days in a row... it was rough.), I left Friday night for a weekend in Paris!!! I arrived at the Madrid bus station (after a fabulous 5-hour bus ride sitting next to a man with a very long mullet), and then the Madrid airport at 2 a.m. Saturday morning ready to camp out for the night. After reading 3 articles and one act of Bodas de Sangre, and writing 2.5 papers, I found a nice, soft, almost-clean square of carpet on which a car was displayed and fell asleep (sort of) with images of Tom Hanks in The Terminal dancing in my head. Saturday morning I woke up, had a cafe, finished a paper, flew to Paris, conquered the Paris public transportation system, met Ellen, and we found our hostel... all before lunch! It was so so good to see Ellen (again, having someone around who has known you for more than a month is a nice feeling), and we decided we'd make our trip as much like a weekend-long date as possible, since we were in the City of Love.

The first stop (and first of many picnic locations) was the Eiffel Tower, where we met up with Kendra, who was on the tail end of her Paris trip, for lunch on the lawn. It was just like you'd imagine... a huge, green lawn with people everywhere lounging and talking and eating baguettes and cheese... it was fabulous. After wandering around basically all of Paris that afternoon, we decided to return and partake in the oh-so-touristy ritual. We pretty much saw all of Paris that we wanted to see that afternoon and night through our wanderings. On foot. We were tired.

The next day, after sleeping a little later than planned, we embarked on our tour of Paris's tourist attractions. We began with the Louvre, which was a bit overrated. The Mona Lisa was cool, I guess, but it looked the same as in every photo I've ever seen, and there were too many people to get close to it. Then we took a picnic break and headed to the Musee d'Orsay, which is housed in a beautiful old train station, and was my favorite so far. We saw tons of Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, Picasso, Degas, Cezanne, and other Impressionists and Post-Impressionists. That afternoon we went to the top of the belltower at Notre Dame, which was gorgeous, headed back to the Tuileries to rest and people watch, and found (after some searching) some delicious and reasonably-priced French onion soup for me and escargo for Ellen. After dinner, and a brief trip back to the hostel to doctor some blisters, we went to the top of Arc du Triomphe and wandered down Champ d'Elysees.

Monday morning we got up early to see the L'Orangerie, which houses Monet's Waterlillies. These paintings were the kind that, no matter how many times you look at them on slides or how much you study them, you can never do them justice unless you sit in the middle of them. Probably my favorite work of art. After sitting and gawking for a while, we headed out to Versailles, and,, even though the chateau, museum, and apartment of Marie-Antionette were all closed, it was so worth it to enjoy the gardens and the town. We got a baguette and took a small siesta in the grass under some beautiful yellow oak trees surrounded by statues of who I'm sure were very famous people. It was one of those surreal moments where you have to stop and remind yourself that yes, this is in fact your life.

I got back to Granada at about 5 am, set my alarm for 8, heard it at 8, rolled over and turned it off, and skipped my 9 am class. When I got back for lunch, my madre had made a delicious meal to welcome me home, and even played French music at lunch(at least it sounded French, and I told myself it was in my honor...)! I'm here this week, trying to get a handle on what right now seems like a lot of work, but at this time next semester I'm sure will not. I hope you are all enjoying fall and football for me!!!

where the streets have no name.

Morocco is a country for the senses. The vibrant colors and the breathtaking views, the strong smells of spices in the streets and burning trash along the roads, and the permeating call to prayer five times daily were overwhelming. This trip was an experience like no other. I discovered so many things about the Arab culture and the religion of Islam that changed so many of my misconceptions that I haven't quite been able to process it all yet. But here is my attempt at describing the trip: beware, it may be quite lengthy.

The first day of the adventure (Friday) was spent in Gibraltar, the British territory on the tip of the Iberian peninsula. It was a bizarre place - it felt very British (complete with red telephone booths and fish and chips), but also African (apes everywhere), and not so much Spanish, even though it is mere feet from Spain. However, I was especially excited about this part of the trip because my anscestor, General George Agustus Elliott, was the one who defended Gibraltar in the Seige of Gibraltar in the late 18th century. I just knew there was going to be a great plaque I could take a picture with. Turns out, there's not only a plague, but also a statue and a hotel named after the general. All the locals were impressed, even in awe, when I told them who I was. One local, after I spent considerable effort convincing him that I was in fact telling the truth, even told me that in Gibraltar, being related to General Elliott is the equivilant of being related to Abe Lincoln in the States. Perfecto. We took a tour of the island, grabbed some fish and chips for dinner, then headed back to the hotel for the night.

Saturday morning we woke up early to catch the ferry to Tangier. Welcome to Africa, continent number five checked off my list. When we got off the ferry, we met our guide, Daren (lovingly nicknamed D-Magic). We went with a guide company called Morocco Exchange (a great organization which was started by a German, but is now mostly run by Americans who know Morocco very well) that takes Americans and Western Europeans to Morocco with the goal of challenging their perceptions of the Arab world and, at the same time, the Arab world's perceptions of Westerners. Our guide quickly informed us that this was his first trip to lead by himself, and that we might get lost a few times. Bueno. In Tangier, we first went to a market to buy lunch. I guess this is how everyone else in the world does it, but the meat section was a bit graphic. Heads, inards, tails everywhere, and the chickens were still twitching. The sights were not so bad, but the smell really got me. We then walked to Darna, a women's center right in the center of Tangier that takes in women and teaches them to read and write, and also teaches them a trade so that they can support themselves. At the center, we had a discussion with three Moroccan students. They were all pursuing their Masters degree, so their perspective was a little more progressive than the typical Moroccan, but it was very intersting to be able to ask them questions and understand their viewpoints. One thing that stuck out to me from this descussion was their perception of Americans. We asked many people in Morocco about their perception of Americans and always the response was the same. No Arabs agree with the international politics of the United States, which is understandable - I don't think you would either if you lived there. But they all separate the political realm of the U.S. with the popular realm. Not a single person we spoke with had any negative feelings towards the American people, but were almost infatuated with Americans and American culture. We then had a delicious meal of soup, couscous, vegetables, and Moroccan mint tea and hopped back on the bus.

After Tangier, we started the trek to Rabat, making a few stops on the way. First, we stopped at Asilah, a beautiful, quiet little town on the Atlantic Ocean that reminded me a little of Santorini. Then we stopped on the side of the road to ride some camels along the beach. In Africa. No big deal. Lastly, we stopped just before Rabat at sundown so our driver could break fast and pray (it was Ramadan, so everyone was fasting from sun up to sun down - in fact, we couldn't eat or drink in the streets, either.)

We finally arrived in Rabat, the capital of Morocco, and our home base for the trip. We were paired with homestay families and Lauren, Erika, and I walked with Hannen, our host sister, to our home. From the streets, the city of Rabat looks very plain, almost sad. But the inside of the homes are absolutely spectacular (our home especially so because it had a western toilet...). This is very typical of Islamic architecture, so I've learned in my art history class. It has to do with the idea of keeping the private sphere private. And much of the socializing is done in the homes, as opposed to Spain where it is all in the streets. Anyway, there is no way I will be able to describe here all I saw and experienced in the homestay, but the family was so different than I thought they would be. I was surprised at all of the things that reminded me of any given home or family in the United States, and the family was extremely generous and hospitable.

Sunday, we met with a Moroccan professor who has written many books on the relationship between the Arab world and the west. The most interesting thing I learned from this discussion, and possibly what stuck out most from the whole trip, was about how the religion of Islam has been manipulated. Just as with any religion or idealogy, when the masses are illiterate, the texts can be manipulated for political or monetary gain (there are many examples of this in Christian history, especially from the period of the Crusades and the Middle Ages). Some very interesting examples of this are burkah/hijab/women's dress as well as Islamic extremism. Ask me more about it - I was really interested in it, but to discuss it here-would only make this post longer... which clearly is not necessary.

Anyway, then we went to some Roman ruins and a Mosoleum. They were sort of interesting. Just look at the pictures. Then came Sunday night, which was chock-full of surreal experiences. First, we had break fast with the family, which was delicious, of course. They make a dangerously heavy soup, which is accompanied by ever so many delicious sweets. That is only the appetizer, of course. After break fast we somehow communicated toour family (in charades) that we needed buckets, because we were going to the hammam, the Arab baths. Sounds great, right? Actually, it was hilariously uncomfortable. We begacotyn the adventure by trekking down the street with our buckets and showering materials, as if to announce to the citye of Rabat that we are off to bathe. Kind of normal? So then we arrive at the hammam, purchase our scrubbers, and head to the changing room. This is where things get uncomfortable. Let's just say that the ladies in the baths would not let me cover myself quite as much as I would have liked... Just try to imagine 7 less-than-covered American girls in a small, steamy room crowded with lots of less-than-covered Moroccan women and girls dumping hot water on eachother and scrubbing eachother until their skin peels off. Quite the cultural experience. After the baths, sqeaky clean and closer than ever before, the girls headed to one of the host families' homes to get our hands and feet tatooed with henna, which is a Moroccan tradition for special occasions. Then, after I wiped my nose with my henna on the way home (an orange nose for three weeks? splendid.), our family fed us. Again. Because the first dinner wasn't enough. The problem was that I had wet henna on my hands, so my host sister, Fati, fed me the entire meal... a hilariously bizarre experience in itself.

Monday morning we left Rabat for the Rif Mountain region of Morocco to spend the day with a family that lives in a remote village. This day showed us that Morocco is a land of extremes. The difference in quality of life between the cities and the country was astounding. Whereas in the city, there are more women in universities than men, in the villages, for many children the closest school is 10km away, and roads to get there are rare. The average boy living in the country gets 6 years of education, and most girls never learn to read or write. However, the family we spent the day with was amazing, and again extremely hospitable and generous. The matriarch of the family, Fati, petitioned the government for years to have a road built to the village just 5 years ago after her daughter in law became one of the many women to
die in childbirth because of lack of access to medical care.

Overall, the trip was eye-opening, and I wish I could share more of what I learned with you here, but alas, that would take too many blog entries. I am back in Granada now, patiently awaiting the moment when I find Greys and the Office (and maybe the presidential debate) online... Until next time.

Dear Andy, my love for you is unconditional.

What a week it's been!!! We started classes Monday. I have loved settling into a routine, and my classes are all very interesting. Sadly, my one class that is in English is harder to understand than all the rest because the professor's English is pretty bad. But it's ok, because the professor reminds me or Ray on Everybody loves Raymond. All of the professors are really relaxed, and we call them all by their first names, which seemed weird at first, but is very Spanish, I suppose.

This week, I've kind of figured out what normal will look like for me. I typically wake up, do not speak to anyone, sit in silence and stare into space while I eat a small breakfast. Then I will walk to school, pass by the morrocan pants I want to buy, have Spanish class from 9-10, go grab a café con leche, sit and sip, maybe do some homework or read a newspaper, have more class from 11-2, and pass by the moroccan pants again on my walk home. When I get home, I say hola to Sole, my madre, go to my room and wait for Sole to come into my room and whisper "lunch is ready" (I haven't figured out why she always whispers it...), and go back to my room and take a small siesta or maybe do some work or skype with some people. Most afternoons I don't have class, so I'll either go walk around or find a park bench or table at a café and read or something, run errands, etc. Then around 9 or so, I will usually meet up with people for either a picnic in a plaza or tapas (a Granada tradition - free food when you order a drink!!!), always followed by the daily icecream I have become accustomed to. It's so nice to have figured out the city enough to know my favorite cafés and tapas bars, my favorite parks and park benches, the best/closest grocery store, the place where they give you the most icecream for the least dinero, where I can run into other IES students if I want to, where I won't see any Americans if I don't want to, where the cheap shoes are, etc. etc. And I've noticed that instead of automatically assuming I'm an American, people have started speaking to me in Spanish, which can only mean that I'm looking more and more like a hippie each day. Mission accomplished.

I've done lots of exciting things this week that deserve recounting, such as going to the best restaurant I've been to thus far in Europe, going to a tetería (Arab tea house) and making friends with the waiter, who also happened to be the 2 time defending world champion in judo fighting, having my ATM card stolen by the machine and having some Spanish businessmen help me retrieve it, and creating my best helado combination yet: caramel and almond... delicioso! However, all of these things were overshadowed by possibly my best adventure yet...

On a what was partially a whim, partially an adreneline craving, partially wanting to have something awesome to brag about on our blogs, some friends and I decided late Friday night to take a whirlwind trip to Madrid to see if we could get tickets to see Roddick and Nadal/U.S. and Spain play in the Davis Cup. So Saturday night we took the midnight bus to Madrid, slept a little but mostly just got yelled at the whole time by the busdriver, and arrived 5 hours later at the Estación Sur de Autobuses en Madrid. Circa 5:30 Sunday morning, we started the long trek through the not-so-safe part of Madrid, all the while running through RAD moves in my head and wondering what we were going to do for 4 hours until everything opens, or at least until 7 when our guidebooks say parks start to get "safe". We wandered around the Parque del Buen Retiro in desperate search of coffee, found out that cafés don't open until about 9, and settled for some steps and the trail mix that we brought. We did some more wandering, found the Plaza del Sol and Plaza de Independencia, which weren't very exciting at 7am, and finally found a café that was open. Re-caffeinated and rejuvinated, we went to the Prado Museum. I loved getting to see just about every piece of art I've ever studied in a Spanish class, and although it was not as well-organized as other museums I've been to in Europe, it had a higher concentration of famous painters and paintings than any other I've been to yet. This was a very good thing, because anything less spectacular would not have held my attention for very long considering the amount of sleep I was running on.

Then, around 11, we took an absolutely seamless Metro ride to the Plaza de Toros, which is where the Copa Davis was to take place. The building was breathtaking.... there was a collective "WOOOOOOW!" when we stepped out of the Metro station and saw the arena. When we went to check out the ticket situation, we were very suprised to find out that there were covered seats still available for much cheaper than we had imagined! The catch was that it was raining pretty hard, and we were told that if the match got rained out, we wouldn't be able to get a refund. So, we decided to go get some lunch and wait it out a little to see if it was going to let up. After lunch, it had let up a little, but was still raining a good bit. We all decided that the bullring was cool enough, especially with the excitement of the Cup, that it would almost be worth the money just to go sit in there for an hour, so we decided to risk it. Inside, we waited on the rain for about an hour and a half, but then the clouds started breaking up and they started rolling back the tarps!! The match was so exciting, even though Roddick's tennis skills were not quite up to par. His tennis abilities, of course, are not the reason why we love him. Nadal is a huge celebrity here in Spain, so the crowd was absolutely wild. There was also a small contingent of about 20 American hooligans decked out in their Red, White, and Blue, who would start chanting "Ü-S-A" every once in a while, only to be drowned out by the boo's of the rest of the stadium... those were the moments when we tried to pretend we were not actually cheering for Roddick as well. Then we stayed and watched a bit of the Lopez-Guerry match before we explored more of Madrid and caught the bus back to Granada. Although we were exhausted and in foul moods when we got off the bus in Granada, we all agreed that the trip was an excellent life decision.

I have 3 days of class this week before I head to Morocco on Friday for 5 days with my program. I could not be more excited... I keep hearing that it's a life-changing trip. You can start waiting with anticipation/constantly refreshing your browser for an amazing post and some unbelievable photos sometime in the middle of next week!!!

The Last Week in a Semi-Larger-Than-Normal Nutshell.

So sorry for the delay in posting... It's been a crazy week! We'll just start with the embarassing moments. After about 7 days of being in Spain, I realized that I had been unknowingly interchanging the words barata, meaning "cheap", and borracha, meaning "drunk". Gladly, I remain utterly unaware of all the specific times I misused the words, but it made for some interesting first impressions, I am sure.

So, after the initial "honeymoon period" ended, culture shock hit me like a load of bricks. I think what made it difficult was not only that no one here knows me, but also that I can't express myself in Spanish the way I do in English, so it's just been hard to feel like myself. The bad news was that I had to check my ego a bit, because I usually think of myself as adventurous and adaptive--a cultural chameleon, if you will. The good news was that once I found out that everyone else was just as overwhelmed, I felt a lot better! And I think I'm over the hump, now!

So many things have happened since Cabo de Gato, but here are some highlights:
-I got the last sea urchin spike out of my foot! It still feels like there's some nerve issues going on, but that's also gotten better with time.
-I've done some great wandering, and found a spice and tea market very close to the IES center, but a little off the beaten path. I took pictures... it was amazing. All of the teas were apparently medicinal, because they had the ailment they cured written on the sign. It's possible that they could also get you high, because I felt pretty funny after inhaling the aromas for a good 15 minutes. I plan to return and buy some tea later.
-I got coffee with a friend of a friend who is a missionary here in Granada, which was fabulous.
-I went to see Mama Mia at an "outdoor" theater, which really ended up being an indoor theater with no roof. It was dubbed in Spanish, except for the songs, which had Spanish subtitles. We were (once again) the annoying group of loud Americans because we laughed throughout the whole movie. We decided that the Spaniards just didn't appreciate the hilarity of Pierce Brosnan singing Broadway tunes to Maryl Streep...
-I ran out of underwear
-I bought three pair of underwear and paid 25 euro. Seriously? Yes.
-and, last but most certainly not least, I heard "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Ramblin' Man" in the same day.

Friday, we left for a weekend trip with my program. We spent Friday afternoon in Ronda, a town about 2 hours from Granada, that was built on a very, very, very tall cliff with a canyon running straight through the town. There is an amazing bridge that connects the original part of the town with the "new" town. We also visited the remnants of the Arab Baths and the Plaza de Toros, the largest and oldest still-running bullfighting ring in Spain. Sadly, I didn't have my camera with me in Ronda, but you should all look some photos up on Google or something, because it was beautiful. Then, that night we went to Sevilla (you may know this city as Seville, as in "The Barber of..."), and had a nice cocktail party on the river. I unknowingly tried fried, pickled shark. Tastes like chicken.

So, I left for Sevilla not really knowing anything about the city, but it is actually quite significant. For over 100 years, it was the only city that had a port to America, so it had a monopoly on all goods going to or from the Americas. It was, in essence, the center of the world for that period of time. The Cathedral, which we visited Saturday, is the third largest in the world, and the largest Gothic Cathedral in the world. I'll spare you (more of) the boring details, but take a look at the pictures... it's a pretty spectacular city. Saturday night they took us to a flamenco show, which was spectacular, and not different from what I expected. It was like a combination between tap dancing, a prayer chant, and STOMP, with a little bit of old-school guitar and very expressive eyebrows thrown into the mix. It was pretty spectacular. And after flamenco came the best part: we went to a Sevilla fútbol game and sat in the front row... right next to the hooligan section!!! I was so excited about it all week, and even though I didn't end up painting my face, it still exceeded my expectations. Overall it was a great weekend... trips with the program are great because a) we get our own personal tour guides (our director, Javier, and some professors always come), b) they've got all the connections, and c) they do things right like get us front row seats, and d) it's all already paid for.

Tomorrow we start classes at last. You can tell that everyone here is from the same type of school, because we are all about to go crazy without work to do. I myself am very ready to get into my own routine, rather than being on the same routine as 80 other Americans. In case you are interested, here are the classes I am taking (this is really so my mother does not have to write it down another time...):
-Spanish grammar (required)
-Lorca and the Andalusian Literary Tradition
-Islamic Civillization in Spain until 1492
-Islamic Art and Architecture in Spain
-The Arab World and the West (in ENGLISH!)

Shoutout to Cabin 16: my host mom just came in to my room to ask me what type of animal my kitty is. I had to explain to her that even though the tail does look like that of a platypus, it is not in fact a platypus, but rather a gato.

Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

¡¡Ya estoy en Granada!! I've been here since Wednesday, and I love it already!! We arrived in Málaga, a larger city about 1 1/2 hours away on Tuesday and had a little bit of cultural orientation Wednesday before we took a bus to Granada Wendesday night and moved into our homestays. The first day or two in Granada were pretty overwhelming. We are supposed to speak Spanish whenever we are in the house or with anyone from our program, which leaves very little opportunity to speak English. It's frustrating not being able to express with ease what I want to say. I can't tell you how many times I've considered going to find some tourists in the street and ask for directions just to make sure I don't forget that there was a time I could understand what people were saying to me. For the first week and a half (until next Monday) we are in intinsive language and culture orientation from 9-2 every day and usually a few hours in the afternoon or at night. I tested into a far too advanced language class (Good test-taking skills: a blessing or a curse? You decide.) which just added to the language frustration. That has gotten better because in addition to the fact that my Spanish has improved, after few hours of me responding to my teacher's questions with a blank stare, she asked me (in front of the class) why I always look at her like I don't know what's going on. I told her it's because I don't know what's going on. Ever. Now she talks to me a little slower. Friday, we spent most of our class time exploring the city, and we walked through this beautiful public park below the Alhambra that had lots of gardens and fountains and rivers and even ducks, swans, and peacocks wandering around. There were also some trails with benches and deciduous trees that I know will be really nice in the fall.

So yesterday, our program took a trip to Cabo de Gato, a national park about 2 hours from Granada. We were prepared for what they described as a "nice, relaxing walk, stopping at beaches every few hours" from the town of Retamar to San José. Only after 9 hours of hiking 16 kilometers, up and down a few very steep mountains and sand dunes, and scaling a rock face or two (all in my Chucks... not a wise decision.) did we finally make it to San José and get to relax in a nice little Italian pizzaria, where the waiters were very drunk, but the food was delicious. It was absolutely beautiful, but I didn't take many pictures because I was too busy trying not to get blown off the mountains by the 50 mph gusts of wind. However, the pictures I did take are up on Picasa... so you can take a look. Did I mention all the beaches were nude? They were. I am pretty sure that they made us do that just so we would bond...

I decided to go to a church that someone recommended to me this morning, and it was possibly the best decision I've made yet. The church was small, and the service was pretty much exactly like the ones in Costa Rica, which was so fun!! I understood some of the sermon, and most of the songs, and was able to speak with the locals fairly easily. There were about 15 other American students there (they were all studying at other schools) and a lot of Granadinos around our age, and I met an American family who are missionaries here and was invited to their house (only about 5 minutes from mine) for lunch next Sunday. I wrote my name on some list, but I'm not quite sure what I signed up for... I'll let you know when I find out.

I've pretty much learned how to get around the city (it's small) and don't even worry, I already have a frequent buyer card from the coffee place on the way to school. I am having a little trouble finding alone time (my roommate and I are in the same orientation group, sowe always go everywhere together.....), so I am looking forward to starting classes and getting into a routine. If you want to see where I live, I put some pictures up of my apartment and neighborhood (called Realejo). There are also some pictures from a long walk we took with my orientation group through the Sacromonte and Albaycin neighborhoods, which are two really really awesome neighborhoods where all the hippies and gyspies live. After that walk, I really fell in love with Granada. It's such a great city... everyone should come visit me so I can show you around and introduce you to my gypsy friends.

In my humble opinion...

... tips for the future traveler!!

Greece:
-if you go to Santorini, rent a scooter or a 4-wheeler.
-Oia Youth Hostel was great, if un-airconditioned.
-watch out for sea urchins.

Rome:
-Old Bridge Gelateria (right near the Vatican) is fabulous and cheap!
-go to the Vatican a little bit before it opens for no line!

Florence:
-www.tuscany-biketours.com – do it.
-don’t stay at Locanda Starlight by yourself.

Venice:
-take the vaparetto down the canal… it’s long, but it’s fun and you get to see everything!
-go to the Guggenheim! And then take a look next door at the Wake House!!

Transportation:
-don’t get a Eurail pass unless you are going to be traveling between countries a lot. I got one for the 3 inter-city trips, and it was definitely more expensive and no easier than just buying individual tickets the day of.
-if you have a choice, take a plane. They’re much more user-friendly.
-if you are in a big city and you’re by yourself, just suck it up and take a taxi to where you’re staying. You can figure out public transportation when you don’t have your luggage.

Venezia!

Venezia

I was told that I would hate Venice… Maybe it was being on the water, maybe it was the Boston Whalers, maybe it was the window boxes overflowing with poppies, maybe it was the company, or maybe it was $33 million home right on the canal that I spent most of my time in, but I loved Venice!! Katie and I arrived by train Saturday afternoon (a fairly eventless trip!), and checked into our hostel. Katie had accidentally booked two rooms, which somehow got us a double room with a private bathroom for the price of a dorm… it was fabulous. However, the next night I was moved to a dorm since I was alone, and I had my first true hostel experience. I definitely slept with my face about 2 inches from the face of a strange woman. It was cool though. Anyway, we took the scenic route (the route for people who don’t know where they’re going) to meet McKinley at Casa Artom. For those of you who don’t know, Wake Forest owns a house in Venice called Casa Artom. It used to be the U.S. Consulate. It’s huge and beautiful and right on the Grand Canal next door to the Guggenheim. McKinley is living there this semester. I'm jealous. We went to dinner in a cute piazza near the house, got some delicious and cheap gelato, and then went back to hang out at the house. The next morning we went to St. Mark’s and the following morning (Sunday) we went to the Guggenheim (possibly my favorite museum so far? The jury is still out…), and other than that we just wandered around, ate a lot of gelato, hung around at the house with the other Wake students living there, cooked our own meals, were lulled to sleep by the waves lapping against the house and the gondola singers passing by, etc. etc. It was truly fabulous.

Sunday I took another train back to Rome (hopefully my last one for a while), and had a very interesting conversation with an older Italian man (he was a professor of pedagogy… never really figured out what that was) and an Italian woman whose husband is an American man in the military… I spent the night in a real hotel that was in an old castle. It was really nice to be shown to my room, have my bed turned down, not have to see anyone else in my room or bathroom, etc.

The next morning I got up early and flew to Málaga to meet my group! Now I’m sitting in my casa with my roommate. It’s been a little freshman orientation-esque, but so far so good. I’ll let you know when there’s more to report!

Just a small town girl...

It's official. I'm a small town girl. I arrived in Florence on Thursday at about 3:30, and after the stress of the huge metropolis that was Rome, Florence was a breath of fresh air. I loved it immediately. But really, I'm obsessed with Florence. I would move there in a heartbeat. Too bad I don't speak Italian... a minor detail.

So, I got to my hostel and met Rollando, the hostel owner. He was a bit sketchy. Especially because I was the only guest, and he lived there, so it was kind of like I was a guest in his house. But I had a key to my own room, so I was good. Then I wandered around Florence a bit... that's what I liked so much about it was that I could wander around and not have to use mass transit to do it. I went to the market, was glad that I didn't have any money or space in my suitcase because I would have bought everything, bought a much-needed pair of sunglasses, pointed someone in the wrong direction for the Accademia (oops...), kept wandering and found the Duomo, gawked and took pictures (yes, I was one of those people. sorry Ellen...), kept wandering, found the Santa Croce, took more pictures, wandered up to Piazelle Michelangiolo and San Miniato del Monte (I couldn't find the monks who are supposed to chant every day at 5:40... I was very sad), gawked at the amazing view, wished I had enough money to eat at one of the amazing restaurants overlooking the city, wandered back down to the river and walked across the Ponte Vecchio, took some more pictures, and then wandered back to the hostel.

At this point (about 7:30), I was getting a little worried because I hadn't gotten in touch with Katie yet, and she was supposed to get out of school at 5:00. When I still hadn't gotten in touch with her at about 9, I started to get really worried, and was trying frantically to call everyone I knew who might know how to find her. I'm not going to lie... I was kind of a mess. It was a strange and scary feeling to be in a foreign city and to have the only person who really even knew I was there be Rollando. BUT thanks to Ellen, I got Katie's mom's number in Raleigh and finally got in touch with her at about 11, and we just made plans to meet up the next day. So, my birthday was not the best of days, but the next day was really the BEST day I've had yet, so it more than made up for it.

So I had made a reservation for this bike tour through Tuscany back in about March, and I have been SO excited about it since then... it was all I had dreamed and SO MUCH MORE! Here is my shameless plug: if anyone is ever anywhere near Florence, you MUST do this bike tour. Seriously. It was amazing. Worth a trip to Italy in it's self. I'm not lying. I did take some pictures, but the sad part is that the whole day I kept wishing you were all there because there will be no way I'll be able to describe it to you! But I will try.

So, we started out and took a van about 15 minutes out to the countryside (it was so fabulous to drive through a neighborhood) and arrived at Castelle di Poppianno, home of the Guiardinni family for the past 900 years. The Count and Countess still live there (they welcomed us) but they now use it to produce wine and olive oil. We went on a tour of the winery and tasted some of the wine and olive oil (SO GOOD) and then went up to the tower and gawked at the view for a while. After that, we walked down the street to get our bikes. The town where the castle is is exactly what I thought Italy would be like... charming little winding streets, beautiful antiquated buildings, window boxes, etc. The ride was mostly downhill (we rode along the ridge surrounding the castle and then down into the valley for lunch) and every turn we made was a new amazingly beautiful scene. Streets lined with tall cedar trees, fields of sunflowers, rolling hills of olive groves, thousand-year-old castles dotting the landscape, etc. etc. etc. It was indescribable. Riding through the Tuscan hills reminded me of mountain biking class in Mentone this summer... there was even some Queen Anne's Lace lining the road! We ate at this fabulous little family-run restaurant that was delicious, then rode back up to the castle. There was a mile-long very steep hill at the end. I feel very confident about my decision to ride the van up the hill with the older women, less-than-skilled cyclers, and urchin-footed. It was absolutely, without a doubt, my favorite experience so far.

Then I met up with Katie and she took me shopping in San Lorenzo market for my birthday! She was way too sweet to me and got me a purse and a beautiful leather journal... which I will somehow find room for in my suitcase. I mean, the day was alright... I guess.

Saturday morning we got up and went to the Ufizzi and Accademia to see lots of old art and the David. It was great. I love art. But I'm a little museumed-out, so I enjoyed it less than probably should have. Then we caught a train to Venice!!

I'll leave you hanging on how Venice is because McKinley is ready to go to dinner, but just a few things I've learned from the past 4 days: I love small towns, the countryside, being around water, boats, and church bells. All for now... I probably won't have internet until I'm in Granada, so more then!

Dear Italian Public Transportion...

. ...you are not on my good side.

Suffice it to say that my first encounter with Public Transportation in a large city was not favorable. Apparently it didn't like me much either. Yesterday I spent 3 hours getting from the airport to Mary Louise's apartment in Rome. It should have taken 30 minutes. It ended with me crying in a train station and then again on a train to this American guy sitting across from me. That was cool... sort of. If you are ever in Rome, make sure you know which side of the city you are flying in to. And maybe knowing some Italian would be nice. And if you are looking for metro tickets, don't go to the ticket stations. Any of them. They're at the newspaper stand, obviously.

Rome. I arrived here yesterday, and it has been eventful, to say the least. My Roman adventures began with a less-than-favorable introduction to big city Public Transportation (noted above). But I decided to give it another chance this morning, and I feel like throughout the day I've greatly improved my public transportaion skills.

They say (they being my guide book) that "a lifetime is not enough".... clearly they don't know my traveling skillz. I went to just about every tourist attraction there is to see here today. I am exhausted. My feet hurt. But I did it... and it was absolutely amazing! I started off the day bright and early and headed for the Vatican Museums. I left for the train station at about 7:30, asked for help (key), and I think I may have gotten to the Vatican in the most direct way possible... amazing! I was on top of my game and got in line 15 minutes before it opened and was inside just 20 minutes later... definitely the best time to go, in case you were wondering. I went through all the rooms (I don't know what that section is called...) which lead to the Sistine Chapel, and then walked over to the Pinacoteca (painting gallery). It was all absolutely phenomenal. I do really like art, but I think anyone who has been there will agree that all of the art work is just so amazing, down to the last intricate details. I'm really glad Ellen told me to go into the Pinacoteca. I was the only person in the room with Raphael's Transfiguration... it was incredible! Sorry if the pictures all look the same to you... I tried to be selective.

So then, about 9:30 or so, I walked back to St. Peter's square (stopped on the way at Old Bridge Gelateria - another of Ellen's suggestions - and got coffee and nutella gelato). I got in line for what I thought was the Papal Audience, but what ended up just being to get into the church. But don't worry... I watched the pope speak on the big screen outside. I went into the church, wandered around with the hundreds of other people, gawked at people as they went into confession because that's what you do when you're a tourist in a church, went to the papal tombs, gawked at people as they prayed the rosary in front of tombs because that's what you do when you're a tourist in the papal tombs, etc. That, plus wandering around the square for a bit, lasted me about an hour or so, and then I was on my way once again.

After a few tries and with the help of the Americans trying to get me to buy a guided tour of the Vatican, I found the Metro station and went to meet Mary Louise and Kristin (her roommate) at the Spanish Steps for lunch. Well, they had similar problems with our friend public transportation as I did yesterday, so I was there for about 2 hours before they got there. It sounds not very fun, but actually it was really nice. I read for a while, took some pictures, people watched, took pictures for other people, and rested my eyes for a bit. I didn't see anywhere to eat around there, so when they got there we walked to Trevi Fountain, picked up a slice of pizza, and enjoyed it among the throngs of tourists doing the exact same thing.

For our next stop, we decided we had maybe been smothering Public Transportion and should give it a little space to cool off a bit. So we walked to Ancient Rome/the Colosseum. I was tired and questioning whether I wanted to go, but I'm so glad I did. We decided to spare the money and time and not actually go in the Colosseum, but we walked around and took pictures, looked in from the gates, and listened in on a few tours. It is always crazy to think about the things that went on in such old places like Ancient Rome and the Acropolis and who has walked the same steps you are.

From the Colosseum, we sucessfully took a metro to Termini, a train to Trastevere, then a bus to the grocery store and back to the apartment. It's been a rocky relationship, but I think I can say "hey, Public Transportation, you're alright after all."

Btw's... there are pictures up on Picasa from Rome, but I couldn't get them on the slideshow, so just click the link on the "keep in touch" section.

The bright side of disaster: Santorini, Greece

So sorry for not posting yet... I just now got wireless for the first time!

Well, Greece is absolutely amazing. The pictures don’t even come close to doing it justice! McKinley’s mom sent her with a book by the same title as this post… it ended up describing our first day and a half in Greece just about perfectly. Traveling over there was better than expected. Especially until we got to the Santorini airport on Wednesday, Aug 20 and found out that our bags were still in Athens and my claim ticket was in the hands of the woman who took my boarding pass in the Philly airport (minor disaster #1). So we spent the morning of the first day in Santorini (Thursday) riding the bus in the clothes we had lived in for about 48 hours back and forth to the airport, but FINALLY GOT OUR LUGGAGE!! On the bright side of disaster, we got to become best friends with the man who drives the bus from Oia to Fira before the first day was even over!

After getting back to the hostel, putting on clean clothes, and putting on deodorant for the first time in 2 days, we decided to go down to the port below Oia, the village we were staying in, and go swimming because we knew there were rocks to jump off of (from Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, obviously). And now the adventure really begins… so, we spent a considerable amount of time picking out the perfect spot to spend our afternoon, away from topless women, and where we had a beautiful view of the harbor and were close to this awesome island we could swim to. And let me tell you, this spot was PERFECT. So, we dropped off our stuff and jumped in, and as I jumped in, I felt my foot scrape against a rock… it kind of hurt, but I thought I just scraped it. Then it started to really hurt, so I looked at it, and guess what? There were about 50 little black spikes sticking out of my foot. Why? Oh, because I stepped on a sea urchin. Yes, a sea urchin. In fact, Meredith and I both had stepped on sea urchins as we jumped into the crystal clear Aegean Sea (only later did we learn that Ellen had also had a very similar experience at a completely separate harbor… apparently this is common? Or are we just prone to disaster…). It seems that the growth covering the rocks was not moss but in fact those devilish little animals. But were there any signs posted or warnings in a single one of the twelve thousand travel books we read about these dear little creatures? Of course not. That would be far too logical. And if you have ever stepped on a sea urchin, you will know that the pain is quite intense, and only grows with time. But don’t worry… only a little over half of sea urchins are venomous.

But hey, on the bright side of disaster, as I treaded water with one foot and McKinley picked spikes out of the other, some nice Greek boys with a boat came up and rescued us, and we made it back to our hostel where the owner proceeded to attempt to suck a few spikes out with a contraption called “The Extractor”, which filled with blood but extracted no spikes. He then told us that the others would just have to stay in there, and that in a few days we would harden to the pain. We did not think that was satisfactory, seeing as our feet were still throbbing with intense pain and walking was quite a challenge. So, we spent the rest of the afternoon soaking our feet in olive oil (apparently that loosens them? I am not convinced.), and we let the three healthy group members pick the spikes out of our feet. And that was day 1.

The rest of the trip was not quite as eventful, but equally as fabulous. On Friday we ended up moving from our youth hostel in Oia to a villa that Ellen found for us just outside the main town of Fira. The hostel was really quaint and in a fabulous location, and the owner was great seeing as he spent 30 minutes picking sea urchin spikes out of my foot, but there was no air conditioning and it was kind of smelly. That afternoon we basically sat around the pool tending to our urchin feet (I went and explored Fira for a while), and then Ellen insisted upon making us delicious pasta for dinner that night… clearly she had to force it down our throats.

Saturday, we decided to go tour a winery… sadly we missed the last tour in English. But we did get an adventure out of it, because we hitch-hiked back to the bus station… and by “we” I mean all 6 of us. Did I mention that there were 7 people in that smart car? It was quite a feat. That afternoon we all split up and explored Fira a bit more. Ellen and I decided we wanted to fit in with the cruise ship crowds, so we took a cable car down to the port in Fira, walked around a bit, then took a donkey back up. After the donkey man offered Ellen his hand in marriage, he put us on some donkeys and sent us on our way. It was pretty fun... but we definitely smelled like donkey the rest of the day.

Sunday we went to the black sand beach at the south end of the island. We were interested/nervous to see what the hot sand would do to our urchin feet, but surprisingly it worked a few of the spikes out! Way to go, volcanic sand!

This morning (Monday) we caught an early flight to Athens, where we will be for the night. We did the Acropolis thing this afternoon, and that’s pretty much all there is to Athens. But we are in a great little part of town (with a STARBUCKS!!) so we've just been walking around/enjoying the internet the rest of the day.

Other than the fact that I may have begun to pick up the Euro-smell (cigarette smoke, un-deodorized bodies, and dirty streets), from what I can tell, I really like Europe. But it perplexes me to think that they have missed the boat on a few things. If someone could tell me how Crocs made it here, but not deodorant or Ziploc bags, I would be grateful. On the bright side, they DO have Special K with Red Berries, and Ellen has informed me that in Italy the clothing brand of choice for those inclined toward the “punk” style is none other than… Carhartts. Italy here I come!!

P.S. I put pictures up, so if you click the link at the side, you can see them. I think it's easier to view them, and they load faster, if you click "view slideshow". Enjoy!