Whetting the appetite

I’ve never really had much of a desire to travel to Eastern Europe…until now.

My best girlfriends and I have a few running jokes about how absurd ours lives are over here: It’s tough being a rock star. My life is so hard. It’s just exhausting when you have to travel this much. Etc, etc, etc. We say things like this because, in reality, we know just how lucky we are to have such an awesome opportunity. As evident of all my spring craziness, I’ve had a substantial amount of reasons to be aware of the beauty of living in Europe… and this past weekend was no exception.

Last Friday afternoon, SK and I were lying in the grass in Retiro Park, soaking up the sun and catching our breaths after our run. We giggled periodically at the fact that only a few hours later we would be flying to Budapest to meet up with Yadira, Kate, and Shenning who had been there since Wednesday night. Little did I know then that on my three-hour Wizzair flight I would sit next to Hungry’s highest ranking female tennis player Ágnes Szávay, who was returning to her country after playing in the Madrid Open. (Ágnes who? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81gnes_Sz%C3%A1vay) I offered her some chocolate (she declined), and she returned the gesture with her roasted nuts (I declined). We smiled and laughed at the crazy Hungarian man sitting in front of her, whose loud comments and spastic movements provided a distraction and diversion for half the plane. But that was the extent of our interaction.

Despite only having a day and a half in Budapest, I think SK and I got a good look at all the major sights and monuments of the city. We took our own walking tour Saturday morning before we met the other girls for lunch. In almost 4 hours, we saw a lot: the Opera House, Matthias Church, the Hungarian Parliament, the Danube River, the Chain Bridge, the Fishermen’s Bastion, Buda Castle/The Royal Palace, and the Dohány Street Synagogue. For more info, history, and visuals, you can check out http://cityguide.budapestrooms.com/sights/.

On the right: A view of Parliament from across the Danube River

Below: SK & I on the Chain Bridge (the oldest in Budapest)

Above: Looking at Pest from Buda

Below: The girls at Menza, a great restaurant where I ate Hungarian beef stew

Saturday afternoon, all of us walked to City Park and spent a few glorious hours at Széchenyi Bath, Budapest’s largest thermal bath. Our experience in the underground labyrinth of changing rooms, where complete nudity is no biggie, was regrettably memorable. And even though people outside at the baths were not completely nude, some bathing suits left little for the imagination. Despite those distractions, the baths were a welcomed relief to my aching muscles after the morning’s hike around town. The beautiful neo-baroque architecture set an atmosphere of indulged luxury, and the only thing that was missing from this picture of paradise was my personal masseuse.


Budapest is known for its nightlife, but I must say, I had no desire to take part in that scene the one night I could have done so. Since I was completely whipped from the day’s events (which included swimming laps), I didn’t have enough energy to truly enjoy the two cool bars we went to on Saturday night. Had I not been ridiculously exhausted, I would have wanted to listen to the funky live jazz show at Bar 1 a little longer and I would have wanted to sit in every old bathtub-sofa or antique car seat at Bar 2. But all I could think about was sleep. Boy, am I getting old! (Joke.)


SK & I toured the Dohány Street Synagogue Sunday morning (as shown above). I realized there that this was the first city or country that I have ever visited where the Jewish community would have been directly and vastly impacted by the Second World War and that this was the first time I’ve ever walked the same streets as those persecuted Jews. Fortunately for the Budapest Jews, many lives were saved through the help of neutral country ambassadors. However, others were not as lucky and memorials—such as these shoes left along the banks of the Danube—silently remind visitors of the tragedies.


Through my brief experience in Budapest, I can see how Eastern Europe is sweetly distinct from anything I’ve ever known. Now the taste of that sweetness has created a new appetite for discovering more about that part of the world. I think I’ll have to make another visit soon.

A Change of Pace

Before I even moved to Spain last September, I knew that each region of the country was particular and distinct. Throughout my fall, winter, and early spring travels, I experienced that text book and word-of-mouth knowledge for myself as I explored the regions of Andalucía, Castilla y León, Castilla-La Mancha, the Basque Country, the Balearic Islands and Catalonia. Each place I visited in each region offered something different, as my past accounts have illustrated. This past weekend, I once again discovered the amazing beauty and diversity of Spain when I went to the most northwestern province in the country—Galicia.

It was hard to believe that I was in Spain at all this weekend. Galicia is fertile, green, lush, humid, wet, and everything that is not central Spain. The landscape, the cool weather, and the musical trills of the bagpipe gave the impression that I might as well be in Great Britain! SK, Yadira, Kate and I flew to Santiago de Compostela on Friday morning. Santiago de Compostela has one of the most interesting histories of all Spanish towns. Supposedly, it is the final resting place of St. James the Apostle, whose body was transported in a stone boat to northwestern Spain and then entombed some miles inland. That was around 44 A.D. Then, around 813 A.D., a star-guided hermit rediscovered the long-forgotten grave. Once the word was out, and cathedral and altar were erected, and Santiago de Compostela became one of the most famous pilgrimage sites in the modern world.

Fortunately for us and our weekend priorities, there isn’t a whole lot to do in SdC. It’s a small, quaint town, where the locals are friendly and the visitors are aplenty. Throughout the weekend, the girls and I enjoyed simply wandering through the old streets at a leisurely pace. We intentionally slowed our steps to a new rhythm, one that matched the haunting melodies of the bagpipers playing near the cathedral or the sweet symphonies played by a 4-string quartet. Each of us have been on the go for so long that we mutually decided to relax and unwind... and Galicia was the perfect setting for this mindset.

It was a perfectly relaxing and pleasant weekend, made even better by the discovery of how delicious and cheap Galician food is. I was happy to find out that Galicia honors the tapas tradition and ecstatic to see that they perhaps to it better than anywhere else in Spain. With one drink, we would be served either a bowl of seafood-stew or a plate of meats, cheese, & bread, or a tray of assorted Galician specialties. Needless to say, we were all happy campers. In addition to the great food, the unbeatable price, the lovely atmosphere, whenever we walked down "Sample Street" (as I like to call it), we were enticed to enter several speciality Galician produce shops, where we tried all the special foods of the region: tarta de Santiago, caprichos de Santiago, queso tetilla, chocolate bits and after-dinner drinks. Amazing.

On Saturday, we took a short day-trip to A Coruña, the most important port city in the region that sits on the northern shore. The coast was breathtakingly beautiful: raw, natural, refreshing and unaffected by the presence of man. The ocean waves crashed relentlessly upon the giant boulders that formed the frontline in the battle against sea and land. Various types of wildflowers colored the grassy meadow, protected from the powerful swells and nourished by the rising moisture.

On the other side of A Coruña sits a charming harbor, where passersby stroll between the bright formation of boats and the particularly glassy architectural skyline. As a port city, A Coruña has a more laid back feel than most. I only wish I had had more time there!

In Galicia, Spanish shares Official Language status with Gallego, which sounds like a blend of Portuguese and Castilian (or Spanish-Spanish). The Galician people were so nice, and we didn’t encounter any rudeness or bluntness that we come across far too often in other parts of the country (and especially in Madrid). On Sunday, SK, Yadira, and I went to the Museum of the Galician People, and it was fascinating to see their history as a people. They are a people who have a Celtic heritage, have lived predominantly off the sea, and who have preserved many of their precious traditions throughout the centuries. Fascinating and enchanting.

Whether you believe that St. James currently resides in the ancient cathedral crypt or not, you can not deny the beauty of the Camino—the pilgrimage—that hundreds of people from all over the world trek across daily. Although a bit worn and weary, they march into town triumphantly carrying their packs until they reach the main plaza in front of the cathedral. Some fall down on their faces in relief. Some cheer and yell in excitement. Others cry tears of joy and gratitude. Any place that has such an effect on other people will certainly leave you feeling a little different, too.

Mom & Dad Visit Spain

April has been a whirlwind, for many reasons. Literally, Spain’s weather has been nuts this month. The glimmering hope of spring that blossomed in March—with clear blue skies and temperatures soaring into the 70s—was blown away by the chilly April winds, bringing grey clouds and colder temperatures. However, the real whirlwind experience has come from all the traveling, touring, and entertaining that I’ve done this month. Exciting events didn’t stop after spending the first two weeks in Turkey (see previous blog entry & Facebook pics), a great trip that left my head spinning and thinking of all-things-Turkish for days after my departure. Immediately upon my return to Spain, I had just enough time to unpack my suitcase, get some sleep, and teach some kids for half a day before I welcomed my own parents to Madrid!

Mom & Dad got here on Tuesday morning (April 14th). I met up with them for the first time at Hostal Salamanca, the little hostel 3 blocks from my apartment.
I (accidentally) pushed them really hard their first day here, convinced that it's best to truck on through the first day in order to fight jet lag. We had a nice Asturian lunch at Casa Mingo, rode the cable car across Madrid's Casa del Campo, and walked around the central part of town. They were troopers!

I kept my work schedule during the two weeks Mom and Dad were here. Yet, on the weekends, we three traveled together... with the first weekend trip to Sevilla.

My second trip to Sevilla started with a luxurious AVE high-speed train ride that took just over 2 hours, which certainly beat the 7-hour overnight bus ride I took to get there back in October. Mom found a great apartment for rent that was practically on top of the Plaza de Torros, and from our rooftop, we could see into the stables and watch the picadores y matadores before they entered the bull ring. Actually, bull-fighting season began the weekend we were in Sevilla. We debated whether or not we wanted to go to a fight. We took a tour of the Plaza de Torros on Saturday, and we haggled around a bit for tickets. Afterwards, we stopped in a small ticket office to compare options. Thinking we'd found the best deal, I said, "Let's do it." Well, Ticket Man ripped off three tickets and gave them to me. In turn, I handed him Dad's credit card (oh, the advantages of traveling with parents...), but he refrained from swiping the card in order to answer the phone. While, TM was making deals over the phone, I stared up at an enlarged photo on the wall: a matador, with sword in hand, was dodging an enormous beast whose shoulders and flanks were covered in deep-red blood, as a result of the protruding spikes. Staring at this image, I began to imagine what I was about to witness in person and only 50-feet away. These thoughts then triggered my fainting-response, and all of a sudden I began to feel nauseous. I looked at my parents and said, "I don't know if I want to do this anymore." Mom's face gave away her misgivings, too, but Dad just stood there saying, "You decide. I don't care." Just before Ticket Man hung up the phone, I picked up the credit card, which had been sitting at the top of the machine, and I clutched it in my hand. When he got off the phone, I answered his questioning face, "Es que no puedo!" I just can't do it! I tried to explain about my fainting habits, but TM still tried to convince me that it was una cosa muy linda, a very beautiful thing. I said I didn't care if it was or wasn't a very beautiful art; I didn't want to pass out because of it.

Then and there, I decided I am probably never going to see a bull fight. Yes, it's something unique to Spanish heritage, and yes, it may be considered an art. BUT it's only been around since the 1800s (which isn't that long) and it's something I just don't want to witness.

Luckily, Sevilla has more to offer than just bull fights. After the torro-incident, we toured the Alcazar, the Christian palace based off the Moorish designs of Granada's Alhambra. Sevilla is also home to the third largest cathedral in the world, whose bell tower and courtyard are the only remains of the mosque that once stood in its place (see photo above).

The Sevilla Cathedral boasts the world's largest and most extravagant altar piece. It's dripping in gold leaf.

The Cathedral's Treasury is ridiculous. Above you'll see the world's largest pearl... it's the body of the angel, only one adornment of a crown covered in precious gems and minerals. Below, Mom is demonstrating how these large altars are marched throughout the city during Semana Santa.

The Plaza de España

While I reminisced of the previous weekend in Mallorca, Dad revisited his hunting days in Cordoba (But Dad, we're in Spain, not Argentina!).

Next family trip... Barcelona!

We enjoyed our trip to Sevilla, even if we didn't go to a bull fight. We returned to Madrid Sunday evening. Mom and Dad took day trips to Toledo and Segovia, in order to get a taste of old-town and small-town Spain. I met up with them around Madrid after classes, but one afternoon, they made a visit to my school.

Mom and Dad were put in the hot seat when they came to my second grade class for a few minutes one afternoon. The kids practiced asking questions in English, but some of them weren't really thinking when they asked in adorable high voices: "How old are you?" "How long have you been living here?" "How often do you play football?" Regardless of how many times they asked, "Where are you from?", I'm glad that my parents got to meet these loveable terrors of mine.

Walking through Plaza Mayor and "bull-fighting" in Retiro

One of the best things about having my parents visit me was that they got a chance to meet a lot of people that I have been writing or talking about for months now. From teachers and kids to my best friends, Mom and Dad can now put faces with names. One night, Ida, Yadira, and SK came over to have wine and tapas at a nice establishment (restaurant? bar?) on my street, called La Taberna de Jaen.
I spent the second weekend with Mom and Dad in Barcelona. We flew out on Thursday evening, and when we arrived, everyone was carrying roses for St. George's Day. Above is Sir George slaying the dragon. Our hotel was centrally located near La Rambla, the wide promenade that runs from the harbor up into the new city center. Street performers, like this one with Mom, do their best to impress the thousands of people who flow like a river up and down this busy street.

Barcelona has a great market on La Rambla. Every type of fish, shellfish, and domestic animal body part you could ever want is there. Colorful displays of fruits and vegetables spill out of the stalls into the narrow walkways. Tourists and locals alike come to shop around or just look. Of course, we wandered through it more than once throughout the weekend.

Of course, a visit to Barcelona wouldn't be complete without seeing the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's most famous, most significant, and on-going project. I couldn't believe the progress that I saw in just four months since my last visit! It should be completed in approximately 20-30 years. Reunion in Barcelona?

Barcelona is champion of modern architecture, as it was subject to the numerous architects and designers experimenting with the distinct design of Art Neveux in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Today, the construction cranes and towers of La Sagrada Familia serve as constant reminders that Barcelona is still practicing innovative techniques when it comes to eye-catching architecture.

Watch out for those muscles! Mom, Dad, and I had some fantastic meals throughout their visit. I definitely enjoyed a more upscale epicurean experience in those two weeks.

Thanks, Mom & Dad, for treating me to so many great meals.

Barcelona has a lovely beach, but it was quite blustery when we visited. It was a little too chilly for us to hang out on the beach, which I thought was a shame since I miss being near the water. However, my parents weren't in need of much beach time, because as I write this, they are enjoying the beach life in Panama City Beach, Florida, USA.

Both my parents and the month of April have left with the spring winds. Now, it's May. Unbelievable. I have either been traveling or entertaining visitors for the past NINE weeks. This is my blessed weekend off, where I am staying in Madrid, relaxing and resting. I've got three more trips in May (Santiago de Compostela, Budapest, & London), and I've got to get my students prepared for the dreaded Trinity Exams. Does the whirlwind of my experience in Spain ever end? Someday... but I've got a lot of things to do and see before then!