Backpacking in southern Spain
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I spent the holidays in Barcelona and visited the museums and parks that I had neglected earlier in the semester. The streets were quiet, my favorite grocery store was closed, and I was the only person in the apartment during the days around Christmas, but I spent the time packing my suitcases and backpack.

My six days backpacking in southern Spain started with a flight into Malaga and a bus ride to La Linea. From La Linea I walked across the border (through customs and across and airstrip) to Gibraltar. After shivering in 50 degree Barcelona, the 75 degree coast felt fantastic in December. Although no one was there to let me into my hostel and I had to spend the night in another hotel (and endure a 5am fire alarm), the view from the top of the rock made it all worth it.

The next day, after a full English breakfast at my hotel, I walked back across the border to catch the bus to Seville. There were a few moments of panic when the man at the bus terminal informed me that the word next to my bus translated to “cancelled,” but it ended up arriving on time. On the ride to Sevilla we traveled along the coast, passing windmills and windsurfers and countless places advertising surfing lessons.

Once in Seville, I bought a bus card (plastic, a much better option than Barcelona’s paper cards), and after almost breaking the card reading machine, got off at the correct bus stop. My hostel was very modern (hence the name Urbany Hostel), noisy, and within walking distance of the city center. I grabbed a delicious meal in a restaurant with bull heads on the wall, wandered around the city, and visited a few sights, including the Alcazar (a cheaper, more convenient, and just-as-beautiful version of the Alhambra).

Next, I took the Renfe train to Cordoba and headed into the Jewish Quarter to find my hostel. The streets are narrow and charming, and my hostel was refreshingly peaceful as it was New Year’s Day. Although I had to wait until the following morning to visit the Mezquita, I took in some of the Roman sights and caught up on sleep.

The next day I took a bus to Granada, where the troublesome Alhambra experience began. After catching a bus into the city, the driver told me that the main road was closed because of a festival, but he could drop me off at the nearest stop. I found my hostel, nestled on a narrow street that was covered with vendors of brightly colored clothes and textiles, and checked in. Unfortunately, I forgot I had to pick up my 30-euro Bonobus ticket before the siesta hour from 2-4pm. This meant I also couldn’t pick up my Alhambra ticket, which has to be picked up at least 1 hour before you even plan on entering the Alhambra. Without this ticket, my only option was to return to the Alhambra at night and see if there were any tickets left.

After numerous conversations in person and on the phone with the Alhambra and the tourist information center, I still had a variety of answers ranging from: “sorry you’re out of luck,” “you can’t reschedule tomorrow?” and “sure, come to the ticket office and we will let you in!” (Welcome to Spain.) I was finally denied entrance while in the line at the Alhambra, with the tourist information representative on my cell phone talking to the guard, and I decided to come back at night. Perhaps it was waiting in the cold for 2 hours in line to make sure I got in, only being able to see a few rooms in the dark, or wasting over 50 euros, but in my opinion the Alhambra just isn’t worth all the fuss.

The next morning I left my hostel at 6am and walked to the Renfe station to take a train to Ronda. I enjoyed a fresh orange juice and croissant in the cafe, the only place open in the entire city at 6am, and slept on the train ride. Ronda turned out to be a quiet yet charming little city perched on a cliff. I hiked to the bottom of the cliff, avoided the day-tripping tourists crowding around the churches, and bought a set of spoons from an adorable little old lady in an adorable antique shop. That afternoon, I took a bus back to Malaga, got lost trying to leave the bus statin, and finally found my hostel. I promptly checked my email, bought instant soup and red peppers from the grocery store nearby, and slept peacefully until I had to wake up one last time before dawn.

After arriving back in Barcelona and coming back to my lonely apartment, I repacked my backpack and bought enough food to make a quick lunch. I had already had the experience of lugging my two suitcases onto the metro (to drop them off at my rental agency’s office, which was closed) and then walking back for 30 minutes dragging them behind me, so I was happy to pay 5 euros and take the Aerobus, which drops you off right at the airport terminal. There, the woman at the ticket counter presented me with 4 boarding passes, attached several feet of stickers to my bags, and wished me a happy flight.

I landed in Zurich around 10pm and was directed to sleep in a strange area that resembles a waiting room but is enclosed in glass and guarded by someone who checks your passport. I had a nice row of 5 seats to spend the next 11 hours on, but I also was prepared with an inflatable pillow and the blanket from my bed. I woke up every hour listening to people beg to exchange Euros for Swiss Francs at the vending machines and left as soon as the rest of the airport began to function around 7am. From there, I went to Frankfurt, witnessed the hectic process of getting security approval to go back into the United States, and landed in Philadelphia.

I felt bad for the Philadelphia airport workers who had to deal with the room of at least 1000 people waiting in line to get through customs. Since I had already been in airports for over 30 hours, I collapsed on the floor as the line inched up for the next 30 minutes. After that, the lines stretched around all the hallways and we waited another hour to get through security one last time. I found my flight to Baltimore, exchanged my apartment’s security deposit at a pathetic rate, and shook from exhaustion as I laid in the chairs at the gate and waited for my last flight.

Last but not least, for the happy ending, I arrived in Baltimore safely, hugged my family at my dog, Bear, and celebrated Christmas a little late.

View more of my photos from southern Spain and Gibraltar.

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Hamburg

After finishing classes and exams last week, I went to my roommate’s graduation. She was studying her master’s at a design school in Gracia, a neighborhood that is a few metro stops away. It was a very small and informal ceremony, broadcast on the internet for the 15 student’s families, and afterwards there were tapas and drinks for everyone. After saying goodbye to her and to my other roommates that were leaving before I would come back from Hamburg, I went to Razzmatazz one last time. I got back around 4:30, with just enough time to pack my backpack and catch the 5:45 bus from Barcelona to the airport.

After my flight and another bus ride into Hamburg, I arrived around 1:30 to the first snow I’ve seen this year and shockingly cold weather. At the bus station, I met the friend I was vising and we did a tour of the city. We walked around the Christmas market, which smelled like sweets and a special type of wine that they serve hot, and then saw a few more things before taking the train to his house. It was nice to be with a family around the holidays; they showered me with sweets and we played several rounds of Monopoly.

The next day we went to a museum with a huge collection of miniature models of different places in Europe. They had rooms and rooms filled with trains, boats that traveled on the water, and little figurines of people (including hundreds of Santas in random places). We planned to do more that night, but the cold was almost intolerable, so we took the last bus home and spent the next day playing more board games.

I had to take a 3:00 am bus to catch my 6:00 am flight home, meaning I also didn’t sleep that night. I came back to a warm and rainy Barcelona and slept for about 8 hours, until 9:00 pm. I woke up feeling sick, dizzy, and sweating. On my way back from the bathroom I was so dizzy that I passed out, thinking I was in my room, but I was actually by the front door. I crawled back into my room and slept through the night for another 8 hours. Now I’m feeling better and I’m no longer paranoid about having swine flu.

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Thanksgiving to Final Exams

Thanksgiving

For Thanksgiving, my roommates and I had a traditional meal. We bought a turkey from El Corte Ingles, which is a 7-floor department store with a supermarket in the basement. I made an apple pie and green beans and we also had stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Afterwards, we brought a warm plate of food down to the homeless man who sleeps outside our building.

The Prodigy

I went to a Prodigy concert with a friend that I met when I first arrived in Barcelona. After learning about the Olympics that day in my Barcelona City History class, we went to the concert in a tent that was next to the Olympic Stadium. I’ve never been so exhausted after a concert; the band puts on a great show.

Exams

Exams here are conducted a lot differently than at Richmond. You have to present your university ID card to enter the room and you have to leave all your bags, coats, and books in a corner of the room. You also have to sit separated from the other students and sometimes even in alphabetical order. It was a shock to me how little the students are trusted here because I am used to Richmond’s honor system; it makes me feel like I am in high school again.

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Maracuya

I smelled something familiar in my grocery store the other day: maracuya fruit. It was 1.50 euros per fruit. I bought two. I took them home and smelled them every 10 minutes. I also made all my roommates smell them.

They smell exactly like Ecuador. It’s the smell that you drive through when you’re riding in the back of a truck. It’s the smell that you smell when you come back, exhausted and starving, for lunch, and the only cold thing you can drink happens to be the most delicious juice you’ve ever tasted. I would drink this juice even if I was sick and couldn’t eat for 24 hours, just because it’s so delicious. I would scarf it down just to be among the few people to get seconds, then mix it with water, just to make it last longer.

So, tonight, I cut open one precious maracuya fruit, made a glass of juice, sipped it very slowly, and remembered a lot of good memories.

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Detergent

Last night I was buying detergent at Bon Preu (the grocery store a block away, named “good price”) and I realized I am actually living in this city. I pay rent, I buy things like detergent and eggs, and I can give directions to people in Spanish and English. Later on we walked to Bar Amsterdam and all the Christmas lights in the city were turned on. There are rows of colored lights in weird patterns over the biggest streets (and in some alleys) and they look amazing. You can see them covering the streets all the way to the horizon.

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