Twas the night before orientation...

After running out of things to do to entertain myself (i.e. finished the Hunger Games series and want to procrastinate packing for yet another trip for as long as possible), I took some time to look back at the past 10 days when I embarked on my Spanish tour. Each city was beautiful and captivating in its own way and I continue to appreciate the rich diversity of the Iberian peninsula. Here are some things I noted:

• The food was best in San Sebastian, closely followed by Valencia. The north also had the best wine, hands down.
• The people in Valencia were the nicest. They seemed to be the least annoyed at my requests for clarifications and offered extra help whenever they could.
• The linguistic diversity in Spain is no joke! In the north, most things were posted primarily in Euskera and then Castellano (Spanish) underneath. The same is true for Valencia, where there is widespread use of Valenciano (the name for Catalan in the Valencian province) as the primary language and then Castellano as the second language. Valencian has a bit of a French twang to it, so between that and all of the Italian and German tourists, it was actually a bit strange sometimes to hear standard Spanish out in public. 

Lastly, I was sure to walk as much as possible and minimize my use of public transportation in order to get the true feel of each place I visited. The first few days, I made hour long treks in shoes that, though somewhat stylish, did not treat my feet kindly. By the fourth day, I gave up entirely on the whole dress-like-a-Spaniard thing and busted out my comfy, touristy, running shoes. My feet were still pretty blistered and achy throughout the entire trip because I never truly rested enough to recover, but even so I continued on foot through each city. 

After coming across a blog post about celebrating the end of a social experiment called The Naked Face Project and reflecting a little bit about how much I walked throughout the week, I realized what it actually means to have these uncomfortable aches as a souvenir of my trip - it means that my body is healthy enough to carry me through trips like that. That I am blessed to have the use of my legs to help me explore new things. This detail of my trip is just another example of the abundance of blessings I have been given. - I'll have to remind myself of this once we start orientation, because if it is anything like winter quarter's orientation, we may be walking (or should I say climbing) up several steep hills. 

With that said, tomorrow I get to meet 30 new classmates and begin the second half of my Spanish adventure. Let the games begin! (--> couldn't resist a reference to the Hunger Games, though it's probably not the most appropriate comment in this sense)

Home, sweet home

My last full day in Valencia involved alot of food, horchata, and sleeping in the sun. I live a hard life, I know.

I also went on a searching frenzy for Catching Fire, because of course I could not wait the 1 day it would take to get back to Madrid. After I found a copy in English and paid more for it than what I usually pay for leisure books, I promptly sat down at 7pm and read through dinner (oops), not stopping until I realized if I finished the book in one day, I would have nothing to read on the bus home and I'd be left with torturous anticipation at getting the third book.

Packing and checking out the next day went as usual, I walked the 20 minutes it takes to get to the bus station and arrived a bit early, so I began to read my book while I waited. A couple minutes into my reading, by which time I am completely absorbed in the action once again, I am startled by the "perdon" of a police officer with 3 of his fellow officers who have basically surrounded my bench. I am rather confused as he asks to see my bus ticket, followed by my passport, all while he and the officer to his left is scribbling things in a little notebook. The remaining two officers stand on my other side, nonchalantly whispering things back and forth between themselves. I had never had a "security check" of this type when traveling by bus, and it was a bit funny to see them scribbling away furiously in such a serious manner (what could they possibly be writing??).

He gives me back my ticket and passport and then continues asking me questions like "where are you from?" (didn't you just see my passport?), "what are you doing here?" (I study in Madrid), and by the time he asks "when does your visa expire?" (June), he trails into a series of questions and comments which could be borderline flirting but just add to the strangeness of the encounter. Mostly because I had all FOUR officers around me during the minutes of silence as they reviewed my documents and scribbled in their notebooks, and afterwards the officers spent a max of 15 seconds with any other passenger they questioned.

By the time they left, it was nearing my departure time, so I left the lobby for the bus terminal. I boarded the bus, looking forward to the relatively short time it would take to reach Madrid after having so many long bus/train trips in the last week. I settled in, whipped out my book, and 30 minutes later I had finished the second book. (Now what would I do for the next 3.5 hours??). I'm sure I looked like a crazy person with my nose centimeters from the page as I read those last few chapters- these books have just absolutely captivated me.

The rest of the trip was uneventful and was incredibly relieved when we arrived at the Madrid bus station. Unfortunately, it is another bus station from the one I took, which is literally the furthest point in the city in the opposite direction of my house on the Circular metro line. Grrr.

But I made it home and even got to hang out with a friend to ease me back into the comfort which is Madrid (holla, VIPS) Now I have real business to attend to that I have ignored all week (summer job, housing, financial aid forms, oh my!), and some more packing to do for Barcelona later this week!

Beaches & books

Since I spent one day in Bilbao and Zaragoza each, this meant that I was forced to wake up well before 8am for 3 mornings in a row in order to catch an early bus to my destinations. With jam-packed days of walking and traveling (which is always strangely exhausting in itself), and less than quality sleep at a couple hostels along the way, my body was craving some rest. After catching up on emails that are longggggg overdue (isn't everyone else on spring break too???), I went to bed at 11pm and slept solidly until 7am. I did a slight double-take when I saw the time on my phone, but I only managed to sleep another hour until I got restless and decided I may as well get a start on the day.

The hostel was full of early risers though and I got to chat with some fellow world-travelers about the best places to visit in Spain (may or may not have shamelessly plugged Madrid, definitely one of my favorite cities). I then set out to visit the Central Market, which is this absolutely beautiful market that has rows upon endless rows of fresh produce, fresh meats and seafood, and freshly pressed fruit juices. They had one of these in Zaragoza too and I must say I am a fan, if only because these markets are incredible eye-candy (if you look at the produce, don't ever ever ever approach the seafood section. The smell alone is disgusting)

I visited the Lonja de Mercederes (yes, same word/place as the one from Zaragoza) where silk exchange used to happen long ago. 

Is it just me, or are all the buildings starting to look the same? 

I was determined to see a handful of sights around the city before heading out to the City of Arts and Sciences and/or the beach. Both are quite a ways away from my hostel, so I was planning a route to minimize the amount of public transport I would have to use to see everything. Well somehow between visiting the huge, beautiful train station and walking along Gran Via, I got to the point where I was about halfway to the City of Arts and Sciences anyway... so I decided to keep walking!

The city is majorly awesome. Modern, sleek, overall impressive, with a beautiful park situated right adjacent to it. I got to the city at the prime of the day and promptly sat down to start reading the book I have carried around with me for the entire trip and had yet to start reading: The Hunger Games (more on this later). 

I realized I was pretty close to the beach and I was determined to check out some of the restaurants that line the port which are said to have some of the best paella of the city. And, I can now say I have seen all the coasts in Spain (north, east, south) and, if the bay in Lisbon counts, all the coasts of the Iberian peninsula! 

After a delicious lunch, I got to lounge around on the beach and read for the next 1-2 hours, during which point I got utterly absorbed into the book (I swore I wouldn't let that happen, but it's so good!)

My walk along the beach had taken me much further north than I thought, so retracing my steps back to the hostel wasn't a good idea. Still determined not to fuss over the bus, I walked a new route towards an area of town I am familiar with and from there head home. 

Holy moly did I walk. Like, for hours. Which was pleasant, but all I wanted was to rest my achy feet and read more of my book. By the time I got back to the touristy part of the city, I rewarded myself with another horchata and a farton (picture a long breadstick looking thing, which tasted like the inside of a croissant covered in powdered sugar- yum) and lingered in the horchateria to read a few more chapters of my book. 

Immediately upon arriving at the hostel, I kicked off my shoes and curled up on a coach, laughing out loud (literally) and sighing at every page of the book until I finished it. The question now is how quickly I can locate the second book. Not quick enough. Maybe someone can guide me to an English bookstore here since it is a pretty big city. Otherwise, it looks like I'll have to wait until Monday to hit up some bookstores in Madrid. Darn. 

Overall, this Saturday was simply a perfect day - beautiful views, good food, and the perfect book to get lost in...

Valencia, FTW!

My last leg of the trip began with an obscenely early wake up call and a nice employee at my hostel who let me use the kitchen for breakfast before the official opening time. He must have known he would unleash a terrible, terrible monster if I didn't have my coffee at that hour. Bless his soul.

My train ride was more or less pleasant. I slept in odd positions, as one does when they travel while sitting upright, and I ate a terrible sandwich around lunch time (no sandwich will ever taste like the one's Maria makes for me...) when all I really wanted to eat was a burrito.

My mother and I used to travel to Mexico via charter bus once a year when I was little and I have fond memories of the delicious burritos my mother would prepare before leaving. Even now, whenever we have long road trips, my mom will make at least one burrito or two to take along with us. Oh, if only burritos existed in Spain...

Immediately upon arriving, I realized this is a much more urban city than the others I have visited so far. It has alot of similar elements to Madrid, which were surprisingly comforting to me (i.e. I saw a 100 Montaditos and was thisclose to getting a tinto de verano...maybe tomorrow). Turns out Valencia is the 3rd largest city in Spain after Madrid & Barcelona!

I had some famous Valencia horchata- yum!

Much thicker and sweeter than the horchata I have had before (and to be honest, I prefer the one from Mexico, shhhhh!)

Saw more cathedrals/basilicas/churches and some cool plazas

Awkward fountain in the Plaza of the Virgin jaja

And I got to visit a beautiful museum of fine arts (for freeeeeee). I've decided I appreciate art more when I know something about it.

I see some paella in my future :D

You just never know what you're gonna get

I'm the type of girl who has always had at least 1 sport, a full load of classes, and a job (usually 1 but sometimes more) to juggle at once. It's the type of life that meant I could take a break from one thing by turning to another thing I loved to do. This also meant that I lived religiously according to my day-planner, if I didn't write it down, I would forget all about it.

I like to think that I have slowly relaxed out of that lifestyle (though I'm sure the second I get back to Stanford I will turn to my dear friend once again), which has also equipped me with some think-on-your-toes strategies that have come in handy while traveling, because honestly, you just never know what you're gonna get.

This is the bus I was supposed to take... but that wasn't really where I wanted to go....

Take my night in Bilbao, for example. After the unexpected rain of the day and feeling under the weather (no pun intended) for most of the night, I witnessed some of the strangest nighttime habits I have ever seen thanks to my hostel roommates.

I was staying in a 6-bed mixed room. This means that up to 6 people, men and/or women, can share a room, though sometimes during the travel off season it can be just 1 or 2 people per room. (My hostel room in San Sebastian was TINY and meant for 6 people as well, but thankfully I got the room to myself!). I also quickly realized that my hostel was not a youth hostel, which generally restricts occupants to be between 18-35 years old, but rather just a hostel for all ages. My room had 4 or 5 occupants- I'm not really sure- myself, a German woman older than myself, an older man, and a younger male around my age, and perhaps another unknown person around my age. I do know there were 5 people ASSIGNED to my room because 5 of the 6 beds had linens on them. The German woman, the older man, and I went to bed at around the same time and so got a chance to chat briefly about our travels.

This is when it gets weird. An hour or two after going to bed, another person enters the room and, I assume, goes to bed because not long after someone begins to snore. Since I have yet to have actually fallen asleep, I can hear them alternate between snoring and trying to strangely clear their throat over and over again (not conducive to sleep, in case you were wondering). The door opens again and someone gets into the shower. Soon after, I hear someone climbing into the top bunk of the bed opposite of mine. The snoring stops - or else I just fell asleep for a while - then I hear someone EXIT the room at about 4 or 5 in the morning. There is no snoring at this point, so I think it may have been the snorer who left, but in reality I have no idea. When I wake up at 7:30am (I had an early bus to catch), there are still only the 3 of us who went to bed around the same time in the room.

Who were those mystery people and why did they not sleep the entire night in the room? Who knows.

When I arrived to Zaragoza, I was eager to get the chance to stretch my legs from the bus ride. I wasn't really  paying attention to where I was walking, so I inadvertently walked for 30 minutes (instead of 10) to get to my hostel. The hostel is really great! Free wifi, free breakfast, very clean, with really awesome security, and literally 10 minutes away from all the things there are to see in Zaragoza.

I visited the Basilica of our Lady of Pilar - which is absolutely breathtaking on the inside. It was not just your ordinary basilica, slightly understated but beautiful at the same time. I loved it.

I also payed 4 euros to visit La Seo, which everyone says is a hidden gem just down the street from the basilica that people forget about. Well, I can see why. It was beautifully decorated inside, but honestly, it was just another fancy church. Much more elaborate than the basilica, but lacking all the charm that could make it truly beautiful. There was no need to pay 4 euros to see it. Oh, but you get to see a tapestry museum that's attached to it. I sure do love me some tapestries (read: sarcasm).

But then, I stumbled upon the real gem of the city- La Lonja. The building itself is so discrete, I didn't take a picture of it when I first saw it. I also giggle a little bit whenever I see or say this word because in Mexico "lonja" means gut. Like the roll of fat that appears at the front of your stomach when you sit down. But this place was far from the unappealing site that is a roll of fat, it is in fact an exhibition hall which, at this moment, houses photographs taken by Francesc Catalá-Roca, a Spanish photographer from the 20th century.

The photographs capture moments in daily life, both rural and urban, all throughout Spain. It's hard to articulate the magic this exhibition exuded, but it expressed all the charm and life that I have gotten to live in my stay in Spain. This was by far my favorite sight in Zaragoza- and this place was free!! Who says you get what you pay for? Oh wait, that was me (more on this later).

When I was planning this trip, one of the staff members at the institute asked me "pero mujer, ¿porque vas a Zaragoza? Si no hay nada que ver alli" -Translation: woman, why are you going to Zaragoza?? There's nothing to see there- but I am glad I was able to make it out here, you never know where the real charm of a city is hidden.

But my adventure continues- Valencia for the weekend!! Looking forward to paella, fresh fruit, and more beach time <3

Getting caught in the rain

My luck for the week seems to have run out. Though the forecast predicted rain for pretty much every day I spent in San Sebastian, there was only one day that it rained in the early morning but then cleared up by 9:30am. I arrived a bit early to my hostel in Bilbao so I ventured out to explore the city and decided to take my chances with the rain clouds.

Bad choice.

I managed to make it all the way across the city to see the various neighborhoods and some of the cool monuments.

The Guggenheim museum was confusing, but interesting. I'm just not cut out for contemporary art. I also was a bit surprised at how small it was, but I guess after exploring the gargantuan museum which is the Prado, everything looks small in comparison.

About 45 minutes into my walk back to my hostel, it starts to rain. It was pretty warm out despite the rain (about 12 degrees celsius), but I would have much rather have had an umbrella to keep me dry. I would have broken into a jog to reach my hostel faster if my feet weren't still angry from all the walking in inappropriate foot attireI have been doing. (Lord knows I should be running since I have a race to train for, eek!)

I really like Bilbao- it is very different from San Sebastian in that it is much more modern and much more urban, but it has hidden gems as you walk through the neighborhoods. I am also officially halfway through my spring break trip, I can hardly believe that so much time has gone by already! I may or may not be counting down the days to my trip to Barcelona <3

Doing Basque the French way

Today I went to France! Seriously though... I visited a border French town called Hendaye. Hendaye is part of the French Basque country, so there was this odd mix of Spanish and French feel to it. Also- fun fact- Euskera, the Basque language, is the only language spoken in Spain that cannot be traced back to its linguistic origin!

I explored around the port,

found a monument for victims of war,

and ate an eclair because I felt it was an appropriate part of the cultural experience ;)

I went back to San Sebastian a couple hours later and explored some other parts of the city that I hadn't seen yet. I briefly considered visiting the Museum of San Telmo but then convinced myself I needed to save those 3 euros for more pintxos. I have a list of about 5 or 6 best pintxos places here in San Sebastian, with 2 that have been said the be THE best around. I started my trip with some of the "less good" places (which were still pretty good!) on Sunday, and then decided to try one of the places that my friends have drooled over during their visits last night. The plan was to visit La Cuchara de San Telmo or A Fuego Negro (realistically, I could only go to one per night because they are quite pricey).

I went to A Fuego Negro first only to sadly realize they were closed on Mondays. Luckily for me, La Cuchara was just down the street - or so I thought. I literally spent 20 minutes walking back and forth a stretch of street that is no longer than 200 meters or so. I couldn't remember the number of the restaurant, but I figured it couldn't be too hard to find; I kept looking for the iconic spoon sign but after 20 minutes I gave up. (I found it today and I am convinced it was not open because the spoon sign is quite visible and I do not remember seeing it on my walk yesterday).

Today, I was determined to be successful. I walked up and down the street earlier in the day until I found the restaurant. It was closed, of course, since it was so early in the day, but I could almost taste the delicious food as I walked away, grinning to myself about my spotted treasure.

I came around to La Cuchara 8pm and saw the doors were open and lights were on inside- but the shades over the door were down. Hmph. I thought that maybe I came to early, but I was pretty sure I had checked the dining schedule correctly. Another much less patient man came by shortly after me and poked his head in through the kitchen door to ask if they were open. Turns out they were closed for maintenance repairs and would be open tomorrow.

Grrr. All I needed now was for A Fuego Negro to be closed... thankfully, it wasn't! The kitchen opened right at 8pm and filled up fast. My eyes were wide as I watched different dishes being served to all the people in the restaurant, eagerly crowded around the bar. The food was much more expensive than at the other places, but also was much more varied. Truly a gourmet kitchen in miniature.

Tomorrow I leave San Sebastian to go to Bilbao, where unfortunately I will spend much less time and will eat much less. My taste buds thank the Basque country for its generosity and my heart leaves much stronger than before (that's how wine works, right?), though my feet will probably continue screaming at me for a day or so.

On to the next stop!

Mountains, beaches, & wine

This morning I woke up to rain on my window (booo). Disappointed in the dreary weather, I stumbled over to the hostel kitchen to enjoy some (lots) free coffee as a way to arm myself for the day. I soon met another American girl who is studying in a small town north of Madrid who also decided to spend some vacation time in San Sebastian. (I love making friends).

As soon as we stepped outside, lo and behold, the clouds had parted and the sun reappeared! We had a small adventure getting to the bus station where we both bought our bus tickets to Bilbao, but then made it back in time to meet a fellow hostel-stayer for breakfast.

I had high hopes for the day: climb Urgull mountain, break for lunch and siesta, walk the beachside route along San Sebastian's 3 beaches, and then get a drink and prepare myself to attack the pintxos scene again.

I started off strong. The 35ish minute walk from Zurriola beach around to La Concha beach was cool and pleasant (1 beach down). Urgull mountain (aka Jesus hill) certainly was a trek but the sights filled my heart with joy.

These pictures just don't do it justice!

I took a break and headed to town for lunch, but first headed to a bar for a drink, kalimotxo, which is wine & coca-cola. Sounds strange, tastes delicious.

Lunch was a little more work. It seemed like most places had expensive menus-del-dia that didn't include dessert or a drink (ridiculous!), but just when I was going to give up, I found a gem restaurant that had a 10 euro menu with all the goods. To add to my happiness, they served me an entire bottle of wine with my meal (#winning). Needless to say, I had a satisfying lunch that was the perfect prelude to a siesta.

In the afternoon, I finished off the beachside walk along La Concha and Ondarreta.

The walk all the way across and back was long and peaceful, with lots of people walking their dogs, jogging, riding their bikes, or strolling with their children. As I neared my hostel, I realized my feet hurt quite a bit and I stopped to think through all the walking I did throughout the day - roughly 5.5 miles, some of which was on incline climbing up the mountain. I guess my boots actually weren't made for walking.

For now, I'll attend to a sorry little blister on my foot and see what else San Sebastian has to offer!

Tiempo intermedio

I am currently curled up in my hostel bed, nice and cozy, after a day of traveling and sight-seeing on minimal sleep. The past 10 days have been an odd mixture of non-stop work, sight-seeing, partying, goodbye-ing, and packing and I have finally gotten a chance to slow the pace a little to breathe in the crisp, coastal breeze.

My trip into the city was pretty uneventful - the bus ride was long and when I got to San Sebastian, I just hopped onto a city bus and headed to my hostel. The staff is friendly and the location is absolutely wonderful. Coffee & pastries were on the agenda, followed by a stroll through the Old Town, and a mini tour of this region's gastronomic delight: pintxos.

Holy gastronomy! All my friends that have visited San Sebastian have RAVED about the quality of the food, but somehow it just doesn't sink in until you see it and taste it for yourself. Pintxos are basically like gourmet tapas - anything ranging from various types of tortillas, stuffed peppers, fish, ham, and oxtail piled atop a thick slice of bread, enough for about 3 or 4 bites of foodgasmic goodness. What's even more appealing is that they lay them all out on platters all across the bar, so you see tons and tons of pintxos as soon as you look in the door.  Something similar to this:

(not my own picture)

I would love to share photos of what I sampled today, but naturally I had inhaled all of it before I even thought of taking out my camera. I have a list of the best pintxos restaurants and I plan to visit them all before I leave :)

With all this great food and the beach just 2 minutes away, what more could I ask for? There is a museum or two that I could visit, but honestly, winter quarter was filled with intense learning and and a whole lot of museum time (helloooo women in art!) so I will settle for a spring break filled with beautiful views and beach time before heading back for another quarter in Madrid.

#sorryimnotsorry

Winter quarter finals are done, one epic going-away night in Madrid (part II tonight), and after tomorrow, rest & relaxation for the next 10 days.

San Sebastian

Bilbao

Zaragoza

Valencia

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

I am feeling incredibly giddy about the fact that springtime is here and that life, in general, is just plain fantastic.

I happily spent my Sunday lounging around with friends in the sun at parque El Retiro, along with hundreds and hundreds of other Spaniards who are equally as happy to enjoy the sunshine. 

Think of a cat on catnip -

Sooooo good

and that's pretty much what I look like in the sun. Even though I was raised in a desert city with incessant sun (El Paso is the Sun City), Cristina in the spring & summer time is a much nicer and happier version of Cristina in the winter. I can't wait to see what the next few months have in store for me knowing that next quarter will be full of nice weather (and hopefully an equally relaxing course load). 

I am really sad though that the end of a quarter abroad also means that the people I have gotten to know & love over the past 10 weeks will be shipping back to the states. I hardly knew anyone at the start of the program, but it wasn't long at all before I realized these were truly some great people that I have been blessed to get to know. I guess now I can just be that much more excited to get back to Stanford in the fall!

As much as I miss my friends and family from home (spending more and more time with my host mother and really feeling cared for makes me miss my own mother so much!), I have been filled with this incredible sense of happiness. I visited two monuments in the outskirts of the city last week that really made me appreciate life, in a slightly creepy, but overall really fulfilling way. 

This is El Escorial, a monastery designed by King Phillip II which then became the final resting place for all the  Spanish kings and queens in history. You get to tour the different parts of the monastery and see the actual tombs of all the royal families in the crypt! 

This is El valle de los caidos, the valley of the fallen, which is a huge monument erected by Franco to commemorate all the people who died during the Spanish civil war. The sight is captivating and it quite literally takes your breath away to see a monument like this (visible from miles away on the mountainside) and to understand what it stands for. There is alot to be said about the fact that Franco himself is buried here, as well as the sentiment it holds for the Spanish people today. 

These visits sparked all sorts of philosophical and historical questions for me, but I won't bore you with those thoughts here. I will, however, encourage you to watch the video about Your Brain On Love on this site. It's seriously cool. 

60 days of wisdom

While trying to avoid the time and energy that is required of what we call "finals" at the end of each quarter, I realized that today marks the 60th day I have spent in Spain.

Sixty days is a long time. Some people train for half-marathons in that time, some people do cool social experiments like The Naked Face Project. I prefer the let's-do-fun-and-crazy-things-in-Europe type of learning, after all, how often will I get this chance? Here is a brief list of some of the wisdom I have gained while abroad:

• January & February are the months for "rebajas," aka really amazing shopping deals
• Not being afraid to barter in Spanish will generally get you better service at clubs
• Chocolate & churros taste better after a night out dancing 
• Throw that day-planner out the window (figuratively, or I guess literally if you want) because really, there is no use for it here
• Siesta time is real. Take advantage of it. 
• Eating at an Asian food buffet with your friends will inevitably get you judgmental stares from all the Spaniards around you
• Brie cheese is fantastic. Ham is pretty tasty too. Brie + ham in a bocadillo = baaadddd choice
• Boys (and men) will try to make out with you on the dance floor 2.7 seconds after you start dancing. Do so at your own discretion. 
• People don't wear gym clothes in public for any reason. (Not sure how that works for people who actually go to the gym- I have seen a handful of men in gym clothes and only 1 woman, who I am sure was American anyway)
• American carry-on luggage is NOT the same (size) as European carry-on luggage

I had tons of good tidbits of wisdom to share but somehow only managed to come up with these mostly-interesting ones as I sat down to write. 

Also! Spotted this weekend on one of my walks through the city: 

Holla California!!