Friday, November 12, 2010

Quiet weekend #2

I had no travel plans the weekend of the 21-24 after midterms ended because our programmers had already planned a Toledo day trip on Friday. The Saturday after, my host mom and dad invited my housemates and I to go to their farm house. Yeah, sure. I will go to your Spanish farmhouse. Note: I realize how incredibly lucky I am to have been put with this family for 10 months. 

On Thursday night, Natalie, my roomates and I went to see "The Social Network." I know you are curious, so I have to admit, I did see it in English with Spanish subtitles, not dubbed in Spanish. I am slightly ashamed but I don´t know if I could have soaked up the PURE AWESOMENESS of this movie if I had not seen it in my native language. You have to see it.

The next morning the students in my program and I headed to Toledo, Spain to spend the day. You may know by now how much I enjoy bullet-points, so I will go through some of the more important events of the day:
  • Taking pictures in front of the well known view of Toledo, made famous by Greco and his "Vista de Toledo" 
  • Visiting the famous Cathedral of Saint Mary and having an unnecessarily long tour (we could not take any pictures inside... not quite sure why I obeyed this rule)
  • Seeing the original "El Entierro del Conde de Orgaz" painted by El Greco in the Church of Santo de Tome (Is is bad that I could only think of Marisa Tomei when we went? GO BU ALUMS!)
  • Visiting the Jewish Quarter of Toledo (why does every city have a Jewish Quarter? Love it)
  • Visiting the Synagogue of Santa Maria la Blanca- very austere- very Jewish 
  • Walking and shopping in the confusing, narrow, windy streets of Toledo
    • One of the guys in my program bought a sword. I was so pleased. 
  • Euro cones at MacDonalds. Sorry.
Greco´s View of Toledo. Your point of reference for the next photo.

Stripes!
Natalie, Ray Green, and I. Ray Green is the head of the Madrid program
and also serves as the most amazing man in the world.


Sancho Panza's as the "pawns" in this Don Quijote chess set.
The literary cuteness is killing me



Matt and his sword. Yes. his SWORD.
We stumbled upon a wedding too...
After returning to Madrid, Natalie and I enjoyed some Indian Food on La Calle Lavapíes, recommended by one of our programmers. Since we went at about 8:30PM we were LITERALLY the only people there. Embarassing. When I ordered the lamb tikka masala, the waiter said it was "muy picante," (very spicy) but I figured he meant spicy in Spanish standards (Spaniards are NOT mexican; they do not eat spicy foods and it is very upsetting) so I told him VENGA. It turns out he meant spicy in Indian standards. You know the feeling when you touch something really hot and you do not realize it until one or two entire seconds after because it is so mind-blowingly hot? That is what that dish was like. I ate the entire thing however, sweating, reddening, and possibly with smoke coming out my ears and the top of my head. Natalie comfortably ate her butter chicken next to me. The major difference between Indian food in America and in Spain? You have to pay for white rice and it does NOT come in unlimited amounts. We were not pleased with this facet.

The next day my host Mamá, Papá, three housemates and I prepared to go to the Campo (farm/field). We were excited to see what type of car they had that would fit all six of us. The four Americanas laughed hysterically when our host-dad came out of the underground garage with one of the longest cars we had ever seen. It was sedan size, but as long as a van, with two back seats, both facing forward. He ordered the two smallest ones, Kirstyn and I, to go the back seat. To summarize the hour drive, I will just show you two pictures.

The situation: The ceiling was too low to sit up, but the seat back only went up
to the middle of our backs. Hello neck-ache.

The car ride was a little awkward, of course. Since we all cannot fully communicate, our host-dad did a lot talking and playing tour-guide. We stopped in a town called Buitrago (del lozoya). There is no reason you should have ever heard of it, don't worry. It's a really charming place 75 km outside of Madrid. We stopped at the Picasso museum there (naturally, there is a Picasso museum in every friggen city in Europe). It had a small collection of his paintings, etchings, sketches, and doodles. Then, our host-mother took us to the Mendoza fortress, built between the 14th and 15th century, a tiny, old bullfighting ring, and to La Iglesia de Santá María del Castillo (Church built in the 15th century). The town itself is surrounded by a wall and a river; it had a very medieval feel.

Picasso engraved art

La Iglesia 
We continued North and our señora pointed out where her family´s land ownership began. We figured that we would see their house soon after, but it was not for another ten minutes that we arrived to their incredibly quaint Andalusian style home. Needless to say, they own A LOT of land.




Never expected to see this view in Spain
DELICIOUS. Picture stolen from my housemate, Kirstyn.
Adorable host-dad
It is scary how accurately this depicts my relationship with my host parents...

USD girls and I at our host family´s home on the farm. AKA family photo.
The only live thing left at the campo. I cannot wait to go back in May!
The five of us had a delicious lunch and custard cake together, talking about about the differences between the Spanish lifestyle and the American lifestyle and life in general. "La cosa más importante en la vida es con quién se casa," our host dad said. the most important thing in life is with whom you get married. So scary and so true. Dad #2 is already imposing his wisdom.   

After dessert, we took a walk around their land, hung out with their horse, saw some deer, and took a nap. We headed back to Madrid when it started to get dark, and I began my 12 hour hibernation/night's sleep. 

The next day, I got to see my friend Jenn who I worked with this summer! We went to the Reina Sofia museum (home of "Guernica" by Picasso) and I found out my friend Justin from high school was staying at the same hostel (I had already planned on hanging out with him, but I did not know where he was staying)! I was SO excited that I did not have to somehow divide my time between them and meet in different places. I met up with both of them that night and we went to La Chocolatería de San Gines (the most famous place for Churros con Chocolate in Madrid) then to see El Templo de Debod at night (an ancient Egyptian temple given to Franco from the Egyptian government for helping save the temples of Abu Simbel) and walk around in the freezing cold.


Jenn and I!
Teehee Justin and I, awkward and frozen in front of Palacio Real.

I was happy to stay in Madrid for a weekend. Not only did I save money (YAY!), I got to see friends from high school and college, got to know my host family and housemates from USD better, and explore areas of Madrid to which I have never been. That whole weekend though, I had my upcoming trip to Paris in the back of my mind...

Monday, November 8, 2010

Los primeros fines de semana tranquilos: Parte 1

Midterms came. Midterms sucked. Midterms were conquered. I spent the third weekend of October studying, and only studying, for my four midterms. I have not talked about classes at all (I DO go attend them and they ARE challenging), so here is a little rundown. Note that all of these classes include no English, except Translation, which obviously requires a little of both Spanish and English. 

(Monday/Wednesday 4:00PM) La Novela Española Contemporánea- My contemporary Spanish novel class is ridiculous. My teacher is one of the most insane people I have ever met. None of us know what to make of this guy. I will give him credit; he makes for a very lively class. The class is composed of about 20 students that sit confused, awed, disgusted, and intrigued at the things our professor says and does. We take turns each class, two at a time, explaining certain chapters and have a midterm and a final, one about each book we read. This may sound organized, but let me assure you; every day of this class is more or less a farce to us.

(Monday/Wednesday 6:30PM) Traducción a través deñ cine y del teatro- Translation through film and theatre might be my favorite class I have ever had. My teacher is so laid back, but the class is still challenging. There is a lot of memorizing, of course, as we have to translate pieces of movie scripts on our tests, and I have already found myself learning and remembering so much from phrases of certain scripts we have translated (Flirt, Annie Hall, American Beauty, Antz). My favorite part though, is how much we argue in class about how certain words and phrases should be translated; people argue when they care about the subject matter, so it's pretty clear most people enjoy the class as much as I do.

(Tuesday/Thursday 10:30AM) Política Española Contemporánea- Contemporary Spanish Politics is hard. In English. In Spanish it is near impossible. This 10 person class is sort of beyond explanation. At the beginning of class, our professor asks if we have questions about current events (so we always have some ready) and we spend about 45 minutes listening to him answer. During the other 35 minutes, he lectures. We started at the beginning of the Franco regime and are jumping back and forth from present time to decades back. I haven't gotten my first midterm back, so I still have no idea how "difficult" this class is. One thing I do know for sure, though, is that I have a headache at the end of every class.

(Tuesday/Thursday 1:30PM) Cervantes y Don Quijote- I have had some very excited teachers, but I do not think any have been as excited about the subjects as my Cervantes and Don Quixote professor. During this class, about 15 of us listen to our teacher yell, jump, pound his fists on his desk and get generally very excited about Don Quijote. The class is EXTREMELY difficult as the book is written in old Spanish. Our version of the book is heavily annotated, which is necessary, but it makes for even longer reading time because we have to look at the margins after every other line.

Physically, the school is precious and a two minute walk from home-stay which I am incredibly grateful for.
Outside! From picture found online       


THUS, although I am having the time of my life in Madrid and throughout Europe, I still have class and studying to do. Also, all my grades transfer, they are not pass/fail like some abroad programs. which is extremely unfortunate.   

Part 2 coming to you soon.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.  ~Aldous Huxley

Monday, November 1, 2010

Obrigado, (obrigada?) Portugal


Portugal was never really in my plans. I had a plan. I wrote down all the cities of all the countries I wanted to see while I was in Europe and Portugal made it to the “probably not” list. However, when (my perpetual travel partner) Natalie and I were looking at flights, we quickly realized Portugal was the best option. So, off we went to Portugal. I won´t bore you with all the details of events that lead up to Portugal, though there were a lot. 

I will just jump to the metro ride to the airport, so I can fully embarrass myself. A few stops before the airport, I realized I had forgot something that one REALLY should not forget when they are traveling from one country to the next. Yes, that's right. The passport. The doors opened for the next stop, I panicked, jumped out, and told Natalie I would meet her at the airport. I ran out of the metro stop to a desolate looking street and luckily found a cab. It got me back to my apartment in the same amount of time the metro took. Fail. I took a cab partially back, switched to the metro, got to the airport and literally RAN like one of THOSE people to the Ryanair counter. We made it. 

An hour later, we were in the air. Natalie and I quickly realized that my unplanned exercise was not going to end for the night, as we would have to run to the bus we were to take from Porto to Lisbon. We were especially sure of this because we had absolutely no idea from where the bus departed in Porto even after researching online for about an hour. We ran outside the airport as soon as we could get off the plane, jumped in a cab, showed the driver our tickets, and off we went. We had NO idea if he knew where he was going. We certainly did not. To add to the ambience, it was pouring rain. The cab stopped in a seemingly random side street in front of what I can only describe as a giant hole in the wall. He pointed to the hole and we got out, having no other option. We walked into an opening that had two buses and some VERY sketchy looking characters. Luckily, we saw two men wearing the same outfit and realized that, shockingly, this bus company had employees. We timidly walked up to them and asked “English? Español?” They did not speak either. We showed them our ticket, shrugged our shoulders, pouted and hoped they knew this meant “are we in the right place?” Well, I had not idea what they did and did not understand because they answered with a slew of portugeuse phrases I had never heard and certainly could not decipher. If you have heard that Spanish and Portugeuse are similar, IT IS… A  MYTH. They sound nothing alike. Yet, these men continued speaking portugeuse to us. They took us to the ticket counter and we found out that are tickets were “wrong” in some way, so they gave us correct tickets and we were able to get on the dirct bus instead of original one, saving us an hour on the trip. Win. We finally got to Lisbon at 11 pm and passed out.

Yes, these are what the hills are like there.

Can you tell it's pouring?
The next day, we met up with our friends Jack and Gaby that we found out were going to Portugal the same weekend. Natalie went off with them as I went to meet with three of other friends with whom we were renting a car. Yes, we rented a car. I don't want to hear any of your comments. After an hour of signing a series of documents, we drove out of the parking garage. I was the one and only driver of the car because no one else could drive a manual car (thanks for giving me a manual 1999 ford escort station wagon in high school, Dad). So bittersweet. I love driving. However, driving in Lisbon is not driving, it is suicide. If you think hills in San Francisco are difficult, you have never seen a steep hill. And not only that, half the roads are about 4 feet wide, with sharp turns and barely any sidewalks, yet with people walking on them. Needless to say, driving that weekend was not the relaxing experience I had anticipated. The four of us picked up Natalie after driving around for 45 minutes and headed to Belém.

We got to Jerónimos Monastery and the tower of Belém a half hour later. We might have seen the tower of Belém, but we are not sure. We definitely saw Jerónimos Monastery, though. I know because it cost 12 EUROS to get in (keep in mind 1 euro equals $1.40). It hurt. The monument was built in 1502 and is considered the most famous in Lisbon. It might have been more beautiful if it were not pouring rain, but it was still pretty impressive. After the monastery, we went next door to the famous Patéis de Belém for “pasteles de nata,” the most famous in Lisbon. They were delicious, and this place was PACKED. I would guess there were about 200 people inside.
Courtyard of the Monastery
Rain.




Lots and lots of Pasteles de Nata. Delicious. 


That night, we went to a cocktail bar called “Cinco.” It was a veritable adventure in the taxi because our driver didn´t know where this place was (or he pretended really well). Spotting it was like being the one to find the Afikomen (yeah I just made a Passover reference). Cocktails were ridiculously overpriced, starting at 8 Euros and going up to about 30 Euros for the crazy ones. The seven of us had a great time talking and drinking our “gourmet” cocktails feeling like real adults. Somewhere during the course of the night, Natalie knocked over my entire cocktail, but bought me another one. We were upset, but not surprised, when they charged us for both of them. Typical Europe.


A few hours later, Natalie and I picked up the car and prepared for the drive to our hostel. We had printed out directions so were all set. Well, we WOULD have been all set had there not been construction. What should have taken 20 minutes, took us an hour and a half. Thank god we were alone because we bickered WORSE than a married couple. I yelled at her for being terrible with directions, and she yelled at me for yelling at her. All was well in the end, however; we reached our beds and went to sleep, our friendship still in tact.

The next day we went to Sintra, the town outside of Lisbon where the famous Portugeuse Castle, also very informally known as the “Bachelorette” castle. The real name is “Palacio Pena,” and before we went, the only thing Natalie and I knew about it was that Ali polish-last-name from the Bachelorette had a lovely date there. We learned it is was built in 1839 during the rule King Consort Dom Fernando II of Saxe Coburg-Gotha and it is the best example of Portuguese architecture in the Romanic period. The most memorable part was the ride there. We decided to park in Sintra because we heard the rive up the mountain was pretty crazy. Wrong. The ride up was absolutely TERRIFYING. The road was about as wide as the bus we were on and wound side to side, with the bus making U-turns about every 40 meters. There was only one lane, so the driver would have to honk repeatedly at turns so that cars going the other way would not hit the bus head-on. We were very happy that we decided NOT to drive up to the castle.

Palacio de Pena. Since I don't have a helicopter, I can't take credit for this picture.
Jump-fail picture in front of the Palace.


When we got back down to pseudo-normal land, we got lunch (if you call a Magnum ice-cream bar lunch… this is how cheap I am), got back in the car, and drove the 3 and a half hours to Lagos. The toll to get there was $18.50, which we were not too pleased about, and filling up the gas was 50 Euros. Basically, all the money I saved getting a 30 Euro round trip ticket to Porto was leaving me by the day. We finally found free parking and checked into the “Lagos Youth Hostel.” We napped, showered, got ready, then went to get dinner at a local steakhouse that was delicious and more importantly, cheap. We headed to “Three Monkeys” per Leo's friends recommendations and the bartenders there were hysterical. There were 3 or 4 (sometimes I couldn’t tell who worked there and who just jumped behind the bar to join the fun) bartenders from Australiala, all cute and friendly. When they weren´t taking shots or icing each other (people of different generations click here to see what icing is), they served up 2-for-1 drinks that cost only 3 euros. Perfect. We stayed here for a while, then met up with 5 other guys from our program that were staying at “Rising Cock Hostel” (Ya know, based on a male chicken waking up) around the corner. We went to Joe´s garage, a club disguised as a bar with cheap beers and cheaper shots. They were playing top 40 and the place was full of students. We even ran into a bunch of people in our program from Syracuse there. Americans truly do take over every venue all over the world. Getting back to our room was a bit of a challenge that night, but we eventually succeeded and went to bed (after Natalie got trapped in the shower for ten minutes).

The hostel had a pretty awesome free breakfast, so we made the painful decision to wake up before 10 am to get some food. Since we were in a beach town, we headed to the water and signed up to take a boat tour of the famous caves for 10 euro each. The beach was a joke. It was about 60 degrees out, we all had coats and umbrellas, and the only people in the water with surfers with wet suits. Cue the rain. We went to the closest restaurant to seek refuge before our boat tour. 

Deceiving. 
What they gave me at the restaurant when I asked for tap water. Europe hates giving tap water, clearly.
Leo ordered onion rings and french fries. Dead give-away that we are American?

Luckily, the rain stopped and we headed to the boat, Mananita. It was no surprise there were only students on the boat since it was the cheapest option. Everything was going well on the ride until it started misting... then raining... then pouring. The temperature drop made a nice accompaniment to the scene as the 30 of us huddled under the canopy for warmth. For some reason, the drivers decided this did not warrant shortening the trip and we went on like this for about an hour. 

Cutest tour guide ever.
Lagos
When we were happy on the boat. Fleeting moment.
We returned to shore soaked and waddled back to our hostel to shower and nap. Leo, Natalie and I decided to go on a search for an open supermarket (not as easy as it sounds on a Sunday), and bought some pasta, sauce, cheese, meat and very cheap wine to cook for dinner. While we were cooking, five German men in their upper 20's joined in the kitchen to cook their cheap pasta dinner. Natalie and I showed off our german by singing the Oktoberfest songs we learned a few weeks earlier. When we found out one of them was a chocolatier (yes, like as a career), I made him help us cook, which was only fair as he used about a quarter of my wine for the pasta sauce he was making. We met four Spaniards as well, all over 30 and multicultural dinner was exactly the type of experience you hope for when staying in a hostel. Natalie and I are wondering why there has been a theme of not meeting people our own age on these trips, but we are getting over it as the time passes. 

After that, we got ready and headed to Joe's Garage again, which was playing some very weird music. They were also serving 1 euro shots, though. Naturally, we decided to stay. Hilights of the night included an Australian to buy me things, as he told me I looked like Elaine from Seinfeld ("but in a good way!"), a guy in a neon green body suit, and a young man with a white collared shirt, one button done, dancing like a LUNATIC on a platform, almost kicking someone in the head every 30 seconds. We bar hopped a bit after that, but Natalie and I decided to go back early since we had to wake up at 6:30 AM the next day to drive to Lisbon and return the car.

Driving to Lisbon was a challenge, as expected. As everyone slept, I LITERALLY slapped myself in the face repeatedly to stay awake (I mean literally, not how people colloquially use the word). The low fog did not help at all, as it made everything seem dreamy- the weather was mocking me, making it so obvious how much I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. Before going into Lisbon, we had a slight hiccup at the tolls. We accidentally drove into the Portugal version of an easy pass line, and with obviously no option to turn back, pulled over into a tiny highway-island-type thing. Andrea and Natalie run back to the toll people to tell them what happened and begged them to fine us. We gave them the license number and continued toward the airport to drop off the car. When we arrived, Natalie and I ran to the air-shuttle to get to the bus station to return to Porto. All that travel was exactly as much fun as it sounds. 

Unfortunately, the friend we were staying with in Porto had work and could not get home until about 8 that night so Natalie and I had to carry our bags everywhere. We made it to two wineries, the Taylor winery, that had two free sample and a free tour, which was amazing, except that our tour was entirely in French and we couldn't understand anything.  We then met up with our friends Jack and Gaby again to go to Sandeman winery, the most famous in Porto, since they were the first to use advertising in a mainstream way. The tour was very touristy, but enjoyable nonetheless, especially when we got two samples at the end.

The Taylor Port winery tasting room

So pleased to have free port

Natalie was also pleased.




After the port, the four of us went to dinner. Natalie and I split fish and Francesinha, which is supposedly the most popular dish in Porto (a sandwich with five types of meet inside, cheese on the outside, then covered with a spicy tomato soup). It looks disgusting, but it tasted like fatty American food, so it was pretty delicious. 

I wasn't kidding when I said it looks disgusting.
After that we went to the "Imperial MacDonald's" which, according to Rick Steve's, is the nicest in the world. I would have to agree. You can decide for yourself.



We finally met up with my friend Romain, dropped our stuff off in his apartment, met up with Gaby and Jack and headed to the river with about 5 others. Romain is originally from France and in Porto for a year studying engineering. All of his friends were French and spoke perfect English. Yet again, I feel like crap for being BARELY bilingual. It turns out that on this Monday, Porto was "practicing" for an attempt to put on the the biggest fireworks display ever in Portugal on the following Monday. As we were walking to the river, we saw the first firework go off. The display was put with music and the backdrop of Porto provided the most amazing fireworks display I have ever seen. After the first round of fireworks, Romain took us to a place to get cheap drinks, 2-for-1, at 5 euros each. We took our drinks out to sit on the river and watch more fireworks, talk, learn french, and be generally ridiculous, of course. 


The experience in Porto, though brief, tops the list of abroad experiences so far. The night was such a perfect mix of excitement, language, cultures and surprises. We headed back to Romain's at around 2 am and had to wake up at 4:30 am to catch our flight back to Madrid. My only Problem with Porto was that we couldn't stay longer.

Porto is pretty, I guess. 
Clearly, although Portugal was not on 'my list' I could not be happier I went. Portugal, YOU, sir (Ma'am?) are now on my 'to-return-to' list.