Backpackers Lesson #4, Part 2!

Missed part one of my trip through Italy? Here's the first few days.

The facade of the Medici Family Church. Never finished, but prepped to
receive the marble!

My second morning in Florence I took a FREE walking tour of the city, where I learned the history of the Medici family, really the family responsible for starting the Renaissance. Exploring the ancient part of Florence, I saw the image of Dante, and entered the tiny chapel outside of which he met the inspiration for his Divine Comedy. The rainy day that followed saw me fighting to get into various museums and churches, after a wonderful panino, or sandwich at a small shop tucked away on a side street. Eventually I made it in the museum, saw the David and left. I wasn't particularly impressed by the rest of the works--nor was I a fan of the masses of people that seemed to bump into me at every opportunity. If I had extra time, I really wanted to go to the Uffizi museum--which seems to have a much greater variety of classic art by some of the greatest artists of the Renaissance. I spent the rest

Backpacker's Lesson #4: Avoid the tourists.

I'm not kidding. Avoid them. "Wait...aren't you a tourist, too?" No. Well, technically yes. But I like to think not--there's a reason I stay at a hostel; it's because I'm a cheap college student that can't really afford to pay for a hotel. So no, I'm not a tourist. I'm a backpacker. (Let's just avoid the technicalities of this, okay? Great.)

My Italy trip was the second (and final) trip that I made solo. I spent my first day in Rome, checking out the Vatican City. Like a true, uninformed tourist--er, backpacker--I took my passport with me. I was going to the world's smallest country; I wanted a stamp to prove it!

Backpacker's Lesson #3: Trust Yourself

My first solo adventure, and it took some guts. I took a weekend trip to País Vasco, in the northern part of Spain and visited Bilbao and San Sebastian. It's an incredible part of Spain and so different than Madrid, Barcelona, or the southern regions. País Vasco is all its own. I was struck by how much of a different world it really is. The region has its own language known in English as vasco, in their language as euskadí. And from what I've heard, the language has no known connection to ANY other modern language. Strange, eh? So let's get started on this journey.

A Farewell to Spain

My study abroad experience is behind me, but Spain will forever be a part of me. Not only did I see tons of the country that's been calling my name for years now, but I saw it -- and lived it -- with some amazing people.

What I really didn't expect is how much those people made my memories of Spain so special. I'll never forget spending a couple days in San Sebastián with Scott and Jordan, some of the coolest Canadians ever (Hope you get your stuff back from my landlord!). I love all my German-speaking friends, finding those delicious places throughout Madrid and taking me along. I'll remember clubbing with pretty much every international student at UC3M, and staying out until the trains started running again.

I've seen 5 different countries in the last semester (the UK, Italy, Morocco, and the Netherlands), and I spent them all with some incredible people. I grew to trust myself and to know that I can take care of myself. I grew so much as a person and changed more than I could ever have imagined. The past six months have given me more memories (and photos) than I know what to do with.

The only thing I can say is thank you. Thank you to my family for supporting me and allowing me to test myself like this. Thank you to my friends who stayed in touch with me from seven time zones away. Thank you to the people of Spain, who encouraged me to practice my Spanish and to embrace true Spanish living. Thank you to my new-found friends, from all over the world, who helped write a chapter of my life that I could never really put into words.

And most of all, thank you to the random people that I met along the way. Those people that helped me find delicious hole-in-the-wall restaurants in Rome, met me for drinks when they visited Madrid, and chatted with me at breakfast in my hostel. Thank you to those people that will never know what they did to make my trips that much more special.

Thank you for following me on this journey. I'm home again, but my time in Spain lives on.

A bit of Spanish Culture...and an update

First off, let me apologize for not maintaining this blog like I should have. As things have been winding down, I've been incredibly busy. But I wanted to get at least one more post up before I head home in June!


Semana Santa
Semana Santa, otherwise known as Holy Week, is incredibly important to Spaniards--especially in the South. Throughout the entire week, there are processions led by various churches throughout the cities. I was lucky enough to see one procession here in Madrid (my time in London sort of messed up traveling further south for their celebrations) and it was incredible.
The various organizations within the church work the entire year preparing for the processions of Holy Week, and it turned out to be one of the most moving experiences I've had in Europe in the past four months. People line up for hours, waiting for a chance to see it. The procession starts with men in hooded robes--yes, very similar to the KKK version. And although there was absolutely nothing threatening about these people, it

Gaudí, as promised

Need a refresher? Here's my post about Barcelona.

Antoni Gaudí, the most recognizable figure of Catalán, and Barcelona's, history. He was an incredibly innovative architect that I certainly would never have thought possible. He left his mark on the city of Barcelona with several distinctive buildings and one still-unfinished basilica.

Gaudí was a master of modernismo, a new type of art and architecture in his time (early 1900s). His work has deep connections with nature, both in the literal sense--having a seashell hanging on the wall--and in a less obvious sense--putting mosaics at the top of columns to mimic a tree, using gravity to design his buildings, and much more.

Let's start with Parc Guell, one of my favorite works of Gaudí. The original plan was to design a housing complex for Barcelona's elite upper class, with a massive park in the middle. After building two test-homes (no two houses would be alike, keep in mind), the public was

Backpackers Lesson #2: You won't meet the Queen. Avoid Authors.

At the British Museum. Along with
the Rosetta Stone, but this is more
interesting to look at. For sure.

For part of my spring break I took a trip with my roommate, Jeff, to London for a few days. It was my first trip outside of Spain, and the first excursion that I planned mostly on my own. It started out with a bit of a fiasco at airport security. To fly cheaply, you can't check a bag, and the liquid requirement completely slipped my mind. I lost my shampoo, body wash, and shaving cream. But things can be replaced, I was there for an experience, not a shower. (Although, of course, I showered every day.)

After checking into an awesome hostel with a pub downstairs (even if it didn't have a whole lot of showers...), Jeff and I hit up the touristy spots. Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye, some fish and chips, and DR. PEPPER!!!

The Family Tour Guide

After our weekend in Barcelona, it was time to bring the family to Madrid and show them the place that I've called home for the past 3 months. I had no school on Monday (for some religious holiday that isn't really celebrated in the States) so I got them moved into their apartment and then took them to the Plaza de Santa Ana to find some lunch. We then went on a quick tour of central Madrid--Puerta del Sol (the center of Madrid...and Spain for that matter), the opera house, then Plaza Mayor and the Mercado de San Miguel. We grabbed some groceries and dropped them off before making a reservation for a Flamenco show that night. With Spanish guitars, a few singers, and some VERY talented dancers, flamenco is a type of dance that almost seems to mimic the motions of

Barcelona Reunions

Oh, Barcelona. We meet again, my old friend. Last Friday (the beginning of Arkansas's spring break, just for clarification), I took a little trip to Barcelona. I've been to Barcelona before, but that was three years ago, way back in my junior year of high school; needless to say, I was excited to get back to what was for many years my favorite place in Spain.

Not only did I reunite with the incredibly cool, youthful city, but I got to meet up with a few of my favorite people--mi madre and a couple of my aunts. After a 3-hour, high-speed train ride, I arrived in Barcelona--alone. Took a taxi to what I thought was my family's hotel; of course, that was before I knew that there were two Hotel Constanzas in Barcelona. Luckily, Google Maps had

Backpacker's Lesson #1: Always charge your camera...

...and then put it away. (More on that in a bit.)

I spent this weekend in Granada with a few newly-found friends. Friday night was an adventure in itself--a five hour bus ride, figuring out what bus got us closest to our hostel, and then trying to FIND our hostel in the maze of narrow, twisted streets. I was certainly thankful when we walked in the door. I was ready to throw my stuff down and find some GRUB!!! I grabbed some leftover paella from the hostel's kitchen after someone offered it to me. We left the hostel in search of some (more) good food. We wound up getting some tortilla (a potato omelette) and ratatouille, with our bottle of wine--thank goodness for tapas! I ate well, to say the least.

Speaking of the hostel (Oasis Hostel), it was so much nicer than I had expected. The lobby was nice with a seating area so you could sit and talk with other travelers. The kitchen was very clean, with nice dishes, and a free breakfast--you cooked it yourself, but still, it was good. Our room held six people, so the five of us were sharing with

A Standing Ovation?

Yes. It's true. When I finished singing "Grenade" by Bruno Mars, I had an entire room on its feet. Granted, most of the people in the room were pretty drunk, but I think that makes it even more impressive. Drunks are a tough crowd to please.

Oh, you want an explanation? I guess that makes sense. This past Saturday, I was out on the town at a club called Kapital--seven floors of music, dancing, and (apparently) karaoke. I've sung a few Disney songs around my friends, just joking around, so they wanted me to hit up the karaoke. And I did. Twice. It probably helped that I'd had a couple drinks before I got up there, but I don't think it mattered too much. There were multiple times that everyone cheered me on, so I was quite happy with my performance. So happy, in fact, that I gave an encore about thirty minutes later of "Chasing Pavements." That's right, I took on Adele. And in the minds of the people on the second floor of Kapital, I wasn't too shabby. I'm putting it in the "Win" category of Study Abroad experiences.

Here's a couple more random things to keep you interested!

A while back, I met up with some friends to go to the Museo de Prado, an incredible art museum, with works from all over Europe, painted by some of the most famous classic painters--Velazquez, Rafael, Goya, El Greco to name a few. After 2 hours, I had only covered one floor! So we left, and when we walked outside, we found THRONGS (please note the R. It's there.) of people! We discovered that all these people--literally thousands--were protesting the austerity measures of the new Spanish government, after a recent change in power. Basically, public workers' wages are frozen, meaning no raises for now, and the government wants to take away paid sick and vacation days for public school teachers. I can understand why people are upset. 

Hungry, we made our way through the crowd to get some 100 Montaditos (check out the "Chowing Down" tab for more info) before meeting up with one of the girl's Spanish roommate. We went to this really small bar, with some very fruity sangria--the fruit was still in it, and was delicious--and a great vibe. I wound up getting to use my Spanish a lot, having a conversation about the World Cup, which got a little heated, meaning they spoke RIDICULOUSLY fast. But I still understood it! It was exciting.

Now, another "sexy food story," as my friend back home calls it. TAPAS! The Spanish way. There's a neighborhood known for its tapas--La Latina--and it has a street known for the best of the best--Calle Cava Baja. Basically, you just walk down it until you find a tapas bar you'd like to give a go. The name of the one pictured here escapes me, but it was really good. I had a cangrejo (a crab salad) and something similar to taquitos or mini enchiladas, each served on a piece of bread. That's really where tapas came from in the first place--pieces of bread to cover (aka tapear) your drink. And it just evolved from there. There's all kinds of choices, with tons of variety. I've got to find me a few more good tapas bars soon!

As a final note, to those of you that enjoy reading my posts (and I guess even if you don't...), feel free to comment and ask questions! Also, I'm most certainly open to suggestions of things to write, so don't hesitate to let me know what you'd like me to write about!

Not Everything's Peachy...

I feel like I have deceived you somewhat. This trip really is the most incredible experience of my life, and overall I'm having an amazing time, but not everything has been perfect. I guess that's impossible, honestly. There have been times where it's been really difficult for me to keep it together. So I'll fill you in on the times where Spain hasn't been everything I hoped it would.

1.) Getting internet. I think this has been the most frustrating thing I've had to deal with. I've mentioned it before, but now you get the whole story!

The Creep with Weed in his Pocket...And More

I was so excited when I thought up this post. Mainly because the experience was hilarious. (Disclaimer: I am not the guy with weed in his pocket.)

     Several nights ago, (I think it was last Saturday) some friends and I went out for drinks. We met in Puerta del Sol and had to wait on another guy to show up because he was bringing a friend. When he showed up, his friend was in his late 30s. Awkward. But you know, we gave him a chance. He was a Spaniard, so maybe it's normal for them to go out on the town with people half their age? (It's not.) The bar was nice, and really full, but we all had a good time talking in our little segmented groups. Until creepy old guy showed up again. He basically started talking to me from across the room, so I had to lean across a bunch of other people just to hear what he was saying.

     He kept talking about how we were such good friends--keep in mind that by this point I hadn't even spoken to him, other than telling him my name--and so I smiled goodnaturedly. So here we are, leaning back and forth as he stops and starts the conversation, when he leans in one last time...

Everyday Life and a Tourist Day

It's certainly a different vibe on the UC3M campus than it is back home. First of all, no one is on campus unless they have to be. And also, the Spanish students have no respect for their professors. In all of my classes, they sit there and talk through the entire lecture! And it's not even like they're whispering...it's just like they're talking in the cafeteria or something. And for whatever reason, the professors are okay with it! Some of them don't even try to get the class to be quiet. Apparently it's only a Spanish thing too. I've talked to other people from Holland, Germany, and other places, and all of them are just as blown away as I am. 

The only explanation that anyone has been able to give me is that education here is really cheap compared to the USA. So it's not as big a deal to them if they fail a class because it doesn't really cost them very much. But, for real? And people say that Americans are rude. (Maybe we're fairly ignorant about the rest of the world, but we at least try to polite.)

The library here is pretty intense, though. It just has an awesome layout. It's not like I'll ever really use it for the books (does anyone use the university library unless he's writing a thesis or something?), but it's still cool to have.

(Photo credit to Sohail Badami)

Okay. Now I have a bone to pick with the street-cleaners here. The weather has turned really cold over the past few days -- like in the 20s -- but the city must stay clean! They have these, I don't know, weird garbage truck things that sweep up

Somos hombres o somos rantoncitos?

"Are we men, or are we mice?" It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? (Almost better in English. I'm a fan of the alliteration.) This is my new favorite Spanish expression, and I'm somewhat obsessed with it. Here's the origen: Saturday night, I had dinner with my UC3M Buddy, Daniel, and the some of the rest of the people from our buddy group. We went to a restaurant called Cañas y Tapas. Some of Daniel's friends came with him and dispersed themselves throughout the group so that all of us had someone to talk to who was from Spain. I wound up seating at the end of the table, next to one of Daniel's friends, and across from some Italian girls that understood Spanish, but spoke pretty much only Italian. It was an interesting setup that turned out quite well. In my search for authentic Spanish food, my Spanish-native neighbor, Javier, suggested we split a 3-course meal. Started with an ensalada del país, a salad with tuna, eggs, and of course, Spanish olives (of which I am sadly not a fan. Some Spaniard I would be.). Dressed with olive oil and a little salt. According to Spanish culture, you eat everything on the plate. Which proved a little hard for me because I didn't like the eggs or tomatoes. 

Course 2: Gambas y Gulas. Gambas are basically just shrimp. Gulas, on the other hand... Well, no one could really tell me what they were. It's some type of seafood, I know. They didn't really taste like anything, so I was fine with eating them. Also in the wok that it was served in was a fried egg, all served over french fries. Honestly it was pretty good.

(Notes: Gulas and Angulas are essentially the same thing. Except Angulas are a WHOLE lot more expensive. So I'll be sticking with gulas. Also, the dish I had looked a whole lot tastier than this picture I googled. And much less...wormy.)

Course 3: Some sort of pork. Javier and I by this point were getting really full. I said something about how he should eat more of it than me. He replied by saying "Somos hombres, o somos ratoncitos?" A challenge? Yes, it was. And I wasn't about to back

I'm still a tourist...

Despite my best efforts to avoid this situation, I still stick out. I don't understand. I've got my scarf tied around my neck, I'm looking nice, and yet people still automatically try to talk to me in English. Even if they don't hear Jeff (my roommate) and I speaking English first. We've gotten a lot of dirty looks from people; it's almost like they don't want us here. 

The past few days have been pretty expensive...probably because I'm still thinking like a tourist. I went out for tapas (which should normally be pretty cheap) and sangría, and it

Packing to Remember

I leave in just over a week. And I don't really know what I'm doing--I mean, I don't have a place to live, (currently) don't have a place to stay while I look for a place to live, and I have no idea how to pack for five months of life. The last five months of my life barely fit in a car, much less a suitcase that has to weigh less than fifty pounds (I REFUSE to pay for more than I have to. The plane ticket was expensive enough.)

So, instead of packing practically, I'm packing to remember. Remember what, you ask? As much as possible.