Farewell Europe

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

It seems like yesterday that I arrived in Barcelona, unsure of what a euro even looked like and with the one sole worry of how to get from the Barcelona airport to our hotel for the night. As I sit here writing this post in the Barcelona airport at 1:42 in the morning on hour 8 of our 30 hour journey back to the U.S., I’m happy to go home and see my friends, family, and Lucky (of course), but I also am really sad to leave the city that’s become my home during the last 4 months and the people I grew accustomed to spending hours with hanging out in the dorm’s dens singing “Call Me Maybe”. While I won’t miss anchovies, ham, Spain’s general lack of efficiency, communication barriers, and the constant fear of being pickpocketed, these past 12 days of traveling through Amsterdam, Prague, Venice, Florence, and  Milan have made me realize the attachment that I already feel to Spain, specifically Barcelona. It’s going to be weird to get used to leaving bars at 2 rather than 6, eating dinner at 6 rather than 10, actually having to study again, and not using Facebook messenger to make all my plans. As much as I hate to leave my life here though, I still find it unbelievable that I ever had this opportunity at all, and I know with certainty that someday, somehow, I will come back here. So I refuse to say goodbye, but rather, until next time, Barcelona.

Ciao.

Ashley

Spring Break

After exploring MANY possible options for Spring Break, we finally decided a trip to the Gran Canaria (in the Spanish Canary Islands) and Malaga would be a perfect way to spend a week exploring more of  Spain and relaxing away from all the cathedrals, day trips, city tours, and “must see” tourist activities. Since there were 13 of us, we rented an apartment rather than give our life’s savings to one of the expensive resorts and by Thursday night we were on an ever pleasant Ryanair flight to Gran Canaria. (For anyone that’s ever flown Ryanair, you know that pleasant is the last thing Ryanair is) At 3 hours, it was my longest flight since I’ve been abroad. After landing, we attempted to take a bus to the bus station that was supposedly right next to our apartment, but we couldn’t figure out the routes and the bus driver was rude/unhelpful resulting in us taking the wrong route (which at least still got us closer to the apartment) and then we just took a taxi and handed him our address.

The first thing we did after getting the keys for the apartment was childproof the entire place. With 13 of us in an 8 bedroom apartment for 5 days and a hefty security deposit, we didn’t want to risk anything.

Our apartment was a convenient 10 minute walk from the beach and ended up being hundreds of euro per person cheaper than renting a hotel or hostel on the island. Gran Canaria is off the west coast of Africa and was very different than any other island I’d ever been too. Actually, I’ve never been to an island so I guess it’s different from what I imagine other islands are like. For one, there’s no wifi…anywhere. I resorted to sending all necessary emails through a computer at the arcade down the road where you could buy 15 minutes of internet for a euro. There also were telephone booths in every convenience store and a ton of people using them.

We spent most of our days laying out on the beach and most of our nights playing cards and hanging out. Lots and lots of cards. There were two aspects of the beach that were of particular interest.

1.) It was a typical topless European beach. Just to paint a picture in your mind (I'll spare you the pictures), that means 80 year old saggy ladies on your left and fat guys in speedos (thong speedos if you were lucky) on your right. I will say that while it was a bit disturbing at first, it was so refreshing to be in a culture that wasn’t body conscious at all.

2.) We somehow managed to arrive on the one day a year when thousands of jellyfish invade the beach. So for the first 3 days the water and sand by the water were completely covered in jellyfish. Workers were literally raking dead jellyfish off the beach with rakes. Ew.

sew many jellies

The last day we were in the Canary Islands, we took a bus down to Puerto Rico (town not country) on the south side of the island to spend a day on a catamaran called the Afrikat. We got lunch, and all the beer and sangria we wanted, and they also took us in a little boat to a nearby sea cave and let us use their snorkeling equipment to snorkel in a bay in the Atlantic. We unanimously decided it was our favorite day trip yet.

Afrikat catamaran crew

That night we tried to finish our trip to Gran Canaria with a bang by going to what I can only assume is the only club in Gran Canaria. It sounded like a good idea until we walked in and were instantly swarmed by short boys with braces struggling to drink their beers. Yeahhhhh we were at an underage club. We stayed long enough to get our free drinks and then went back to the apartment.

discoteca pic

Besides nearly achieving cradle robber status, I’d say Gran Canaria was a success.

The next leg of the trip took us to Malaga in the south of Spain. After encountering a scenario strangely familiar to the opening scene of Taken, we speed walked from the bus station, jumped a fence with our luggage, and hailed a taxi that only laughed at us and said “hay muchas problemas” when we told him the address of where we needed to go. Turns out, the south of Spain, and Malaga in particular goes CRAZY for Easter week, or Semana Santa as they call it. There was a massive parade with streets blocked and people everywhere and our hostel was conveniently in the middle of it all. Our taxi driver took us as close as he could, still at least 8 blocks away,  pointed us in the general direction, and wished us well. While Morgan and I tried pushing our way through the massive sea of people, we came across another group of girls and a guy sitting hopelessly on their luggage on the curb. They were from Chile and also had a hostel located in the middle of the massive crowd of people. They helped us ask for directions to our hostel and before we knew it, we were following a 60 year old man and his wife through the crowds to our hostel as people cheered us on and waved us through. After a massive blur or Spanish people, floats of religious figures, and narrow alley streets we finally got to our hostel. Welcome to Malaga!

Semana Santa parade

 In total, our group of 8 girls was in different hostels, one of which also housed a British bachelor party. Turns out, Malaga is an oddly popular destination for UK Bachelor parties. We ended up spending pretty much all of our day and evening with the bachelor party. We ran into a Scottish bachelor party at an English pub that same night and then a massive Parisian bachelor party at our hostel the next morning. So. Many. Bachelor. Parties. It was definitely not what I expected from Malaga but was so much fun. 

Part of the English bachelor party

Aggressive Parisian bachelor party arrives...this is how we met

massive Parisian bachelor party

Our last day in Malaga, we went on a day trip to explore the nearby Andalusian white villages and ocean of Frigiliana and Nerja. They were gorgeous and reminded me of what I always thought of when I used to think of Spain.

Frigiliana

Nerja

Spring Break 2012 = great success.

Strike

Even though I'm back in the States now, I wrote a lot of posts in Microsoft Word that I completely forgot to publish and just now found. So here they are.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Today the slow moving, ever predictable city of Barcelona went crazy. Both our program and the media have been warning us about a strike for a few weeks now, but I never thought it'd be this big. According to most, the strike is a general strike "against austerity measures proposed by the Spanish government". Basically, it's a strike by all Barcelona/surrounding communities in Spain. That means practically no metro service, minimal public transportation, hundreds of canceled flights both in and out of Barcelona's airport, virtually no open businesses (they're all boarded up) and a longg walk to class. On my walk to class, I passed policemen everywhere poised and waiting for the craziness that was sure to ensue and dozens of news helicopters flying overhead. 

The most interesting thing I found out about Spanish strikes, though, is that they announce the strike beforehand (so everyone can prepare), and then they just strike for one day no matter the outcome. In America, I've never seen a general strike. I'm more used to groups of workers going on strike until they get what they want or until they convince "the man" to negotiate with them. Spanish people just raise hell for one day and then go about their business the next morning like nothing ever happened. It's counter-productive if you ask me. 

Raise hell they did, though. They caught our favorite Starbucks on fire and started every dumpster in town on fire while starting more fires in the streets and throwing bricks through random store windows. Besides the National Board of Trade, the buildings targeted weren't even government buildings. I don't qualify myself as one to give advice about how to strike properly, but it seems to me if I was protesting the government, I would aim my attacks at the government...not at Starbucks, and I wouldn't go crazy for one day and then go to my job the next morning and never bring it up again. 

Barcelona, you crazy.

Here's pictures...http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/gallery/2012/mar/30/spain-barcelona-general-strike

San Sebastian

The weekend after London, Hannah came to see me from Germany and we road tripped with Jared, Karen, and Angie to San Sebastian, Spain which is in the Basque region. It's crazy how they let you rent cars here when you're only 18. Jared assumed the role of all-time driver since none of the rest of us knew how to drive stick, and after signing our lives away, we were off to San Sebastian.

Now imagine packing 5 20/21 year olds in this

Start of a 6 hour drive on the Autovia

After driving 6 hours through the mountains in the dark, 95 roundabouts, and a very confused GPS, we finally arrived in San Sebastian and checked into our hostel, a cozy little hostel near the beach. I'm pretty sure it was actually just a couple extra rooms in the owner's house, but that's still up for debate.

3 deep at La Casa hostel

We spent all day Saturday at the beach sipping San Miguels and people watching. The beach was really pretty. We had a lunch of different tapas (or pintxos as they're called in the Basque region) and then at night went out to dinner at a restaurant recommended to us by our hostel. It wasn't very good so we ended up going to a few more tapas restaurants afterwards sampling the famous pintxos of the Old Town. Here's some pictures from the day.

Pintxos in Constitution Square

Basque Jamon Serrano

Squid

My Dad's dream

Well hey there, Princess

Playa de La Concha

Ski jump competition on the beach (ramp on the far left)

Pintxos in the Old Town

Parsley and garlic mushroom pintxos

Sunday we got up bright and early in the morning to hike to the top of Monte Urgell. We stopped on the way to get coffee and chocolate pastries and then proceeded to climb the 45 minute hike. The hike was not hard at all and offered unbeatable views of San Sebastian.

Concha from Monte Urgell

standard

 After our hike, it was time to start the drive back which turned out to be just as gorgeous as San Sebastian. Since it was daylight, we could actually see what we were driving through and stopped to take a lot of pictures. Jared wasn't a very happy camper for that part. Here's pictures from the drive back.

 

Car inspection after going through some pot holes

San Martin Eliza and Berastegi

Cruising through the Aragon countryside

You Sound Like You're From London!

Since dear ol' Shell didn't get the Step Brothers reference and isn't exactly what we'd call a movie buff, I'll just throw out this link right in the beginning to settle any confusion about the title http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTiDO--q9Xg. (always thinking of you mum!)

Anddd now moving on.

St. Patrick's Day weekend I flew to London to visit the one and only Jordyn/Coadman/Coadcaine/Nugget Coad.

CUTE as a button

I flew in on a Thursday so I'd have as much time as possible before Monday classes and after a minor mishap when I came to the realization that my Spanish phone wasn't working we were reunited!

Back in Madison, I'd say I eat Qdoba at least 3 times a week and since Spain has yet to jump on the Qdoba/Chipotle bandwagon I've been craving it so much since I've been here. (Actually pretty much all of the Madison study abroad students mention how much they miss Chip/Qubs at least once a day.) So naturally, my first stop in London was taking a taxi to Chipotle (with suitcase still in hand). Yummm best burrito ever.

From Chipotle, we took the tube (way more expensive than in Barcelona but also nicer) to Jordyn's flat in the South Kensington/Chelsea area near Hyde Park. Her flat is in a gorgeous neighborhood with winding tree-lined streets full of mansions, columned townhouses, parks/gardens, and royal residences. Just a little different than the good old Melon District...

We got all the touristy stuff/solo pics out of the way first with a walk past St. Paul's Cathedral, Tower Bridge, Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park, Big Ben, and Kensington Palace.  The city actually reminded me a lot of New York City, except with classier cabs, people, and stunning British men (all in suits). It also was such a relief to be able to speak in English again and not be hated for being American (if anything, they seemed to like you more when they found out you were American).

Traphouse Reunited

By popular recommendation, our last tourist stop of the day was a sunset ride on the London Eye (how romantic). The London Eye is a massive ferris wheel with amazing views of the city. I could have done without the steep price of 20 pounds, although it did include a surprisingly realistic 4D pre-show, but it was definitely worth it.

View from the London Eye

For dinner we stopped at a pub on the river and ate on the outdoor terrace. I had my first steak and ale pie and my first ever Guinness. I loved them both and I haven't stopped drinking Guinness since. New favorite beer.

Steak & Ale Pie

By the end of our full day of activities, going out turned into an inconceivable concept, so we instead went back to Jordyn's flat where I proceeded to fall asleep mid-conversation with the lights on. (just a little tired)

The next morning we got breakfast at a little cafe down the street before embarking on an epic shopping venture to Top Shop (goodbye all my money), Harrod's, and Camden Market. Top Shop is one of my favorite websites to shop on back in the States and they're headquartered in London where they have the biggest Top Shop of all time. They have everything from clothes to accessories to shoes to formal wear. Heck, you could even get your nails done, extensions put in, a massage, and spa treatment all within the store. We spent at least a good 3 hours in there before I had to force myself to leave. Needless to say, I spent the entire shopping budget I gave myself for my 4 months abroad at Top Shop. oops.

Breakfast of yogurt, fruit, honey, and homemade granola. Nom.

Goodbye money

From Top Shop, we moved on to Harrod's, the world's most famous luxury department store. Never in my life have I seen so many different designer brands. Designer brands for babies. Designer brands for chocolate. Designer brands for water! It seemed like we were in an entirely different world. We even stumbled upon a state-of-the-art dog grooming facility where you could watch dogs get outrageous spa treatments and even run on a treadmill. Click here for the song the song that was going through my head at this point. The department store is well known for its celebrity shoppers, historically including Princess Diana and the Royal Family. Feeling entirely out of our league, Jord and I settled for petting the 5000 British pound puppies, sharing some "designer" ice cream at a fancy little ice cream parlor inside, and buying one copy each of the Hunger Games and Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (I had been waiting forever to find books in English). Since taking pictures would have blown my cover (since I was keeping up with my English royalty persona so well) these Google pics will have to do.

Harrod's

Inside Harrod's

From Harrod's, it was on to Camden Market which could not have been more different. Camden is a mostly outdoor market filled with stalls and vendors selling anything and everything from refurbished vintage clothing (my favorite) to mulled wine and vintage records. I'm not very good at bargaining and I didn't have much pull carrying my huge Top Shop bag, but I managed to get a pair of vintage jean shorts and the best homemade mac and cheese I've ever had.

Camden Market

We almost decided to go see Abbey Road, but then decided to just watch all the tourists look ridiculous posing for pictures on the live webcast instead. We went out to eat at an Italian restaurant that night that was so authentic the wait staff only spoke Italian. Communication required a lot of pointing but the food was delicious.

Saturday was St. Patrick's Day so all tourist activities were ceased to celebrate the holiday right. We started off the day with homemade bloody marys, then fish and chips, and then lots of Guinness and cider. We spent most of the day/night at a packed pub named Brogan's (ironic if you know our long history with Logan's in Madison...) drinking Guinness, watching the Ireland/England rugby match, chatting with a Hugh Grant look-a-like, attempting to Irish dance, and teaching the Brits how to play flip cup. I also tried my first Blackthorn on Black (cider with currant juice) and Snake Bite (beer, cider, and currant juice). Definitely my best St. Patrick's Day ever.

Fish & Chips

Group at Brogan's

Hey there Hugh

Blackthorn on Black

From there, I got about a half hour of sleep before I had to get up for my flight. Thankfully the journey back went smoothly although I thought I was going to fall asleep standing up and then was forced to stay awake for the entire flight back listening to the guy next to me explain his extensive list of life philosophies and crazy ex-wife. Good times.

Cava...o?

Woww sooo it's been a little while since my last post. I swear studying here with the slow-paced, care free lifestyle and super easy classes has made writing even the simplest blog post seem comparable to running a 100 mile marathon through the desert (so dramatic but sadly true). I honestly feel accomplished when I write an email to my parents now, let alone a paragraph. But I know future me would really want now me to stop being dramatic and just write it already and get it over with so here goes.

A couple weeks ago, our program took us on a cava tasting tour and tasting (take notes America). According to Wikipedia, cava is "a Spanish sparkling wine of Denominacion de Origen," put simply, Catalan champagne. It can be rose or white and varies in sweetness depending on the variety. About 95% of all cava is produced in the Penedes area in Catalonia, with the village of Sant Sandurni d'Anoia housing the two biggest producers, Codorniu (where we went!) and Freixenet.

The tour was super interesting. I've never been on a wine tour or tasting and had never really thought about how wine that's "aged 5 years" actually has to sit somewhere cold, dark, and underground for 5 years. The cellars were massive and extend up to 30 miles underneath the ground (still inconceivable to me). The winery has been in the Codorniu family for 5 centuries (our tour was given by one of the family members). We even got to go on a Universal Studios-esque train ride through the cellars.

The tour was cool but my favorite part was trying all the different types of cava at the end of the tour. It was probably the classiest I've felt...ever. We even learned how to properly taste the wine by mixing it with air in your mouth to bring out all the "hidden flavors". After the unlimited cava, they cunningly guide you straight to the gift shop before you leave. I'd say about 80% of the people bought something, which would probably have never happened pre-cava. (there you go Kohl's, maybe I'll bring a few new ideas to this summer internship after all)

After the tour we took a bus to Sitges, a nearby town where I had previously visited for Carnival. It was nice seeing it in the daylight without hundreds of thousands of masked crazy people. We grabbed lunch at a little place with a menu del dia (salad with goat cheese and Argentinian sausage), got a couple bloody marys and grabbed some gelato by the beach before returning to the bus for our drive back to Barcelona. During our drive back we engaged in a wild animal search/safari/competition to see who could spot the most prostitutes posted up alongside the highway in their plastic chairs and booty-high boots. Oh Barcelona, how I will miss you.

Sideways Argentinian Sausage (iPhone is being sassy)

Cava Caves

Classy Ladiez

Me, Meghan, Morgan, and Maddie