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.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
My parents woke O and I up at 10:30, as per our request last night. I read and read my new book--no Wifi or service at this house, so I was able do my favorite activity without thinking about anything else in the world. This book was called After Obsession, a teen book whose story line I really enjoyed. I wouldn't call it a great book--not life-changing or profoundly eye-opening--but a good read.
Mama made an amazing batch of fried potatoes topped with fried eggs and bits of fried chorizo for breakfast. I know, you can't really get better than that. That and some bread, plus fruit (always fruit, gotta be kinda healthy), it was a wonderful meal.
The entire day was pretty awesome. We all read and journaled (not sure if that's actually a word, but you know what I mean) all day. I spent most of the day typing the stories of Manuel and his fellow artist, Miguel, and the histories of their artworks. Being me, I went into such detail that it took me forever, and I wasn't able to do any other much-need journaling.
For dinner, Daddy made a dish similar to the appetizer that he and I had eaten yesterday: a risotto with a tomato sauce and sauteed vegetables. After finishing my book, I went to sleep. Overall, a restful day.
Mama made an amazing batch of fried potatoes topped with fried eggs and bits of fried chorizo for breakfast. I know, you can't really get better than that. That and some bread, plus fruit (always fruit, gotta be kinda healthy), it was a wonderful meal.
The entire day was pretty awesome. We all read and journaled (not sure if that's actually a word, but you know what I mean) all day. I spent most of the day typing the stories of Manuel and his fellow artist, Miguel, and the histories of their artworks. Being me, I went into such detail that it took me forever, and I wasn't able to do any other much-need journaling.
For dinner, Daddy made a dish similar to the appetizer that he and I had eaten yesterday: a risotto with a tomato sauce and sauteed vegetables. After finishing my book, I went to sleep. Overall, a restful day.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Although I had gone to bed at almost midnight the night before, I woke up at 7am today. I went to the benches where my parents had relaxed yesterday and wrote poetry for forty minutes overlooking the silver-etched Bay of Biscay as dawn painted the sky. Mama, Daddy, and Olivia joined me at 7:45 and we watched the sun come up together. The perfect picture was complete with food, of course; my parents had brought cheese sandwiches and bread with nocilla for breakfast. While Mama went back to the hotel to pack up the room, my dad, sister, and I went a walk. Olivia and I walked with our dad to a hidden dirt trail that he had discovered yesterday, and on the way we saw birds! We saw a beautiful gull, the species which I, to this day, do not know. It had a coral-colored billed and feet, with a bit of black marking on its face. Gulls no me dicen mucho (an expression which pretty much means that gulls aren't my cup of tea), but I was actually interested in this unknown species. When we all reached the uphill trail, Daddy went running up it (haha, running up hills? no thanks) while O and I stayed at the beginning of the dirt road and birded. We searched and searched for a bird singing a beautiful and quite loud song. Finally, we found it--a Robin! European Robins are very different than their American counterparts: they are not thrushes like American Robins, although they used be considered such; they are much smaller, have more orangey-red breasts than red, are sexually monomorphic. (That means that you can't tell the difference between the male and female by plumage; American Robins are sexually dimorphic since the males have bolder colors than the females. This is most apparent in their heads, since males have black heads while females' heads are more gray.) So, when Olivia and I saw this lifer species, we did our usual lifer routine that consists of jumping up and down, singing, and screaming obscenities (yes, this is necessary when an exciting lifer is seen).
We had to quickly walk back to the hotel, shower, and get ready to meet Manuel at 9:30am to go to his workshop. I was so excited!
(Sorry to leave y'all hanging like this, but I can't write about the workshop and exhibition yet. I wrote a really long document a few days after Manuel gave us the wonderful tour of his work, and that document is currently in the US. So, I'm gonna wait until I receive it until I describe that part of the day.)
After seeing the awe-inspiring artworks, we went back to the hotel and moved all of our stuff to the car. We parked our car in a busy area, then went to eat lunch at a restaurant. Daddy and I got the same appetizer: risotto with a tomato sauce that was delicious. Honestly, we both agreed that the sauce was reminiscent of that of Spaghettios--shout out to my childhood :)--which was awesome! Mama and Olivia also got the same appetizer, a pea and potato soup. For my meal, I got an artichoke and ham dish, but really I envied Olivia's plate of mouth-watering sauteed chicken breast sprinkled with coarse salt, and fried potatoes on the side. Mama got callos, if I remember correctly, and Daddy just ate a few bites from everyone's plates. For dessert, I got a luscious cheesecake with a blueberry sauce on top, and a raspberry sauce on the side. Olivia got a gypsy cake that reminded Mama of her childhood, and Mama went the healthy route and got freshly cut pineapple.
Once we had stuffed ourselves with a marvelous meal, we walked it off by hiking partway up a mountain overlooking both Getaria and the bay. As we walked, we noticed numerous life-like faces carved in the mountain's rock. Could Manuel have taken his skill directly to the earth of Getaria? After admiring a beautiful view, we turned back without reaching the top. We still had to stop by the beach that we had visited six years ago and then head to the Pyrenees.
My family, being special, took the "scenic" route to the beach. The consisted of climbing atop big-ass concrete blocks half-submerged in the surf, making our way toward the shore from the sea. It was exhilarating, and really fun to do it with my family. Once we reached the shore, I dipped my feet into the sea. Mama wrote "Getaria" on a rock and we all took a picture with it, like we did six years ago. Now, it was off to our rustic house in the Pyrenees!
After finally reaching the house late into the night, the sky ink-black and the stars writing bright stories above us, Olivia and I collapsed into bed while our parents unpacked everything and chatted with the sweet woman who owned the house.
We had to quickly walk back to the hotel, shower, and get ready to meet Manuel at 9:30am to go to his workshop. I was so excited!
(Sorry to leave y'all hanging like this, but I can't write about the workshop and exhibition yet. I wrote a really long document a few days after Manuel gave us the wonderful tour of his work, and that document is currently in the US. So, I'm gonna wait until I receive it until I describe that part of the day.)
After seeing the awe-inspiring artworks, we went back to the hotel and moved all of our stuff to the car. We parked our car in a busy area, then went to eat lunch at a restaurant. Daddy and I got the same appetizer: risotto with a tomato sauce that was delicious. Honestly, we both agreed that the sauce was reminiscent of that of Spaghettios--shout out to my childhood :)--which was awesome! Mama and Olivia also got the same appetizer, a pea and potato soup. For my meal, I got an artichoke and ham dish, but really I envied Olivia's plate of mouth-watering sauteed chicken breast sprinkled with coarse salt, and fried potatoes on the side. Mama got callos, if I remember correctly, and Daddy just ate a few bites from everyone's plates. For dessert, I got a luscious cheesecake with a blueberry sauce on top, and a raspberry sauce on the side. Olivia got a gypsy cake that reminded Mama of her childhood, and Mama went the healthy route and got freshly cut pineapple.
Once we had stuffed ourselves with a marvelous meal, we walked it off by hiking partway up a mountain overlooking both Getaria and the bay. As we walked, we noticed numerous life-like faces carved in the mountain's rock. Could Manuel have taken his skill directly to the earth of Getaria? After admiring a beautiful view, we turned back without reaching the top. We still had to stop by the beach that we had visited six years ago and then head to the Pyrenees.
My family, being special, took the "scenic" route to the beach. The consisted of climbing atop big-ass concrete blocks half-submerged in the surf, making our way toward the shore from the sea. It was exhilarating, and really fun to do it with my family. Once we reached the shore, I dipped my feet into the sea. Mama wrote "Getaria" on a rock and we all took a picture with it, like we did six years ago. Now, it was off to our rustic house in the Pyrenees!
After finally reaching the house late into the night, the sky ink-black and the stars writing bright stories above us, Olivia and I collapsed into bed while our parents unpacked everything and chatted with the sweet woman who owned the house.
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
I woke up late, as did the rest of my family. We all went to find what Daddy was craving for breakfast: fries with fried eggs on top. We eventually found a bar/restaurant (have I mentioned yet that literally every restaurant or café is also a bar?) whose waitress offered to cook us whatever we wanted. We got four servings of fries with fried eggs, and all of them, except for my dad's, also contained jamón serrano. Yum!
After doing a lot of walking around the beautiful town, my dad went back to the same restaurant at which we ate breakfast to journal. Meanwhile, Mama, Olivia, and I found a kitten! God, he/she (I'm going to say it was a boy) was adorable and shy, with one of the loudest meows I've ever heard from a kitten. We spent time with him, giving him bits of ham leftover from breakfast. The poor thing was a bit timid, though, so we were never able to pet him.
Later, Mama and Daddy went and sat on benches overlooking the Bay of Biscay that we had discovered earlier that morning. Olivia went to a café to journal while I chilled in my room, then bought a journal and pen and joined Olivia at the café. I bought a moon-shaped cookie that was half-dipped in chocolate, which was delicious.
Once O and I had joined our parents again, we met one of the best people I have ever had the pleasure to have a conversation with.
Okay, I have to preface this: Last time my family and I were together in Spain, which was six years ago, we visited Getaria for the first time and fell in love with the tiny town. We stayed for a few days, during which we visited an artist's workshop that was right across the street from our hotel. The artist was an amazing sculptor, and while we were there, he was carving himself, complete with curly hair and glasses. This morning, we visited the same workshop, only to find that it was now a store that sold clothing and crafts, and that the artist no longer owned the space. The nice employee offered to call the artist, whom we learned was named Manuel, and said that he was actually already planning to go to the store to set up some of his artworks to sell. So, we said that we could meet him at the store's entrance at five in the afternoon.
Back to the conversation: we met Manuel at the front of the shop at about 5pm. Mama explained that we had come to Getaria six years before, and that the first thing Olivia and I had mentioned when we arrived this trip was that we wanted to see the artist that we saw last time, and we wanted to buy some of his artwork. He was, in a word, delighted to talk to us about his work. He showed us the paintings that he had brought to sell at the shop: incredible seascapes bleeding with color, all of his treasured Getaria from memory. Manuel is from Portugal, and spoke with a pretty thick accent, but he had lived in Getaria since he was in his twenties. I think he's in his mid- to late-sixties, and I could tell how much he was enamored with Getaria. I'll tell you all about his descriptions of his other artworks in the next post, because you will not believe what he offered to do: he offered to show us his workshop, taller, and an exhibition that he had in a town near Getaria. I could not believe it!
After our fantastic conversation with Manuel, we went to eat at the Mayflower restaurant. Kinda weird name, I know, but I have dreamed about the food from this restaurant since we ate lunch there six years ago. Tonight did not disappoint. Unfortunately, we had to wait until 8 to eat, so while we waited, we ate a couple of tapas at a nearby restaurant and started a Jason Statham movie in our parent's hotel room. When we went back at 8:20, we got a few appetizers: calamares, anchovies in vinegar, and, of course, bread. I ordered grilled hake while Mama and Daddy shared grilled sunfish. Olivia got a tuna salad with tomatoes and onion. My grilled hake was mouth-watering, smoky with crispy skin. For dessert, we got cheesecake and chocolate mousse. Our leftover fish we saved for our sweet, loud-mouthed kitten. When Daddy went to give him some of the food, he found that the cat's mom was with him! Yay! The poor thing was probably crying for his mom all day.
We went back to the hotel room to finish the movie. Mama fell asleep, as happens with most movies, and the rest of us couldn't bear to finish it, it was so bad. This was unfortunate, because every other Jason Stathan movie I have watched, I have enjoyed. Bedtime!
After doing a lot of walking around the beautiful town, my dad went back to the same restaurant at which we ate breakfast to journal. Meanwhile, Mama, Olivia, and I found a kitten! God, he/she (I'm going to say it was a boy) was adorable and shy, with one of the loudest meows I've ever heard from a kitten. We spent time with him, giving him bits of ham leftover from breakfast. The poor thing was a bit timid, though, so we were never able to pet him.
Later, Mama and Daddy went and sat on benches overlooking the Bay of Biscay that we had discovered earlier that morning. Olivia went to a café to journal while I chilled in my room, then bought a journal and pen and joined Olivia at the café. I bought a moon-shaped cookie that was half-dipped in chocolate, which was delicious.
Once O and I had joined our parents again, we met one of the best people I have ever had the pleasure to have a conversation with.
Okay, I have to preface this: Last time my family and I were together in Spain, which was six years ago, we visited Getaria for the first time and fell in love with the tiny town. We stayed for a few days, during which we visited an artist's workshop that was right across the street from our hotel. The artist was an amazing sculptor, and while we were there, he was carving himself, complete with curly hair and glasses. This morning, we visited the same workshop, only to find that it was now a store that sold clothing and crafts, and that the artist no longer owned the space. The nice employee offered to call the artist, whom we learned was named Manuel, and said that he was actually already planning to go to the store to set up some of his artworks to sell. So, we said that we could meet him at the store's entrance at five in the afternoon.
Back to the conversation: we met Manuel at the front of the shop at about 5pm. Mama explained that we had come to Getaria six years before, and that the first thing Olivia and I had mentioned when we arrived this trip was that we wanted to see the artist that we saw last time, and we wanted to buy some of his artwork. He was, in a word, delighted to talk to us about his work. He showed us the paintings that he had brought to sell at the shop: incredible seascapes bleeding with color, all of his treasured Getaria from memory. Manuel is from Portugal, and spoke with a pretty thick accent, but he had lived in Getaria since he was in his twenties. I think he's in his mid- to late-sixties, and I could tell how much he was enamored with Getaria. I'll tell you all about his descriptions of his other artworks in the next post, because you will not believe what he offered to do: he offered to show us his workshop, taller, and an exhibition that he had in a town near Getaria. I could not believe it!
After our fantastic conversation with Manuel, we went to eat at the Mayflower restaurant. Kinda weird name, I know, but I have dreamed about the food from this restaurant since we ate lunch there six years ago. Tonight did not disappoint. Unfortunately, we had to wait until 8 to eat, so while we waited, we ate a couple of tapas at a nearby restaurant and started a Jason Statham movie in our parent's hotel room. When we went back at 8:20, we got a few appetizers: calamares, anchovies in vinegar, and, of course, bread. I ordered grilled hake while Mama and Daddy shared grilled sunfish. Olivia got a tuna salad with tomatoes and onion. My grilled hake was mouth-watering, smoky with crispy skin. For dessert, we got cheesecake and chocolate mousse. Our leftover fish we saved for our sweet, loud-mouthed kitten. When Daddy went to give him some of the food, he found that the cat's mom was with him! Yay! The poor thing was probably crying for his mom all day.
We went back to the hotel room to finish the movie. Mama fell asleep, as happens with most movies, and the rest of us couldn't bear to finish it, it was so bad. This was unfortunate, because every other Jason Stathan movie I have watched, I have enjoyed. Bedtime!
Monday, September 19, 2016
I woke up at 7am today to get the United States Embassy in Madrid by 8:30am. We didn't even have time to eat breakfast, so while we waited in line to get into the embassy, I ate a few delicious Maria cookies. We hadn't had time to walk to the embassy, so we had to take a taxi. And here is the wonderful example of the honesty that I have come to expect from so many Spaniards: when we got into one taxi and told the driver where we wanted to go, and he told us in Spanish, "You know that it would be much cheaper to go in a taxi going in the other direction." So we took his selfless advice and went across the street and got into another taxi.
At the embassy, we got special treatment because of our US citizenship. After going through a mini-customs area, waiting for a while, and talking to someone about obtaining new passports, we were able to take pictures to go onto our new documents. Then, Daddy and I had to run to a bank next to the embassy to withdraw the money needed to pay for the passports. It was kinda fun, running to the bank and then running back into the building to pay our dues. When all of that was done, we ended up talking to a family who said that they had gotten robbed at a hotel, and we chatted with a man who has lived in Spain for five years with his Spanish wife. He loves to travel and he gets his passports with extra pages to fit all of his stamps from going to different countries. How cool! Then we talked a bit about politics, mostly discussing how much Donald Trump sucks.
Once we had finished all of our business at the embassy, we finally went to get breakfast. On the way to a café, we took pictures with art sculptures and of beautiful architecture. We ended up eating breakfast really late, at 11:30, and I got café con leche and thick buns called mollete with crispy edging and sweet strawberry jelly. Olivia got the same thing, except with peach jelly, while Mama and Daddy had sandwiches with jamón serrano and cheese.
After breakfast, we did some touristy stuff. We visited Madrid's underground information center about the history of the city as we walked toward the government building with a huge banner across the front: ALL REFUGEES WELCOME. I wish that everyone in the US felt the same way. We also visited the enormous, awe-inspiring national library. Unfortunately, we couldn't go inside because they only took in tour groups on Mondays :(.
We took a taxi the rest of the way to the apartment. Yesterday, my kind family had packed and organized everything while I took a glorious nap. So now, we tried to come up with a plan of what we were going to do with the rest of our time in Spain's capital over food from Pad Thai Wok. I cannot tell you how excited I had been to eat from that restaurant, and the food did not disappoint. We bought four spring rolls--2 veggie and 2 shrimp/spinach--one box of fried rice with vegetables, and one box of thick noodles with veggies. YUM!
Our amazing plan: walk to the Royal Palace, walk back and pack the car, drive to the colossal El Retiro park, and then drive to our next destination, Getaria.
What actually happened: We walked in the completely wrong direction of the palace. After eating mouth-watering desserts at a bakery (O and I got rich chocolate lava cakes that were to die for, and then Daddy, Olivia, and I could simply not resist the cupfuls of sugar cubes at each rustic table, so we each popped a brown sugar cube in our mouths), we walked a bit in what we thought was the right direction. As we strolled, our bellies bursting from all of the food, Mama spotted a cereal bar. Excuse me? No, that wasn't a typo. It was literally a restaurant of my dreams: it served nothing but cereal. Talk about awe-inspiring. We entered and took loads of pictures and gazed at the endless boxes of cereal crowding the walls. There were even frames with stills of movies where cereal was involved, like in "Honey I Shrunk the Kids." But we left without eating a bowl, because Olivia and I were about the explode after those chocolate lava cakes, plus we had a palace to get to. After walking pointlessly in the wrong direction for another fifteen minutes, we had made a day-changing decision. There was not enough time in the day to do all we wanted, so why not just skip the Royal Palace and go eat a bowl of cereal at a Madrileño cereal bar? So, in the least tourist-y action ever done on this trip (which is actually saying a lot), we went back to the cereal bar and ate a $5 bowl of Captain Crunch with Berries and pasteurized whole milk (a rarity in Europe). Daddy, O, and I shared the delicious bowl; Mama doesn't like milk and didn't want any cereal, so she took pictures and videos of us enjoying our bowl. It was so worth missing the Royal Palace.
We ended up not having time for El Retiro, either, so after our grand cereal bar outing, we packed the car and were off to Getaria. In typical Merritt fashion, we got there at about midnight. That's actually an improvement from the last time we visited the enchanting town, when we got there at one in the morning.
At the embassy, we got special treatment because of our US citizenship. After going through a mini-customs area, waiting for a while, and talking to someone about obtaining new passports, we were able to take pictures to go onto our new documents. Then, Daddy and I had to run to a bank next to the embassy to withdraw the money needed to pay for the passports. It was kinda fun, running to the bank and then running back into the building to pay our dues. When all of that was done, we ended up talking to a family who said that they had gotten robbed at a hotel, and we chatted with a man who has lived in Spain for five years with his Spanish wife. He loves to travel and he gets his passports with extra pages to fit all of his stamps from going to different countries. How cool! Then we talked a bit about politics, mostly discussing how much Donald Trump sucks.
Once we had finished all of our business at the embassy, we finally went to get breakfast. On the way to a café, we took pictures with art sculptures and of beautiful architecture. We ended up eating breakfast really late, at 11:30, and I got café con leche and thick buns called mollete with crispy edging and sweet strawberry jelly. Olivia got the same thing, except with peach jelly, while Mama and Daddy had sandwiches with jamón serrano and cheese.
After breakfast, we did some touristy stuff. We visited Madrid's underground information center about the history of the city as we walked toward the government building with a huge banner across the front: ALL REFUGEES WELCOME. I wish that everyone in the US felt the same way. We also visited the enormous, awe-inspiring national library. Unfortunately, we couldn't go inside because they only took in tour groups on Mondays :(.
We took a taxi the rest of the way to the apartment. Yesterday, my kind family had packed and organized everything while I took a glorious nap. So now, we tried to come up with a plan of what we were going to do with the rest of our time in Spain's capital over food from Pad Thai Wok. I cannot tell you how excited I had been to eat from that restaurant, and the food did not disappoint. We bought four spring rolls--2 veggie and 2 shrimp/spinach--one box of fried rice with vegetables, and one box of thick noodles with veggies. YUM!
Our amazing plan: walk to the Royal Palace, walk back and pack the car, drive to the colossal El Retiro park, and then drive to our next destination, Getaria.
What actually happened: We walked in the completely wrong direction of the palace. After eating mouth-watering desserts at a bakery (O and I got rich chocolate lava cakes that were to die for, and then Daddy, Olivia, and I could simply not resist the cupfuls of sugar cubes at each rustic table, so we each popped a brown sugar cube in our mouths), we walked a bit in what we thought was the right direction. As we strolled, our bellies bursting from all of the food, Mama spotted a cereal bar. Excuse me? No, that wasn't a typo. It was literally a restaurant of my dreams: it served nothing but cereal. Talk about awe-inspiring. We entered and took loads of pictures and gazed at the endless boxes of cereal crowding the walls. There were even frames with stills of movies where cereal was involved, like in "Honey I Shrunk the Kids." But we left without eating a bowl, because Olivia and I were about the explode after those chocolate lava cakes, plus we had a palace to get to. After walking pointlessly in the wrong direction for another fifteen minutes, we had made a day-changing decision. There was not enough time in the day to do all we wanted, so why not just skip the Royal Palace and go eat a bowl of cereal at a Madrileño cereal bar? So, in the least tourist-y action ever done on this trip (which is actually saying a lot), we went back to the cereal bar and ate a $5 bowl of Captain Crunch with Berries and pasteurized whole milk (a rarity in Europe). Daddy, O, and I shared the delicious bowl; Mama doesn't like milk and didn't want any cereal, so she took pictures and videos of us enjoying our bowl. It was so worth missing the Royal Palace.
We ended up not having time for El Retiro, either, so after our grand cereal bar outing, we packed the car and were off to Getaria. In typical Merritt fashion, we got there at about midnight. That's actually an improvement from the last time we visited the enchanting town, when we got there at one in the morning.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Today we went to El Rastro, Madrid's famous and huge mercadillo that always attracts many tourists. My family and I took the metro, which was a fun adventure, and once we arrived, it was easy to spot El Rastro. In front of where the long line of booths began was a street band jamming out. One of my favorite things about cities are these spontaneous joys like a group of people making beautiful music in the midst of grimy streets and delicious café aromas. After watching the band a bit and giving them a few euros, we went into El Rastro. Olivia bought a beautiful, flowing blouse that looked like stained glass and a flower ring. We each got a great leather jacket and a nice backpack. I got a Don Quijote t-shirt and Mama bought a cute decorative mug to hold pencils and pens, plus a poster of flamenco dancer. The crafter of the mug was very kind, and he's been selling his crafts at El Rastro for forty years! During our time at the large mercadillo, we saw another street band, larger than the first and just as talented.
After eating lunch, we walked many blocks to the Museo de la Reina Sofia. As we strolled toward the art museum, we came upon art in the city streets: a sculpture in honor of four lawyers and a paralegal who were assassinated in Madrid on January 24, 1977 by people in a far-right political group.
The museum had an astonishing glass elevator that we were able go into to take us to the third floor. We were only allowed to go into the first and third floors. The first floor had many interesting pieces but I enjoyed the third floor the most. The third floor focused on the history of Spain--of it's time under the dictatorship of Francisco Franco. Before entering any room filled with paintings, drawings, poems, and sculptures was an explanation of the political and social situation of the time period in which those artworks were created. Artists conveyed their grief at their country's state, persecuted and even exiled to Russia, Argentina, France, and other places far from their homeland. One Spanish artist painted a Russian town in somber colors, missing the country he grew up in. Some borrowed from Picasso's works, though he was living in Paris, having promised to never return to Spain until Franco's rule was over. In one room there were at least a dozen paintings by Salvador Dalí. My favorite was "The Invisible Man," showing a cityscape that almost completely concealed a man stretched across the painting vertically. It was fascinating to try to discover every part of the man, and I didn't even realize until Mama told me later that his hand was made up of a desperate family clinging to each other in the bottom right of the frame.
After enjoying the art museum, we went to see a different kind of art: a vertical garden over a hundred feet tall. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, because it was spectacular. Olivia fell in love with it, due to her passion for plants.
I fell in love later when, after we had walked most of the way back to our apartment, we stopped to buy mini churros. These bite-sized churros were covered in sugar and drenched in warm, melted chocolate. God, my mouth is watering just writing about them!
After eating leftovers for dinner, we all talked and read, then went to sleep.
After eating lunch, we walked many blocks to the Museo de la Reina Sofia. As we strolled toward the art museum, we came upon art in the city streets: a sculpture in honor of four lawyers and a paralegal who were assassinated in Madrid on January 24, 1977 by people in a far-right political group.
The museum had an astonishing glass elevator that we were able go into to take us to the third floor. We were only allowed to go into the first and third floors. The first floor had many interesting pieces but I enjoyed the third floor the most. The third floor focused on the history of Spain--of it's time under the dictatorship of Francisco Franco. Before entering any room filled with paintings, drawings, poems, and sculptures was an explanation of the political and social situation of the time period in which those artworks were created. Artists conveyed their grief at their country's state, persecuted and even exiled to Russia, Argentina, France, and other places far from their homeland. One Spanish artist painted a Russian town in somber colors, missing the country he grew up in. Some borrowed from Picasso's works, though he was living in Paris, having promised to never return to Spain until Franco's rule was over. In one room there were at least a dozen paintings by Salvador Dalí. My favorite was "The Invisible Man," showing a cityscape that almost completely concealed a man stretched across the painting vertically. It was fascinating to try to discover every part of the man, and I didn't even realize until Mama told me later that his hand was made up of a desperate family clinging to each other in the bottom right of the frame.
After enjoying the art museum, we went to see a different kind of art: a vertical garden over a hundred feet tall. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, because it was spectacular. Olivia fell in love with it, due to her passion for plants.
I fell in love later when, after we had walked most of the way back to our apartment, we stopped to buy mini churros. These bite-sized churros were covered in sugar and drenched in warm, melted chocolate. God, my mouth is watering just writing about them!
After eating leftovers for dinner, we all talked and read, then went to sleep.
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Saturday, September 17, 2016
My family and I woke up in Madrid today. I could not believe that I woke up in the capital of Spain! Breakfast was cereal, bread with nocilla, and fried egg. Soon, we were up and at'em to Puerta del Sol, a busy shopping area of the city. Olivia bought a pair of black and white shoes that were suitable to day-to-day life. We passed a guy sitting with a chair across from him, a sign next to him saying, "Look into my eyes." There was a woman doing just that across from him. Walking a bit more, marveling at the beautiful buildings, we stopped to look in a sale Corte Ingles store. Olivia and I bought two pairs of nice pants and a pair of shorts, and Daddy bought a shirt.
For lunch, we went to an Indian restaurant. Mama got the best falafel I've ever tasted, and Daddy and her shared hummus and pita. Olivia and I split a huge bowl of delicious rice with chicken, heavy spices, and yogurt. Once we had finished eating, we went to a bookstore. Yay! The bookstore was called Casa Libro, and it was bigger than the Barnes and Noble in Triangle Town Center, which means it was huge. We all immediately went downstairs (the bookstore had three floors), which was where all of the foreign language books were housed. I scanned the titles and took a couple of pictures of the covers of books I liked. (These books were pretty expensive--and I'm cheap--so I normally take photos of books I want to read and then get them free at the library, or, if I really want to own the book, I go to the all-holy Reader's Corner or Edward McKay's.) I picked up a book that contained three plays written by Sarah Kane. I randomly flipped to one and was sucked in for about ten minutes, until we had to leave. With absolute certainty, I can say that the small part of that profound play was the most disturbing thing I have ever read. Maybe one day I'll finish reading it.
We then went back to the charming apartment. During our walk, I realized how liberal and open-minded Madrid seemed to be. On various walls, I saw rainbow-colored advertisements for "Gay Day" on September 24. Man, what a shame we would be out of the beautiful city by then! I also saw, on a huge electronic billboard on one of the main streets of central Madrid, Gran Vía, a colorful picture of two women with long, flowing hair kissing. I was very happy to see such progressive ideas proliferating the city.
We chilled in the apartment (you guessed it, I was reading), and after a while we decided to go out to eat. It was about 8pm, so still early for Spanish dinnertime, but we ended up not sitting down at a restaurant until thirty minutes later because of a great conversation Mama, Olivia, and I had with one of our apartment building neighbors. The elderly woman lived on the third floor, and we on the fourth (which would be considered the fifth floor in the US, because in Spain what we call the first floor is the zero floor). Her son worked at the Thai restaurant across the street and had a dog that they both adored. The woman had just finished walking the dog, who was now whining because her son was outside the restaurant and the sweet doggie wanted to be with him. Our neighbor was very sweet, and after talking with her for a while, we discovered that she hosted students from Chicago who were studying abroad at the University of Madrid. She said that she had to cook them one meal a day and do their laundry. How cool is that?
Dinner was incredible. For appetizers, we got anchovies in vinegar and fried calamares. Daddy got tomatoes with crispy-edged mozzarella melted on top on a bed of rich olive oil and herbs. I got potatoes covered in a fried egg, thick slabs of smoked salmon, and tender twirls of sautéed shrimp. Olivia got one of the best things I've ever eaten in my life: fried brie fresh raspberry and peach jelly to dip the cheese into. Oh my god. Incredible. Mama got gamba alajillo, which is a garlicky shrimp dish perfect for dipping bread into. Only O and I got dessert, and we got pretty much the same thing: a chocolate pastry covered in cold ice cream and fresh sweet cream. While Olivia ordered the chocolate fondant (which I totally should have gotten, it's literally a chocolate lava cake), I got the chocolate brownie for the bottom part of the dessert. Yum.
After the fantastic dinner--really, I would rate it one of the best dinners yet in Spain--we walked sleepily back to the apartment and went to bed.
For lunch, we went to an Indian restaurant. Mama got the best falafel I've ever tasted, and Daddy and her shared hummus and pita. Olivia and I split a huge bowl of delicious rice with chicken, heavy spices, and yogurt. Once we had finished eating, we went to a bookstore. Yay! The bookstore was called Casa Libro, and it was bigger than the Barnes and Noble in Triangle Town Center, which means it was huge. We all immediately went downstairs (the bookstore had three floors), which was where all of the foreign language books were housed. I scanned the titles and took a couple of pictures of the covers of books I liked. (These books were pretty expensive--and I'm cheap--so I normally take photos of books I want to read and then get them free at the library, or, if I really want to own the book, I go to the all-holy Reader's Corner or Edward McKay's.) I picked up a book that contained three plays written by Sarah Kane. I randomly flipped to one and was sucked in for about ten minutes, until we had to leave. With absolute certainty, I can say that the small part of that profound play was the most disturbing thing I have ever read. Maybe one day I'll finish reading it.
We then went back to the charming apartment. During our walk, I realized how liberal and open-minded Madrid seemed to be. On various walls, I saw rainbow-colored advertisements for "Gay Day" on September 24. Man, what a shame we would be out of the beautiful city by then! I also saw, on a huge electronic billboard on one of the main streets of central Madrid, Gran Vía, a colorful picture of two women with long, flowing hair kissing. I was very happy to see such progressive ideas proliferating the city.
We chilled in the apartment (you guessed it, I was reading), and after a while we decided to go out to eat. It was about 8pm, so still early for Spanish dinnertime, but we ended up not sitting down at a restaurant until thirty minutes later because of a great conversation Mama, Olivia, and I had with one of our apartment building neighbors. The elderly woman lived on the third floor, and we on the fourth (which would be considered the fifth floor in the US, because in Spain what we call the first floor is the zero floor). Her son worked at the Thai restaurant across the street and had a dog that they both adored. The woman had just finished walking the dog, who was now whining because her son was outside the restaurant and the sweet doggie wanted to be with him. Our neighbor was very sweet, and after talking with her for a while, we discovered that she hosted students from Chicago who were studying abroad at the University of Madrid. She said that she had to cook them one meal a day and do their laundry. How cool is that?
Dinner was incredible. For appetizers, we got anchovies in vinegar and fried calamares. Daddy got tomatoes with crispy-edged mozzarella melted on top on a bed of rich olive oil and herbs. I got potatoes covered in a fried egg, thick slabs of smoked salmon, and tender twirls of sautéed shrimp. Olivia got one of the best things I've ever eaten in my life: fried brie fresh raspberry and peach jelly to dip the cheese into. Oh my god. Incredible. Mama got gamba alajillo, which is a garlicky shrimp dish perfect for dipping bread into. Only O and I got dessert, and we got pretty much the same thing: a chocolate pastry covered in cold ice cream and fresh sweet cream. While Olivia ordered the chocolate fondant (which I totally should have gotten, it's literally a chocolate lava cake), I got the chocolate brownie for the bottom part of the dessert. Yum.
After the fantastic dinner--really, I would rate it one of the best dinners yet in Spain--we walked sleepily back to the apartment and went to bed.
Breakfast!
Me and O in Puerta del Sol
We kinda demolished the Indian food
The freaking amazing brie dish.
The traditional calamares frito
Can you believe this decadence?
Gamba alajillo
My dad's dish of cheesy goodness
It's okay. You can be jealous ;)
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Furiously Blogging Part II
I know, I know, I didn´t write through September 28 before I left for Gibraltar. I tend to set goals that are a bit too lofty sometimes. (Ermm, actually, sometimes is probably an understatement. You should have seen my planner for senior and junior year. I have ridiculously high expectations on what can be done in a short period of time!)
Well, now I'm back to furiously blogging. Too-Lofty Goal Number Two: catch up on my entire blog by the end of this week. I promise I'll try :)
Cheers,
Vanessa
Well, now I'm back to furiously blogging. Too-Lofty Goal Number Two: catch up on my entire blog by the end of this week. I promise I'll try :)
Cheers,
Vanessa
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Friday, September 16, 2016
Here's the amazing thing about the small town Setenil de las Bodegas: many of its buildings are in caves. Yes, that's right. How freaking awesome is that? We stayed in a cave house, with the ceilings of our bedrooms bare rock.
My family and I awoke to the sound of a mercadillo directly outside our front door. Since our cave house was on the village's main street, this made sense. Fridays were mercadillo days for Setenil. We ate breakfast (fried eggs, bread, and a bowl of chocolatey cereal) on the terrace, where Olivia and I did some birding. It's pretty great when you can see lifers from your house almost as soon as you wake up in the morning. The best thing we saw was an elegant Blue Rock Thrush, whose plumage was a silvery blue-gray embroidered with a lace-like pattern of gray speckles. We also saw a small flock of Serin, a bunch of Spotless Starlings (so cool, they aren't the nonnative, invasive European Starlings of the US, they are an entirely different species), Blackbirds, a Wren (a lifer whose Spanish name is Chochín), and a Kestrel.
After shopping at the mercadillo for some nice clothes, we walked around the town. We went into a couple of clothing stores, though we didn't buy anything, then walked up this long-ass cobblestone hill to get money from the bank. We then went back to our house and packed everything in the rental car (whose window we got fixed in Málaga, thanks to Leti's help) with only a few minutes to spare; we were supposed to be out of the house by noon, since another group of renters would arrive that afternoon.
My family and I walked up to a place that Olivia and Daddy had gone to last night on a nighttime walk. Mama and I had not been feeling up for a late stroll, so we had stayed in the cave house and chilled. We walked up and up, then got the reward of a tremendous view of the town. Then, all of us went to a shoe shop, where Daddy got some snazzy, made-in-Spain shoes. Afterward, we went to an artisan shop that Olivia and I had been to last trip. The shop was in a cave, dark froths of moss on the roof and intricately painted, handmade plates hanging from the rock walls. The owner refused to bargain at all, but we ended up getting a few beautiful items anyway.
We ate lunch outside, overlooking the river that cuts through Setenil de las Bodegas. The appetizers were anchovies in vinegar and fried bacalao. Daddy ate toast smothered with goat cheese, topped with thick layers of smoked salmon, drizzled with molasses. God, it was amazing. It was also really interesting to discover what molasses is in Spanish: miel de caña, translated literally to "cane honey." This is likely because molasses is the byproduct of the process that turns brown sugar, which is the most raw form of sugar, into white sugar. Thus, cane honey. Anyway, back to the lunch descriptions that are making my mouth water just thinking about them. Mama got callos, which is tripe soup. Yes, the least vegetarian meal on the planet, but, when in Spain. . . That was the first time I had ever tried the meaty stew, and it was awesome. Olivia got fries and chicken kabobs, which were decadently coated in rich spices. I pretty much ate off of everyone else's plates :).
Now, it was off to Madrid, Spain's capital. Daddy, Olivia, and I, had never been, and Mama had only been once, during an airplane layover. Her story of her visit is pretty funny. She went with her parents, and they had an unexpected six-hour layover in the Madrid airport en route to Málaga. My ever-cautious grandfather refused to leave the airport, he was so worried about missing the next flight. Mama and Abuelita said, to heck with staying here for six hours, we're going into the city. So, they went and got jamón serrano sandwiches and walked around a bit, then went back to the airport where Abuelito was waiting.
On our way to Madrid we, of course, got lost. This ended up being quite serendipidous. At 10pm, we took the wrong exit off of the highway and pulled over to try to figure out what we should do next. Mama suddenly looked up and, in the glare of the headlights, saw birds! They turned out to be a family of small Red-Legged Partridges, lifers for O and I! That was great, and we eventually arrived at Madrid late that night.
My family and I awoke to the sound of a mercadillo directly outside our front door. Since our cave house was on the village's main street, this made sense. Fridays were mercadillo days for Setenil. We ate breakfast (fried eggs, bread, and a bowl of chocolatey cereal) on the terrace, where Olivia and I did some birding. It's pretty great when you can see lifers from your house almost as soon as you wake up in the morning. The best thing we saw was an elegant Blue Rock Thrush, whose plumage was a silvery blue-gray embroidered with a lace-like pattern of gray speckles. We also saw a small flock of Serin, a bunch of Spotless Starlings (so cool, they aren't the nonnative, invasive European Starlings of the US, they are an entirely different species), Blackbirds, a Wren (a lifer whose Spanish name is Chochín), and a Kestrel.
After shopping at the mercadillo for some nice clothes, we walked around the town. We went into a couple of clothing stores, though we didn't buy anything, then walked up this long-ass cobblestone hill to get money from the bank. We then went back to our house and packed everything in the rental car (whose window we got fixed in Málaga, thanks to Leti's help) with only a few minutes to spare; we were supposed to be out of the house by noon, since another group of renters would arrive that afternoon.
My family and I walked up to a place that Olivia and Daddy had gone to last night on a nighttime walk. Mama and I had not been feeling up for a late stroll, so we had stayed in the cave house and chilled. We walked up and up, then got the reward of a tremendous view of the town. Then, all of us went to a shoe shop, where Daddy got some snazzy, made-in-Spain shoes. Afterward, we went to an artisan shop that Olivia and I had been to last trip. The shop was in a cave, dark froths of moss on the roof and intricately painted, handmade plates hanging from the rock walls. The owner refused to bargain at all, but we ended up getting a few beautiful items anyway.
We ate lunch outside, overlooking the river that cuts through Setenil de las Bodegas. The appetizers were anchovies in vinegar and fried bacalao. Daddy ate toast smothered with goat cheese, topped with thick layers of smoked salmon, drizzled with molasses. God, it was amazing. It was also really interesting to discover what molasses is in Spanish: miel de caña, translated literally to "cane honey." This is likely because molasses is the byproduct of the process that turns brown sugar, which is the most raw form of sugar, into white sugar. Thus, cane honey. Anyway, back to the lunch descriptions that are making my mouth water just thinking about them. Mama got callos, which is tripe soup. Yes, the least vegetarian meal on the planet, but, when in Spain. . . That was the first time I had ever tried the meaty stew, and it was awesome. Olivia got fries and chicken kabobs, which were decadently coated in rich spices. I pretty much ate off of everyone else's plates :).
Now, it was off to Madrid, Spain's capital. Daddy, Olivia, and I, had never been, and Mama had only been once, during an airplane layover. Her story of her visit is pretty funny. She went with her parents, and they had an unexpected six-hour layover in the Madrid airport en route to Málaga. My ever-cautious grandfather refused to leave the airport, he was so worried about missing the next flight. Mama and Abuelita said, to heck with staying here for six hours, we're going into the city. So, they went and got jamón serrano sandwiches and walked around a bit, then went back to the airport where Abuelito was waiting.
On our way to Madrid we, of course, got lost. This ended up being quite serendipidous. At 10pm, we took the wrong exit off of the highway and pulled over to try to figure out what we should do next. Mama suddenly looked up and, in the glare of the headlights, saw birds! They turned out to be a family of small Red-Legged Partridges, lifers for O and I! That was great, and we eventually arrived at Madrid late that night.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
I was not in the best mood in the morning, but after buying some new clothes and showering, I felt much better. We all said heartfelt goodbyes to Leticia, Victor, Victor, and Angel, then headed off to El Chorro!
In 2014, when Olivia and I stayed in Spain for a month with our grandmother, we had visited El Chorro. It is an incredible natural area full of spectacular mountains and sapphire-blue lakes. I have honestly never seen bluer water. We all gaped at our surroundings as we drove in, then stopped at a train station to figure out where to go within the natural area. Olivia and I suggested that we go to a restaurant overlooking one of the bright lakes, where there was access to mountain trails. We all went there and hiked around a bit, taking pictures of the view. Olivia and I spotted a few Pied Flycatchers, which was the first time we had seen them this trip. We also saw a Chaffinch, which we showed Mama and Daddy. I always find that I appreciate nature even more when I am sharing it with others.
Time for dinner! We ate at the restaurant that Olivia and I had remembered from the last trip, called El Mirador. Olivia got fried eggplant drizzled with honey, which, I kid you not, tasted like the best French toast I've ever had. Daddy got bread crumbs in garlic olive oil, studded with bits of rich jamón serrano and covered with a fried egg. Mama ate fries and asparagus with alioli, and though that sounds plain, the flavors were far from bland. I had a spectacular mango, apple, and goat cheese salad. In the middle of the mixed greens was a whole wheel of goat cheese, whose sides were caramelized to a crispy brown. Walnuts rounded off the dish perfectly. Once done with our decadent meal, off we drove to Setenil de las Bodegas.
In 2014, when Olivia and I stayed in Spain for a month with our grandmother, we had visited El Chorro. It is an incredible natural area full of spectacular mountains and sapphire-blue lakes. I have honestly never seen bluer water. We all gaped at our surroundings as we drove in, then stopped at a train station to figure out where to go within the natural area. Olivia and I suggested that we go to a restaurant overlooking one of the bright lakes, where there was access to mountain trails. We all went there and hiked around a bit, taking pictures of the view. Olivia and I spotted a few Pied Flycatchers, which was the first time we had seen them this trip. We also saw a Chaffinch, which we showed Mama and Daddy. I always find that I appreciate nature even more when I am sharing it with others.
Time for dinner! We ate at the restaurant that Olivia and I had remembered from the last trip, called El Mirador. Olivia got fried eggplant drizzled with honey, which, I kid you not, tasted like the best French toast I've ever had. Daddy got bread crumbs in garlic olive oil, studded with bits of rich jamón serrano and covered with a fried egg. Mama ate fries and asparagus with alioli, and though that sounds plain, the flavors were far from bland. I had a spectacular mango, apple, and goat cheese salad. In the middle of the mixed greens was a whole wheel of goat cheese, whose sides were caramelized to a crispy brown. Walnuts rounded off the dish perfectly. Once done with our decadent meal, off we drove to Setenil de las Bodegas.
El Caminito del Rey, a tiny footpath and bridge on the cliff and across this gorge
My dad's meal
Isn't this a piece of art?
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
This is a day I have been dreading to blog about. I want to preface by saying that I refuse to let the events of this day define the entire vacation.
We planned to leave Málaga today. So, after breakfast, we headed to the beach. My family and I walked around, looking at the beautiful Mediterranean and trying out a few exercise machines in one of the many public outdoor gyms of Spain. We got drinks at a little café. I got the nube, which is something that you can only order in Málaga. In this city, there are a host of ways to order café con leche. Victor Sr. had explained all of the varieties the night before during dinner, though we had all already known a couple. Nube means a little bit of coffee and a lot of milk, which makes since because the word means cloud in Spanish. Sombra, shade, means a bit more coffee in the milk-to-coffee ratio. Corto is about half-and-half, and there are many more options. Don't try to go anywhere but Málaga and order a coffee like this, they won't understand you. Isn't that cool how every city has some vernacular or item that is unique to only that place?
Now, we did what Mama has been looking forward to this entire trip: we sat on the terrace of a restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and ate fresh sardines, roasted to perfection. This city is known for it's seafood, and with good reason. We had a splendid lunch.
When we got back to our rental car, we saw that we had gotten robbed. The side window was smashed in, the trunk open. The robbers had taken all of our suitcases and backpacks, minus one: Mama had left her huge suitcase unzipped, and they must have not wanted a bunch of clothes. Ironically, they had taken my dad's suitcase, although all that contained was all of our dirty laundry. Let me tell you, if you ever want to clean out your closet, pack almost all of it in a suitcase and get robbed! Honestly, a perk to this was getting almost an entirely new wardrobe. The best thing was that they had not bothered to look in the seats, where our binoculars, Kindles, and mini-scope were covered with jackets. The worst things were the violation of safety that we then felt and the journals that they had taken, precious to us and worthless to them. It broke my heart that they had done this while we were sitting by the sea, eating and laughing and talking, oblivious that strangers were stealing things that we cared about. Although the most expensive things that they took were a computer, iPad mini, and Nikon camera, what was most saddening was the creative documents that we lost. My dad lost much of the screenplay he is writing, I lost almost all of the poetry I've ever written. But, do not get me wrong, it could have been so much worse. None of us were physically hurt, and we were all together.
We went to the comisaría, police station, escorted by two kind and attractive police officers. I remember learning that word in Spanish class, and it had stuck with me because of how strange it was; why not just call it estación de policía? I'm not sure if I'll ever know the answer to that question, but what I do know is that that police station helped us. We explained what had happened and the items of great monetary value that we had lost. Everyone that we interacted with was very kind and in no way condescending. After we left, we called Leticia and her family and asked if we could take Victor up on his offer to stay with them in Málaga. They, of course, said yes, and we drove to their apartment to spend the night.
We planned to leave Málaga today. So, after breakfast, we headed to the beach. My family and I walked around, looking at the beautiful Mediterranean and trying out a few exercise machines in one of the many public outdoor gyms of Spain. We got drinks at a little café. I got the nube, which is something that you can only order in Málaga. In this city, there are a host of ways to order café con leche. Victor Sr. had explained all of the varieties the night before during dinner, though we had all already known a couple. Nube means a little bit of coffee and a lot of milk, which makes since because the word means cloud in Spanish. Sombra, shade, means a bit more coffee in the milk-to-coffee ratio. Corto is about half-and-half, and there are many more options. Don't try to go anywhere but Málaga and order a coffee like this, they won't understand you. Isn't that cool how every city has some vernacular or item that is unique to only that place?
Now, we did what Mama has been looking forward to this entire trip: we sat on the terrace of a restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and ate fresh sardines, roasted to perfection. This city is known for it's seafood, and with good reason. We had a splendid lunch.
When we got back to our rental car, we saw that we had gotten robbed. The side window was smashed in, the trunk open. The robbers had taken all of our suitcases and backpacks, minus one: Mama had left her huge suitcase unzipped, and they must have not wanted a bunch of clothes. Ironically, they had taken my dad's suitcase, although all that contained was all of our dirty laundry. Let me tell you, if you ever want to clean out your closet, pack almost all of it in a suitcase and get robbed! Honestly, a perk to this was getting almost an entirely new wardrobe. The best thing was that they had not bothered to look in the seats, where our binoculars, Kindles, and mini-scope were covered with jackets. The worst things were the violation of safety that we then felt and the journals that they had taken, precious to us and worthless to them. It broke my heart that they had done this while we were sitting by the sea, eating and laughing and talking, oblivious that strangers were stealing things that we cared about. Although the most expensive things that they took were a computer, iPad mini, and Nikon camera, what was most saddening was the creative documents that we lost. My dad lost much of the screenplay he is writing, I lost almost all of the poetry I've ever written. But, do not get me wrong, it could have been so much worse. None of us were physically hurt, and we were all together.
We went to the comisaría, police station, escorted by two kind and attractive police officers. I remember learning that word in Spanish class, and it had stuck with me because of how strange it was; why not just call it estación de policía? I'm not sure if I'll ever know the answer to that question, but what I do know is that that police station helped us. We explained what had happened and the items of great monetary value that we had lost. Everyone that we interacted with was very kind and in no way condescending. After we left, we called Leticia and her family and asked if we could take Victor up on his offer to stay with them in Málaga. They, of course, said yes, and we drove to their apartment to spend the night.
Café con leche "nube"
Olivia's pretty hair :)
Every time we come to Málaga, we walk in the Paseo Maritimo de Antonio Banderas
This is the awesome way that sardines are grilled
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
After waking up and eating churros with chocolate, we went to Málaga proper. We walked around for a bit, then ate lunch at a restaurant near the middle of the city. Olivia and my dad ordered one of my favorite meals: fries covered in jamón serrano, topped with two fried eggs. God, it's heavenly. I ordered a shrimp kabob which was cooked to perfection and sprinkled with vibrant spices. We visited the Picasso Museum, which Olivia and I went to two years ago, and thoroughly enjoyed it. My favorite part was the video clips of Picasso doing quick paint-sketches on transparent glass. It fascinates me how he could make a few odd lines create a creature or person.
My family and I then shopped around, bought a few gifts for family and friends, and then sat down at a pastelería (pastry shop) to eat a few pastries and drink tea. Well, actually, I was the only one who ordered tea. Everyone else just ate pastries.
Now, it was off to visit more family! We went to visit Mama's first cousin Leticia, her husband, Victor; their sons, Victor and Angel (who really is angelic); and Cristian, the nineteen-year-old son of Leticia's identical twin sister, Sandra. We took them all out to dinner for only 60 €, and ate an enormous amount of food. Every drink came with a free appetizer, and after that, we got main dishes and dessert. Cristian and us kids talked about names that can and cannot be translated between English and Spanish. Harry and Elizabeth, for example, can really only be said in English. There was one name that Cristain said that made us all laugh our heads off, and he said that it was not only limited to the Spanish language, it would never leave the southern redneck-country of Spain. Then, we began talking about more serious things, like politics. This began because Victor (Sr.) asked us if we were voting for Trump, to which we kind of exploded and asked why he even had to ask such a ridiculous question. Cristian, Olivia, and I then started talking a bit about Franco and Hitler's relationship. It was so great to hang out with all of them.
Mama, Daddy, Olivia, and I walked back with our extended family to their apartment, and we ended the night by Victor Sr. saying that we were welcome to stay the night whenever we came back to Málaga. Man, I have a wonderful family.
My family and I then shopped around, bought a few gifts for family and friends, and then sat down at a pastelería (pastry shop) to eat a few pastries and drink tea. Well, actually, I was the only one who ordered tea. Everyone else just ate pastries.
Now, it was off to visit more family! We went to visit Mama's first cousin Leticia, her husband, Victor; their sons, Victor and Angel (who really is angelic); and Cristian, the nineteen-year-old son of Leticia's identical twin sister, Sandra. We took them all out to dinner for only 60 €, and ate an enormous amount of food. Every drink came with a free appetizer, and after that, we got main dishes and dessert. Cristian and us kids talked about names that can and cannot be translated between English and Spanish. Harry and Elizabeth, for example, can really only be said in English. There was one name that Cristain said that made us all laugh our heads off, and he said that it was not only limited to the Spanish language, it would never leave the southern redneck-country of Spain. Then, we began talking about more serious things, like politics. This began because Victor (Sr.) asked us if we were voting for Trump, to which we kind of exploded and asked why he even had to ask such a ridiculous question. Cristian, Olivia, and I then started talking a bit about Franco and Hitler's relationship. It was so great to hang out with all of them.
Mama, Daddy, Olivia, and I walked back with our extended family to their apartment, and we ended the night by Victor Sr. saying that we were welcome to stay the night whenever we came back to Málaga. Man, I have a wonderful family.
This was hanging in a bathroom. It's V for Vendetta in Spanish! :)
My awesome family
Monday, September 12, 2016
Today, my family and I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:40. HAHA!! I love that any time before 7am seems ridiculously early in September, because for the last four years of my life, 6am was the norm. Man, although I sometimes miss school (yes, I really do; I honestly enjoy learning and getting assignments done), I do NOT miss being forced to wake up so early. Plus, this early hour was for something more enjoyable than math class at 7:25am--we were going hiking. We went up the mountain overlooking Casas Bajas and the nearby town, Casas Altas, gaping at the fantastic views and listening to the church bells toll the hour. Funnily enough, we heard the bells of three towns, and every town was separated by two minutes. Weird, huh? It was a beautiful symphony, both to the ear and eye: the bells singing, the sunrise staining the sky, and the towns slowly turning from the blue of shade to the gold of sunshine. During the hike, Olivia and I, of course, saw many birds: the Blue Tit (yes, tit, now stop giggling, you immature people. British people chose to call various species of birds, similar to our Carolina Chickadee and Tufted Titmouse, tits.), Great Tit, Blackbirds, Black Redstart (lifer!), Stonechat, Dartford Warbler (lifer!), Sardinian Warbler, Rock Bunting, and Crested Tit. During our almost-three-hour hike, we also stopped to pick some almonds fresh off of almond trees and took pictures of a really cool hut near the top of the mountain.
By the time we got back to the house, we were famished. Other than a few delicious figs we had picked directly off of a tree, we had not eaten breakfast. We went to a store and bought breakfast foodstuffs, than went to make our meal. Right outside of the house, I saw another lifer: the Nuthatch!!! In the States, my favorite bird is the Brown-Headed Nuthatch, and I had never before seen its European counterpart. I quickly got Olivia, and we got a great look at the inquisitive bird before going inside and wolfing down our breakfast. Breakfast was decadent: a cheese sandwich with tomato rubbed on the bread, bread with nocilla, and kiwis, figs, and paraguayos (a sweet, juicy fruit that I lament has yet to make it to the US).
Since we were leaving Casas Bajas today, we had to furiously shower and pack to get out of the house (which was made in the 1800s, by the way, with gorgeous beams and quirky doors) before going for a walk around town. When we were hungry, we got lunch at a bar/restaurant (every restaurant here is known as a bar/restaurant, because every one of them serves alcohol). My family and I ate at a table next to a group of old men, who, during a Monday afternoon, were playing cards, betting, cursing, and drinking beer. Olivia and I each got sandwiches for lunch. These were no usual sandwiches: the cooks had cut an entire loaf of bread in half, with each of us getting a half; rubbed tomato on it, covered it with slabs of mouth-watering jamón serrano, and drizzled each with rich olive oil and spices. I also had manchego on my sandwich. Needless to say, we had some left for the car ride.
On the road to Málaga. Though the trip was supposed to take seven hours, it took us nine. Have I mentioned the trouble we had with directions and driving in Spain? The entire time, I read The Orphan Train. Oh my god, unless you're reading Harry Potter, read that book right now. It is stunning, showing the ugly and beautiful mirrors of humanity. I finished it at 1:00am the next morning, and felt like crying when I was done. No, the crying part was not a spoiler, I was just overjoyed to have experienced such a powerful book and heartbroken to be done with it. Finally, I went to sleep.
By the time we got back to the house, we were famished. Other than a few delicious figs we had picked directly off of a tree, we had not eaten breakfast. We went to a store and bought breakfast foodstuffs, than went to make our meal. Right outside of the house, I saw another lifer: the Nuthatch!!! In the States, my favorite bird is the Brown-Headed Nuthatch, and I had never before seen its European counterpart. I quickly got Olivia, and we got a great look at the inquisitive bird before going inside and wolfing down our breakfast. Breakfast was decadent: a cheese sandwich with tomato rubbed on the bread, bread with nocilla, and kiwis, figs, and paraguayos (a sweet, juicy fruit that I lament has yet to make it to the US).
Since we were leaving Casas Bajas today, we had to furiously shower and pack to get out of the house (which was made in the 1800s, by the way, with gorgeous beams and quirky doors) before going for a walk around town. When we were hungry, we got lunch at a bar/restaurant (every restaurant here is known as a bar/restaurant, because every one of them serves alcohol). My family and I ate at a table next to a group of old men, who, during a Monday afternoon, were playing cards, betting, cursing, and drinking beer. Olivia and I each got sandwiches for lunch. These were no usual sandwiches: the cooks had cut an entire loaf of bread in half, with each of us getting a half; rubbed tomato on it, covered it with slabs of mouth-watering jamón serrano, and drizzled each with rich olive oil and spices. I also had manchego on my sandwich. Needless to say, we had some left for the car ride.
On the road to Málaga. Though the trip was supposed to take seven hours, it took us nine. Have I mentioned the trouble we had with directions and driving in Spain? The entire time, I read The Orphan Train. Oh my god, unless you're reading Harry Potter, read that book right now. It is stunning, showing the ugly and beautiful mirrors of humanity. I finished it at 1:00am the next morning, and felt like crying when I was done. No, the crying part was not a spoiler, I was just overjoyed to have experienced such a powerful book and heartbroken to be done with it. Finally, I went to sleep.
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