Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. After the Trumpocalypse, I took a break from my online responsibilities and escaped into books and sleep. Now I'm back!
I won't make any more lofty goals, because I can't seem to ever achieve them, haha. I will say that I'll be working on my blog for the next few days, and I'll try to catch up as best I can. I can't promise any pictures, though! They're always a pain because it takes me a while to choose the photos I want to include, and then it takes them forever to load.
Hope y'all are doing well.
Peace and love,
V
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Broken
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
6:00pm Central European Time
Last night was one of the worst of my life. I am nearly certain that the United States of America's decision to elect Donald Trump as President is the most important world event of my lifetime. I am honestly terrified of what the next four years in the United States--the land of the brave, the home of the free--will bring. The sadness, devastation, and betrayal I feel is almost unfathomable.
I cannot understand how so many Americans can support a man whose campaign and actions are founded on hate, bigotry, fear, and ignorance. As my grandmother said this morning, what a black day this is for the world.
Watching Hillary Clinton's concession speech, I began to cry. God, it was beautiful. It shattered me, because it showed me what a stunning president the United States could have had. When she spoke of the ideal that all people--women, men, immigrants, LGBT people, people with disabilities--deserve the exact same opportunities and the exact same chance to achieve their dreams, I mourned the choice that America made. When she said that she was honored to be the champion of young women, I felt that she was speaking directly to me. Her speech gave me hope in humanity, that all people have good in them that they will harness to make the world better, regardless of this election's poor outcome.
Thank you so much for being my champion, Hillary.
6:00pm Central European Time
Last night was one of the worst of my life. I am nearly certain that the United States of America's decision to elect Donald Trump as President is the most important world event of my lifetime. I am honestly terrified of what the next four years in the United States--the land of the brave, the home of the free--will bring. The sadness, devastation, and betrayal I feel is almost unfathomable.
I cannot understand how so many Americans can support a man whose campaign and actions are founded on hate, bigotry, fear, and ignorance. As my grandmother said this morning, what a black day this is for the world.
Watching Hillary Clinton's concession speech, I began to cry. God, it was beautiful. It shattered me, because it showed me what a stunning president the United States could have had. When she spoke of the ideal that all people--women, men, immigrants, LGBT people, people with disabilities--deserve the exact same opportunities and the exact same chance to achieve their dreams, I mourned the choice that America made. When she said that she was honored to be the champion of young women, I felt that she was speaking directly to me. Her speech gave me hope in humanity, that all people have good in them that they will harness to make the world better, regardless of this election's poor outcome.
Thank you so much for being my champion, Hillary.
Monday, November 7, 2016
Tuesday, September 27 - Sunday, October 9, 2016
Yep, I know that I'm about to put a whole bunch of days into one blog, but it's much simpler that way. Later, I'll attach pictures that offer more details about these days, but for now, I'm just going to sum them up.
Olivia and I had a pleasant stay with Paco and Mamen for two nights. In the full day that we stayed with them, Paco took us to a cafe to eat delicious churros dipped in melted chocolate, and later to the center of Barcelona. I didn't remember hardly anything about the city, even though I'd been there about four times, since I was only twelve the last time I went. I was astonished by the architecture at the heart of Barcelona, and Paco told us the history about a few of the buildings.
On Wednesday, September 28, Olivia and I woke up at 5:30am to get ready for our six-hour train ride to Málaga. After a quick breakfast, we said goodbye to Mamen. Meanwhile, always ready to be early for any and all appointment, our great uncle waited downstairs for us. During the car ride, he cracked O and I up as he seriously explained how he could not stand being late. He said that at his job at a Barcelona police station, there was always at least one person would always be 5 minutes late. We arrived at the train station at 7:15, and our train wasn't scheduled to leave until 8:30. We drank cafés con leche, relaxing together. This is a part of the Spanish culture that I love: having café con leche and talking. After that break, in which Olivia and I woke up a bit more, we said a sad goodbye to our incredible great uncle.
The one thing that sticks with me the most from the train ride is an elderly couple. Yup, it sounds weird, but it's true. When Olivia and I were in line to present our train tickets, this elderly couple had a small fight about who had brought "the bag." I honestly do not normally laugh at others like this, but, God, you had to have been there. Olivia and I started laughing our heads at their fierce Spanish argument, then had to cover it up by talking in English, pretending to tell a joke. It didn't help, though, that they ended up being in our same train car, and everytime either of us saw the woman, we started laughing histerically again.
Six hours later (almost on the dot; I highly recommend AVE trains because they're quite puntual), we arrived at the Màlaga train station and were greeted by our grandmother, who we call Abuelita, and her sister, Chary. We took a bus to the town that Abuelita lives in, Alhaurín de la Torre, about 15 minutes in car and 30 minutes in bus from Abuelita had ordered some of the best pollo asado, rotisserie chicken, I've ever had.
The next week and a half passed with rest, relaxation, some boredom, and amazing food cooked up by our chef-status Abuelita (she's not technically a chef, but she could be, and once she cooked a meal for more than a hundred people).
Some highlights:
Celia, Dani, Isabel, and Enrique: These are our neighbors. Celia is 9, and Dani is 15. We met them when we stayed with Abuelita for a month two years ago. They were our only friends. (I know that sounds sad, but it's really not. Though we hung out with fellow teenagers a grand total of two times, I wasn't interested in reaching out to others. I can be kinda socially awkward around people my age; I'm just not a fan of all of the judgement that seems to be an integral part of teenage life wherever you are. I am more interested in having a few very close friends than having many casual ones.). Their parents, Isabel and Enrique, recently separated, which is unfortunate. Isabel is a caring, honest woman who is a true animal lover. Enrique is a kind man with a powerful moral code. This is a wonderful family. Olivia and I hung out with Celia and Dani a bit during this first week and a half, and Isabel comes over almost every morning to talk with Abuelita. Enrique sometimes takes his children on weekend trips, and they often invite us along.
ABC Ropero: Two days after we arrived at Alhaurín, Olivia and I started volunteering at a used clothing store catered toward the impoverished citizens of the town. We decided to volunteer there for three hours every Friday, sorting donated clothes, dusting, and doing various odd jobs. At the ropero, we met some wonderful people: Sarah, the owner, is a British woman who speaks beautiful Spanish; Carla is a Belgian woman who speaks both English and Spanish, and Marie Carmen is a kind Spanish woman who is one of the most warm-hearted people I've met.
Kickboxing class: This is a freaking awesome and free class that Olivia and I started to go to. We took two classes, enjoying the hard workout. I really hope that we'll be able to find a similar class back in the States.
Exercise: Other than kickboxing, I tried to establish some kind of workout schedule. This means that I actually went running!! (I know, it's shocking. I couldn't believe that I had actually done it after I finished my first fifteen-minute time. Yeah, yeah, fifteen might not be long for many, it's a decent amount of time for me.)
The worst and best parts of these first few weeks in Alhaurín: Let's start with the worst, which really wasn't too bad. I found out a bit late in the game that an enormous scholarship application was due October 15. Work time! I worked every day for at least an hour on the application until October 9. Sometimes, I would work on it for four or five hours in one day. But it really wasn't that bad. It was nice to have something to do, to have accomplished something more than reading and watching TV every day. The best: a language interchange program from 7-9pm every Friday. It was started by a Brit whose name is Dave. He is a wonderful person, always cracking jokes (normally self-deprecating ones), chatting, and making everyone feel included. He has the best Spanish accent I've ever heard from a non-native Spanish speaker. I thought he was Spanish the first time we met, when Olivia asked him in Spanish of if he knew anything about the program. When we entered the cafe (which was literally thirty seconds away from Abuelita's house), there were only two other people there, excluding the bartender/waiter. Olivia asked the two men if they knew anything about the program, and they said that they were at the cafe for the same purpose. We introduced ourselves. The man with Dave (whose name I can't remember) is Dutch, and he knows English and was there to practice his Spanish. Dave asked what we were there for, and was surprised to discover that we were American. Soon, we were all talking together in English, Dave with his British accent and the other man with a Dutch lilt to his speech. Other people arrived soon, like Lydia and Ramirez. Lydia is Dave's daughter who is a senior in high school, and she's taking online classes to "get her A-levels," not that I know what that entails. Ramirez, her boyfriend, is an attractive Argentinian guy of her same age. I really enjoyed talking with two Spanish women who were in grad school at the University of Malaga. Victoria and I especially got along well. She was studying to be a history teacher. How cool! We each got great practice, her talking in English and me talking in Spanish. I love these meetings.
Okay, that's all for now. I'm sure that when I add pictures, I'll come up with a heckuva a lot of other things to add.
Olivia and I had a pleasant stay with Paco and Mamen for two nights. In the full day that we stayed with them, Paco took us to a cafe to eat delicious churros dipped in melted chocolate, and later to the center of Barcelona. I didn't remember hardly anything about the city, even though I'd been there about four times, since I was only twelve the last time I went. I was astonished by the architecture at the heart of Barcelona, and Paco told us the history about a few of the buildings.
On Wednesday, September 28, Olivia and I woke up at 5:30am to get ready for our six-hour train ride to Málaga. After a quick breakfast, we said goodbye to Mamen. Meanwhile, always ready to be early for any and all appointment, our great uncle waited downstairs for us. During the car ride, he cracked O and I up as he seriously explained how he could not stand being late. He said that at his job at a Barcelona police station, there was always at least one person would always be 5 minutes late. We arrived at the train station at 7:15, and our train wasn't scheduled to leave until 8:30. We drank cafés con leche, relaxing together. This is a part of the Spanish culture that I love: having café con leche and talking. After that break, in which Olivia and I woke up a bit more, we said a sad goodbye to our incredible great uncle.
The one thing that sticks with me the most from the train ride is an elderly couple. Yup, it sounds weird, but it's true. When Olivia and I were in line to present our train tickets, this elderly couple had a small fight about who had brought "the bag." I honestly do not normally laugh at others like this, but, God, you had to have been there. Olivia and I started laughing our heads at their fierce Spanish argument, then had to cover it up by talking in English, pretending to tell a joke. It didn't help, though, that they ended up being in our same train car, and everytime either of us saw the woman, we started laughing histerically again.
Six hours later (almost on the dot; I highly recommend AVE trains because they're quite puntual), we arrived at the Màlaga train station and were greeted by our grandmother, who we call Abuelita, and her sister, Chary. We took a bus to the town that Abuelita lives in, Alhaurín de la Torre, about 15 minutes in car and 30 minutes in bus from Abuelita had ordered some of the best pollo asado, rotisserie chicken, I've ever had.
The next week and a half passed with rest, relaxation, some boredom, and amazing food cooked up by our chef-status Abuelita (she's not technically a chef, but she could be, and once she cooked a meal for more than a hundred people).
Some highlights:
Celia, Dani, Isabel, and Enrique: These are our neighbors. Celia is 9, and Dani is 15. We met them when we stayed with Abuelita for a month two years ago. They were our only friends. (I know that sounds sad, but it's really not. Though we hung out with fellow teenagers a grand total of two times, I wasn't interested in reaching out to others. I can be kinda socially awkward around people my age; I'm just not a fan of all of the judgement that seems to be an integral part of teenage life wherever you are. I am more interested in having a few very close friends than having many casual ones.). Their parents, Isabel and Enrique, recently separated, which is unfortunate. Isabel is a caring, honest woman who is a true animal lover. Enrique is a kind man with a powerful moral code. This is a wonderful family. Olivia and I hung out with Celia and Dani a bit during this first week and a half, and Isabel comes over almost every morning to talk with Abuelita. Enrique sometimes takes his children on weekend trips, and they often invite us along.
ABC Ropero: Two days after we arrived at Alhaurín, Olivia and I started volunteering at a used clothing store catered toward the impoverished citizens of the town. We decided to volunteer there for three hours every Friday, sorting donated clothes, dusting, and doing various odd jobs. At the ropero, we met some wonderful people: Sarah, the owner, is a British woman who speaks beautiful Spanish; Carla is a Belgian woman who speaks both English and Spanish, and Marie Carmen is a kind Spanish woman who is one of the most warm-hearted people I've met.
Kickboxing class: This is a freaking awesome and free class that Olivia and I started to go to. We took two classes, enjoying the hard workout. I really hope that we'll be able to find a similar class back in the States.
Exercise: Other than kickboxing, I tried to establish some kind of workout schedule. This means that I actually went running!! (I know, it's shocking. I couldn't believe that I had actually done it after I finished my first fifteen-minute time. Yeah, yeah, fifteen might not be long for many, it's a decent amount of time for me.)
The worst and best parts of these first few weeks in Alhaurín: Let's start with the worst, which really wasn't too bad. I found out a bit late in the game that an enormous scholarship application was due October 15. Work time! I worked every day for at least an hour on the application until October 9. Sometimes, I would work on it for four or five hours in one day. But it really wasn't that bad. It was nice to have something to do, to have accomplished something more than reading and watching TV every day. The best: a language interchange program from 7-9pm every Friday. It was started by a Brit whose name is Dave. He is a wonderful person, always cracking jokes (normally self-deprecating ones), chatting, and making everyone feel included. He has the best Spanish accent I've ever heard from a non-native Spanish speaker. I thought he was Spanish the first time we met, when Olivia asked him in Spanish of if he knew anything about the program. When we entered the cafe (which was literally thirty seconds away from Abuelita's house), there were only two other people there, excluding the bartender/waiter. Olivia asked the two men if they knew anything about the program, and they said that they were at the cafe for the same purpose. We introduced ourselves. The man with Dave (whose name I can't remember) is Dutch, and he knows English and was there to practice his Spanish. Dave asked what we were there for, and was surprised to discover that we were American. Soon, we were all talking together in English, Dave with his British accent and the other man with a Dutch lilt to his speech. Other people arrived soon, like Lydia and Ramirez. Lydia is Dave's daughter who is a senior in high school, and she's taking online classes to "get her A-levels," not that I know what that entails. Ramirez, her boyfriend, is an attractive Argentinian guy of her same age. I really enjoyed talking with two Spanish women who were in grad school at the University of Malaga. Victoria and I especially got along well. She was studying to be a history teacher. How cool! We each got great practice, her talking in English and me talking in Spanish. I love these meetings.
Okay, that's all for now. I'm sure that when I add pictures, I'll come up with a heckuva a lot of other things to add.
Monday, September 26, 2016
We woke up and immediately packed and gathered our things into the car. My family and I could not leave without saying goodbye to an enormous old dog who hung around the neighborhood, whom Daddy dubbed "Mama Dog." For the past few days, she had loped up to us as we went to our car, begging to be petted. Of course, we had given her some good loving, and taken pictures, too.
With that, we were on our way to Sabadell, a city near Barcelona where my parents planned to by Olivia and me a tablet. We quickly found a tablet for a decent price and went to Barcelona to see my beloved great-uncle, Paco, again. My family and I met with him in a cafe right next to his apartment building, and Mama and Daddy chatted with him while Olivia and I lugged our stuff up to his apartment. There, we were met by his wife, Mamen, who offered us cookies as my sister and I set our things down in the room we would share for the next two nights.
Olivia and I then headed downstairs to talk more with Paco and our parents. I had café con leche and listened to the interesting conversation. Soon, it was time for us to go. We said goodbye to Paco, and my family and I went to a hotel where Mama and Daddy would stay the night before their flight tomorrow. My parents, Olivia, and I relaxed for about thirty minutes in the hotel room, during which I finished Belong to Me. It was a beautiful book, and it was a good thing that I finished it before my parents left for the US, because Mama had to return the library book when she got back home. I soon realized that my stomach was completely empty and rumbling, so we all headed to a nice restaurant.
We ordered a couple of appetizers first: toasted bread rubbed with tomato and a bowl of mixed olives. I ordered grilled chicken with a side of fries, which was delicious, but I didn't think it could beat the sauteed chicken that Olivia and Daddy had eaten last night :). For dessert, I ordered chocolate lava cake while Olivia ordered blueberry cheesecake, but of course my entire family shared.
Now came the part my entire family had been dreading the entire trip: saying goodbye. Mama and Daddy drove my sister and I to the train station where we would take the train to a stop near Paco's house where he would pick us up. It was sad to say goodbye, knowing that I wouldn't see my parents for another two months. But, after many hugs and kisses, O and I got on the train and headed for Paco and Mamen's apartment.
Here's one thing you need to know about Mamen: she's not the best with directions. She had told us to get off at the wrong stop. Great. So, after Olivia and I had gotten off at that stop and realized the mistake, we waited for thirty minutes for another train to come to take us to the correct stop. When we finally arrived, Paco picked us up and took us to the apartment, where we soon collapsed into bed.
With that, we were on our way to Sabadell, a city near Barcelona where my parents planned to by Olivia and me a tablet. We quickly found a tablet for a decent price and went to Barcelona to see my beloved great-uncle, Paco, again. My family and I met with him in a cafe right next to his apartment building, and Mama and Daddy chatted with him while Olivia and I lugged our stuff up to his apartment. There, we were met by his wife, Mamen, who offered us cookies as my sister and I set our things down in the room we would share for the next two nights.
Olivia and I then headed downstairs to talk more with Paco and our parents. I had café con leche and listened to the interesting conversation. Soon, it was time for us to go. We said goodbye to Paco, and my family and I went to a hotel where Mama and Daddy would stay the night before their flight tomorrow. My parents, Olivia, and I relaxed for about thirty minutes in the hotel room, during which I finished Belong to Me. It was a beautiful book, and it was a good thing that I finished it before my parents left for the US, because Mama had to return the library book when she got back home. I soon realized that my stomach was completely empty and rumbling, so we all headed to a nice restaurant.
We ordered a couple of appetizers first: toasted bread rubbed with tomato and a bowl of mixed olives. I ordered grilled chicken with a side of fries, which was delicious, but I didn't think it could beat the sauteed chicken that Olivia and Daddy had eaten last night :). For dessert, I ordered chocolate lava cake while Olivia ordered blueberry cheesecake, but of course my entire family shared.
Now came the part my entire family had been dreading the entire trip: saying goodbye. Mama and Daddy drove my sister and I to the train station where we would take the train to a stop near Paco's house where he would pick us up. It was sad to say goodbye, knowing that I wouldn't see my parents for another two months. But, after many hugs and kisses, O and I got on the train and headed for Paco and Mamen's apartment.
Here's one thing you need to know about Mamen: she's not the best with directions. She had told us to get off at the wrong stop. Great. So, after Olivia and I had gotten off at that stop and realized the mistake, we waited for thirty minutes for another train to come to take us to the correct stop. When we finally arrived, Paco picked us up and took us to the apartment, where we soon collapsed into bed.
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Today, we went to Escuaín early. Escuaín is the place where the woman at information center in Ordesa had told us to go to find Lammergeiers. It took us about an hour and a half to get to the small town. Throughout the entire ride, I read a book that Mama had recommended to me: Belong to Me by Marisa de los Santos. Wow, what a book. The characters are so well-developed that I came to know them better than my distant friends, and my feelings became intertwined with theirs. I most definitely recommend it.
We stopped at a camping store in the small town of Escuaín and were lucky enough to find two pairs of hiking pants, one for me and one for O; a pack of quality hiking socks, and hiking pants for Daddy. After the successful shopping, we were directed to the hiking trail and overlooks fourteen kilometers away.
An hour later (yep, it took us an hour to drive 14 kilometers, because of the ridiculously curvy, narrow, and unsafe mountain roads), we reached a deserted town. My family and I sat on a stone wall and ate lunch, surrounded by abandoned houses and about 20 stray cats, who we, of course, fed. Soon after, we made our way to the hiking trail that would lead us to two overlooks.
A summary of our hiking/birding adventure of the day: staring at a rock wall for three hours, seeing a Lammergeier, beard and all; and running down a mountain trying to not get struck by lightning in a hailstorm.
Yeah, it was a great adventure. After seeing the Lammergeier, the obligatory screaming obscenities/jumping up and down celebration was interrupted by a loud roar of thunder and a spark of lightning, plus more hail. What is it with hail and the Pyrenees? Maybe us Merritts are cursed. I'm pretty sure that's the closest I've ever come to death, other than choking on a piece of hotdog when I was like 2.
After the adrenaline-filled hiking trip, my poor dad drove us all down the perilous, 14 km mountain road in the hail and rain. We were all really hungry by the time we reached Escuaín again, so we approached a restaurant, dripping wet and huddled down from the thunderstorm. Were we invited in to have a seat and served a lavish feast? Nope. Although another family was there, eating a glorious assortment of food, we were told that the kitchen was now closed. Off to another restaurant, where we were met with the same luck. Oh well. My family and I drove off toward our house in Orós Bajos and stopped at a restaurant in the town nearby. I ordered fried calamares and a salad, while Olivia and Daddy each got sauteed chicken breast and fries. After trying their decadent chicken, I wondered why I never ordered chicken at Spanish restaurants, because I always seemed to envy my family member's dish when they ordered it. Mama ended up getting a splendid salad with mixed greens, walnuts, fruits, balsamic vinegar, and an entire wheel of goat cheese in the middle. Earlier, the waitress had said that the large salads like that one were not being served yet (it was about 6:30 pm), and when Mama had also asked about the Spanish tortilla only to find that they had run out, she said she wouldn't order anything. The young waitress (likely in her early twenties), in beautiful Spanish, said, "No, no, nothing, no," just like a Spanish grandmother. "You want a salad? I'll fix you a salad." Talk about hospitality and a culture where food conquers all!
We stopped at a camping store in the small town of Escuaín and were lucky enough to find two pairs of hiking pants, one for me and one for O; a pack of quality hiking socks, and hiking pants for Daddy. After the successful shopping, we were directed to the hiking trail and overlooks fourteen kilometers away.
An hour later (yep, it took us an hour to drive 14 kilometers, because of the ridiculously curvy, narrow, and unsafe mountain roads), we reached a deserted town. My family and I sat on a stone wall and ate lunch, surrounded by abandoned houses and about 20 stray cats, who we, of course, fed. Soon after, we made our way to the hiking trail that would lead us to two overlooks.
A summary of our hiking/birding adventure of the day: staring at a rock wall for three hours, seeing a Lammergeier, beard and all; and running down a mountain trying to not get struck by lightning in a hailstorm.
Yeah, it was a great adventure. After seeing the Lammergeier, the obligatory screaming obscenities/jumping up and down celebration was interrupted by a loud roar of thunder and a spark of lightning, plus more hail. What is it with hail and the Pyrenees? Maybe us Merritts are cursed. I'm pretty sure that's the closest I've ever come to death, other than choking on a piece of hotdog when I was like 2.
After the adrenaline-filled hiking trip, my poor dad drove us all down the perilous, 14 km mountain road in the hail and rain. We were all really hungry by the time we reached Escuaín again, so we approached a restaurant, dripping wet and huddled down from the thunderstorm. Were we invited in to have a seat and served a lavish feast? Nope. Although another family was there, eating a glorious assortment of food, we were told that the kitchen was now closed. Off to another restaurant, where we were met with the same luck. Oh well. My family and I drove off toward our house in Orós Bajos and stopped at a restaurant in the town nearby. I ordered fried calamares and a salad, while Olivia and Daddy each got sauteed chicken breast and fries. After trying their decadent chicken, I wondered why I never ordered chicken at Spanish restaurants, because I always seemed to envy my family member's dish when they ordered it. Mama ended up getting a splendid salad with mixed greens, walnuts, fruits, balsamic vinegar, and an entire wheel of goat cheese in the middle. Earlier, the waitress had said that the large salads like that one were not being served yet (it was about 6:30 pm), and when Mama had also asked about the Spanish tortilla only to find that they had run out, she said she wouldn't order anything. The young waitress (likely in her early twenties), in beautiful Spanish, said, "No, no, nothing, no," just like a Spanish grandmother. "You want a salad? I'll fix you a salad." Talk about hospitality and a culture where food conquers all!
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Saturday, September 24, 2016
For half of the day, we chilled at the house. In the early afternoon, we went to Jaca. There, we researched where we could go to see Wallcreepers. My family and I then headed to a Wallcreeper destination that seemed promising. It was a place near the town of Siresa, but we could never find the gorge where many people had seen Wallcreepers. On our way to the invisible gorge, we helped out a nice couple that needed a ride, then stopped at a nice area near a river. We looked around, seeing maps of trails, and gazing at the picturesque river. All of the sudden, Olivia spotted a movement on the rocks. It was a DIPPER! A Dipper is an adorable little bird that likes water, thus the river, and that I honestly don't know much about. All I know is that after we saw it, O and I went crazy with joy, and then did what our dad dubbed the "Dipper Skip." After jumping up and down, we skipped down the street. Yay! So, even though we tried and failed to see the Wallcreeper, we did see a great lifer.
We got home pretty late, but we couldn't help but stop by the store to get something to eat. Mama fixed up a tasty dinner of farfalle pasta (called pajaritos in Spanish, since they look like little birds) jamon/white cream sauce with bits of jamon serrano inside. With bread, it was divine. Olivia and I ate chocolate lava cake from the store, all warm and melty in the middle.
We got home pretty late, but we couldn't help but stop by the store to get something to eat. Mama fixed up a tasty dinner of farfalle pasta (called pajaritos in Spanish, since they look like little birds) jamon/white cream sauce with bits of jamon serrano inside. With bread, it was divine. Olivia and I ate chocolate lava cake from the store, all warm and melty in the middle.
Friday, September 23, 2016
We all woke up earlier today to go hiking and birding! (It was 8:30am. Fine, I know that that's not super early, but we're on vacation, okay?) After breakfast and packing a lunch, we drove a couple hours to Ordesa National Park. We stopped at an information center to see if we could find out anything about Wallcreepers or Lammergeiers. For you poor souls who have never heard of these birds, Wallcreepers are freaking awesome birds most closely related to treecreepers and nuthatches. They are quite small, and slate-gray like the rock cliffs at high altitudes on which they crawl to look for tasty insects. Their most stunning feature is the fuchsia-pink color on their wings that they occasionally flash. How amazing, right?!!!! (No, I will absolutely not apologize for getting extremely geeky about a bird. Get used to it :) ) Lammergeiers, who already make awesome-status for their name, are perhaps even more fascinating. They are vultures who live at high altitudes and crack open bones and eat the marrow to sustain themselves. I know, it's jaw-dropping. In Spanish, their name is Quebrantahuesos, which comes from que rompe huesos, or who breaks bones. Pretty cool. They're also known as Bearded Vultures, and they're even bigger than the enormous Griffon Vulture that is common all throughout Spain. One of best ways to distinguish between the Bearded and Griffon Vultures is their tails: Griffons have short, rounded-off tails while Lammergeiers have elongated, notched tails. This feature is very useful when trying to identify the species, since it is often difficult to get a great of vultures' other features because they are often really high and backlit in the sky.
Anyway, while our parents went into the information center, O and I ran over to the end of the parking lot to look at the fuck-ton (there's a long story behind this word, but the gist is that one of Edward's friends, Sam, is absolutely hilarious and he made up this phrase to describe an enormous amount of birds) of Griffon Vultures circling there. There were also about seventy-five swallows of some unknown species fluttering through the air, catching insects. After birding a bit, we went and asked someone at the center about where Wallcreepers and Lammergeiers had been seen recently. We were told that Wallcreepers are extremely hard to see and we would have to rely on luck, which we pretty much already know, but that Lammergeiers were pretty common in a part of Ordesa about an hour and a half away. My family and I decided to leave that trip for another day, and drove a bit further into the park to a parking area for hikers.
Right before the main hiking trail was a small building where two rangers were stationed. We asked about the two birds that O and I wanted to see, and one of the rangers said that his friend had seen two Wallcreepers on one of the trails. He even drew which route to take on a map of the trails. So, time to climb a mountain!
After two hours of rough hiking, in which we saw an adorable salamander in a stream and ate a simple lunch of sandwiches and chips, we reached a bridge near the top of the trail. Near the bridge was a squat, tiny structure that had a sign out front saying, in Spanish, "For emergency use, in case of dangerous weather." My family and I laughed a bit at the small building, then went to the bridge. We took in the gorgeous view of the cold river and awesome (the way the word used to be used) mountain cliffs rising above us. It was a beautiful moment, right after a challenging hike . . . until it started hail. Yep, legit balls of ice falling onto us from the sky. We took a perilously slick path towards the only shelter available. Thank goodness for that tiny building! My family and I did a penguin huddle in there, then sat together against the wall. Daddy and Olivia sat on the outside, with Mama and me sandwiched in the middle. At first, we sat on the left side of the building, but then realized that the wind was hitting from the door-less entrance to the structure. So, we switched sides and sat together, listening to the hail hit the tin roof three feet above our heads. Mama and Olivia read, Daddy journaled, and I stared off into space contentedly. I had not brought my book, unfortunately. About fifteen minutes later, I saw a fellow hiker with a walking stick coming from farther up the trail, standing in the hail/rain. He saw us, all huddled in there, and smiled and said hello. We said hi back, and he was on his way down the trail. Soon, it stopped hailing, then it stopped raining. Daddy, Mama, Olivia, and I continued our hike up the trail.
We climbed up to a beautiful area with a view, and my parents hiked farther up the trail while Olivia and I stayed to scan the cliff walls for Wallcreepers. Soon, we followed Mama and Daddy up the trail and arrived at a place with an indescribably awe-inspiring view. We watched clouds below us rise up, break across the face of a mountain across from us, and join the clouds above our heads. Wow. Though O and I searched for Wallcreepers, we didn't see any. My family and I sat, taking in the landscape in front of us, and suddenly, my sister and noticed a large bird drifting across the sky above us. "That's not a Griffon Vulture," I said. We noticed the size, the notched tail . . . a Lammergeier!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! It was freaking awesome. What a lifer! Unfortunately, soon after that, we heard thunder. Thunder + top of a really high mountain = bad, so we hurried down the trail.
It only took an hour to get to the bottom of the trail, even though the trail was slick due to the rain and hail. We talked a bit with the rangers again, telling them of our adventures and our poor luck with the Wallcreeper.
After driving home, we all took showers and then when to a pizzeria in a nearby town. The town where we are living is so small that it doesn't have a restaurant, but another area about ten minutes away was much more hoppin'. So, we drove over there and ate some of the best pizza we've ever had. Really, Daddy said that he was sending a picture of his to his friend in New York City, because he had never eaten better pizza. We relaxed and ate, plus took advantage of the free WiFi that was available. After that, it was time to go to sleep. What a day.
Anyway, while our parents went into the information center, O and I ran over to the end of the parking lot to look at the fuck-ton (there's a long story behind this word, but the gist is that one of Edward's friends, Sam, is absolutely hilarious and he made up this phrase to describe an enormous amount of birds) of Griffon Vultures circling there. There were also about seventy-five swallows of some unknown species fluttering through the air, catching insects. After birding a bit, we went and asked someone at the center about where Wallcreepers and Lammergeiers had been seen recently. We were told that Wallcreepers are extremely hard to see and we would have to rely on luck, which we pretty much already know, but that Lammergeiers were pretty common in a part of Ordesa about an hour and a half away. My family and I decided to leave that trip for another day, and drove a bit further into the park to a parking area for hikers.
Right before the main hiking trail was a small building where two rangers were stationed. We asked about the two birds that O and I wanted to see, and one of the rangers said that his friend had seen two Wallcreepers on one of the trails. He even drew which route to take on a map of the trails. So, time to climb a mountain!
After two hours of rough hiking, in which we saw an adorable salamander in a stream and ate a simple lunch of sandwiches and chips, we reached a bridge near the top of the trail. Near the bridge was a squat, tiny structure that had a sign out front saying, in Spanish, "For emergency use, in case of dangerous weather." My family and I laughed a bit at the small building, then went to the bridge. We took in the gorgeous view of the cold river and awesome (the way the word used to be used) mountain cliffs rising above us. It was a beautiful moment, right after a challenging hike . . . until it started hail. Yep, legit balls of ice falling onto us from the sky. We took a perilously slick path towards the only shelter available. Thank goodness for that tiny building! My family and I did a penguin huddle in there, then sat together against the wall. Daddy and Olivia sat on the outside, with Mama and me sandwiched in the middle. At first, we sat on the left side of the building, but then realized that the wind was hitting from the door-less entrance to the structure. So, we switched sides and sat together, listening to the hail hit the tin roof three feet above our heads. Mama and Olivia read, Daddy journaled, and I stared off into space contentedly. I had not brought my book, unfortunately. About fifteen minutes later, I saw a fellow hiker with a walking stick coming from farther up the trail, standing in the hail/rain. He saw us, all huddled in there, and smiled and said hello. We said hi back, and he was on his way down the trail. Soon, it stopped hailing, then it stopped raining. Daddy, Mama, Olivia, and I continued our hike up the trail.
We climbed up to a beautiful area with a view, and my parents hiked farther up the trail while Olivia and I stayed to scan the cliff walls for Wallcreepers. Soon, we followed Mama and Daddy up the trail and arrived at a place with an indescribably awe-inspiring view. We watched clouds below us rise up, break across the face of a mountain across from us, and join the clouds above our heads. Wow. Though O and I searched for Wallcreepers, we didn't see any. My family and I sat, taking in the landscape in front of us, and suddenly, my sister and noticed a large bird drifting across the sky above us. "That's not a Griffon Vulture," I said. We noticed the size, the notched tail . . . a Lammergeier!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! It was freaking awesome. What a lifer! Unfortunately, soon after that, we heard thunder. Thunder + top of a really high mountain = bad, so we hurried down the trail.
It only took an hour to get to the bottom of the trail, even though the trail was slick due to the rain and hail. We talked a bit with the rangers again, telling them of our adventures and our poor luck with the Wallcreeper.
After driving home, we all took showers and then when to a pizzeria in a nearby town. The town where we are living is so small that it doesn't have a restaurant, but another area about ten minutes away was much more hoppin'. So, we drove over there and ate some of the best pizza we've ever had. Really, Daddy said that he was sending a picture of his to his friend in New York City, because he had never eaten better pizza. We relaxed and ate, plus took advantage of the free WiFi that was available. After that, it was time to go to sleep. What a day.
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