I’m on a train to Florence and have half an hour. Ergo, I write!
It’s been a while, and quite a few trips have been taken. Taryn and I went to Tarifa February 22nd – 23rd, and my god do I need to go back. It was very rainy and windy when we were there, but we made the most of it by cooking dinner and playing rummy for 4 hours at the hostel with some interesting people. Let me just tell you that I couldn’t have had a better first hostel experience anywhere else. The Melting Pot was 20 euro a night and well worth it. The bed we shared was HUGE and very comfortable, and there was a big armoire with locks for our bags. Breakfast was included, and they had pretty solid coffee (how I rate, well, everything). It was very close to the beach, which will be nice when we go back for surfing ☺ (Tarifa is the wind surf capital of Europe). There was a dog, Malu, who was one of the cuddliest animals I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was waiting outside my door at 8a when I got up and latched his teeth onto my pants when I didn’t pet him for more than 5 minutes. We met a bunch of kids originally from Texas but studying in Seville, and wandered around the beach with them the next day. There’s really no way to describe Tarifa as it was when we were there. The best I can do is offer photos and have you listen to Windsor for the Derby – The Melody of a Fallen Tree at the same time. And then read Chbosky’s
The Perks of Being a Wallflower and figure out what it means to feel “infinite”. It was glorious. We left a bit early because the weather took a turn for the worst, but we’re going back the 2nd weekend of April. So excited.
The next trip was to Tenerife, the largest of the Canary Islands. It really reminded me of Hawaii… volcanoes, beaches, an interesting mix of touristy and untouched. Taryn and I stayed at an all-inclusive hotel, which was probably the best thing for a trip like that: $60 a night, and this included as many drinks as we want (I actually asked the bartender at 10a if there was a limit and he gave me the strangest look. Serves me right) and buffet-style breakfast, lunch and dinner. We got in at around 2a, and plates of bread and cold cuts were waiting for us in our room. We polished them off and fell asleep immediately after. The next day we woke up and decided that, since we had nothing planned, drinking was in order. 3 sangrias each with no food in our stomachs made for an interesting morning/afternoon, and we inevitably fell asleep for 5 hours, waking up in time for dinner. The next day, we had a tour of the Northern side with perhaps the funniest tour guide I’ve ever had. We were the only Americans (everyone else was British), so a fair amount of teasing ensued. We had an AMAZING lunch of potatoes, chicken, and tinto (simplicity = perfection). The ride back to the hotel was set to the tour guide’s mix CD of Britney Spears and Enrique Iglesias.
We decided to explore the clubs that night with the intention of ending up at the bar where the bartender I had been flirting with earlier that morning was working. We start the night at 10p and make our way over to our final destination by midnight (very, very early by Spanish standards). We get a few free beers, and I wander over to the bathroom to gussy up (yeah that’s right). I trip on my way out but make nothing of it. It turns out I cut my toe bad enough to soak up my flip flop and leave a puddle of blood on the floor. Taryn tells me it’s time to go home, so I run up the white marble stairs to my room. There was a trail of bloody footsteps following me. The bartender watched me limp my way up. Goddamnit. The last day was spent on the beach soaking up as much sun as possible before taking the flight back to Spain. We had amazing Mexican food for dinner (fajitas… fajitas…) and left Tenerife on a very good note.
We left Tenerife at 2:55a on Saturday because my sister and mother were getting into Jerez at 1:15p that afternoon. I was exhausted but so excited to see my family, and I can’t even describe how elated I was when they walked through the sliding doors (with no less than 2 suitcases a piece. For less than a week in Cadiz. These girls do serious monetary damage wherever they go). My sister had studied in Granada for a month during high school and had taken courses in Spanish since she was little, so communicating with everyone in Cadiz wasn’t a problem. My mother, on the other hand, knew about 10 words total and finally resorted to speaking in English without asking if people spoke English first (much to the chagrin of Kai and I. Ah well. Que se puede hacer). We ate at 2 wonderful tapaterias and spent a lot of time sightseeing,
shopping, and lying on the beach. I wish they could have stayed longer… I’ll see them both in 2 months :)
The two weeks before Semana Santa (spring break) were spent in the library studying for exams. There were 4: Language, History of Spain, Literature, and Linguistics. I did well on my Language and History of Spain exams, the other two… hmm. Good thing we get to retake Linguistics, and I haven’t gotten the results for Literature. The funny thing about Comparative Literature is that I’ve never had exams, only papers, where you have plenty of room to argue your point. A test asking for paragraph comparisons of vastly different writers is new to me, but at least I know how to study for the next one. No me preocupo.
We spent 3 nights in Rome and 3 nights in Florence. Both cities are amazing, but Florence appealed more to me. It reminded me of Cadiz in this cobble-stone, tons of plazas, one lane road kind of way, and I’m finding that I
miss Cadiz quite a bit when I’m away for more than a couple days at a time. Feels like home! In Rome, we took advantage of the DELICIOUS pastas, pizzas, calzones (which, by the way, translates to “pants” in English), bruschette, gelato, and red wine. We never had a bad meal, and found that you didn’t need to spend too much to eat very well. Our first day was spent on a tour of the Vatican museums and St. Peter’s Cathedral, which were all very interesting (although it is highly recommended
to wear comfortable walking shoes. Chucks don’t cut it). Aubrie and I body-slammed people who were taking pictures in the Sistine Chapel (for fuck’s sake, 1. The rules are there for a reason. Stop eroding the paint 2. Buy a postcard).
The next day, we roamed (ha) the city with these boys from Minnesota who were staying at our
hostel. One of them had studied there for a semester, so he knew his way around the city, spoke a little Italian, and was full of random facts about various neighborhoods and sites. Among a myriad of things we saw were the Pantheon, Coliseum, and this MASSIVE street fair (where I bought a porcupine for my glass menagerie. Don’t judge).
I destroyed myself that night with a bottle of wine, 7 shots of tequila, and 2 beers within a 2 and a half hour period. Don’t worry, I know that that is about the stupidest thing anyone can do. I don’t remember a solid 8 hours of my life (and was almost taken to the hospital! What hot fun that could have been), but my travel buddies have been kind enough to fill me in on the events of that night, which were thankfully limited to being completely unresponsive to, well, everything, and puking on, well, everything. I woke up in Aubrie’s bed with my feet in Sara’s face. The next morning was spent dishing out apologies and thanks to everyone who had to deal with me ( I was carried home by 3 very patient Italian boys, had my stomach pushed on by this Hungarian fellow who swore that it was the best thing to do to “make the alcohol come out of my mouth”, and was held up in the shower by the love of my life, Aubrie, and this Brazilian girl who was so frustrated by me that, after I fell out of the shower, from which I have a saucer sized bruise on my left hip, snapped, “You have to help us help you.” Let me explain my physical state: I was legitimately drooling on myself, cross-eyed, and incapable of moving on my own, speaking, and taking advice) and a solid promise to never drink more than 3 drinks per weekend night for the duration of
my study abroad program (Trust me to do it after something like that. Seriously.),
Needless to say, the day was spent washing all of the clothes I had sullied, sleeping, and doing homework. I’m pissed that I missed a day in Rome, but upon arrival, Aubrie and I will be going to the Palatino so I can catch up a little.
On Tuesday, we left for Florence by train. Our hostel was very different from the one in Rome: much bigger, a kitchen one could actually cook in, but the reception was in a different hostel a solid 3 blocks away, and there weren’t as many people. We met this group of guys from Barcelona who were shocked to hear about some of the norms in Cadiz (“They actually use “picha” casually?”) We made dinner 2 of the three nights we were there, and went to Za-Za’s (HIGHLY recommended. The portions aren’t that big, but are still filling) for the other. Emily and I had tours of the Accademia and Uffizi, both of which were very interesting and made me wonder why I never took a class in art history. We visited the Duomo with high hopes of climbing it, but alas, it’s closed from March 20 – 24 for Easter.
We visited the Boboli gardens on our last day, and hilarious pictures ensued thanks to Aubrie’s mix of delusional-hyper resulting from too much sugar in her gelato. I ordered a pair of black knee-high flat boots from a leather smith close to the Boboli gardens that will be custom made (hurray!) and sent to Cadiz within 3 weeks. I am withholding the price, but will tell you that it was less than $400. I feel really good about this purchase and will continue to wear and resole them for the rest of my life. Custom made boots! From Florence!
I’ve actually been writing this entry over the past 3 days because I haven’t had wireless in Florence, but now we’re on our way back to Rome for our last night. I’ll be able to publish this entry there. The Barcelona boys are in
Rome tonight and want to go out, and the boys from Minnesota will still be at the same hostel we stayed at. It
promises to be an interesting night.
