So, the time has come. After nearly 8 months of living in Autol I will have to say farewell in exactly 2 weeks. It's really just hitting me that for the next month or so I will be travelling, non-stop, through 7 different countries before my return to the States. While I have spent the last couple of months trying to get all my ducks in a row, I finally have a concrete (well, maybe wet concrete) plan. Here it is:
-I finish work on the 26th of May. On the 28th my friend Alex and I will be in Barcelona to attend the Primavera Sound Music Festival. I am looking forward to seeing Beach House, Panda Bear, Yeasayer, Major Lazer, Owen Pallet and the Pixies.
-The 30th of May I will head to Barcelona, where I may meet up with maggie Placer, who will be there with friends. I will definitely rendevous with my friend Patricia Duggan, who I met in Granada in December, and we will embark on a 2-week adventure together.
-On the 1st of June we will go to Lisbon for a couple days before returning to Madrid. Although I have been there before, I absolutely love this city.
-On the 4th we will fly to Marrakech, Morocco, and backpack our way to the north of the country, passing through Fes and Tetuoan until we reach the coast where we can catch a ferry back to Spain. I have never been to Morocco, but I must say I am more anxious about this trip than I typically am. I have heard many things about Morocco, some good and some bad, but either way I can't wait to be thrown into such a different culture and soak it up the sites, smells and tastes (well, maybe not so much the smells).
-Upon my return I will have about a week to kill before meeting Clayton. I will most likely go to Granada to chill with Caroline Davis, who will be studying there, and to Salamanca to catch up with Sarah Molbert before she returns to the States.
-On the 18th of June I will fly to Munich, Germany, where I will meet Clayton on the 20th. However, we will not spend much time in Munich-maybe one day-because we have many places to go and people to see.
-First we will head to Salzburg, Austria. I hear nothing but good things about this place, including that it is like a fairytale city. I can't wait to wander the streets, chocolate and beer in hand, and hear Mozart being played in the distance (he is from Salzburg). *Bonus* Nick Shirley, who has been living and teaching English in Austria, may come meet us which, would be awesome. We have been in contact throughout the year but haven't seen each other in years and joining him on his home turf would be quite exciting.
-From there we will head across the country to Vienna which is, if not my favorite, one of my favorite cities in all of Europe. Clay and I will also have a free place to stay-at the flat of this girl named Romy whom I met last time I was there-which will be nice. Plus she can give us a tour of the city and tell us where to eat, go out, etc.
-Next on the list is Budapest, Hungary. I am quite possibly the most excited about this city. I do not know much about it but I can't wait to find out what lies in the heart of traditional Hungarian culture which, from what I hear, still manifests itself in one of the oldest cities in Europe: Budapest. We will spend 3 days here.
-On June 28th we will catch a flight to Amsterdam, where we will spend 2 days. No explination is really necessary when it comes to this city, but I definitely want to rent bikes and bike around the countryside and, uh, drink their coffee.
-After the longest 2 days of our lives we will fly to Galway, Ireland. We have decided to start on the western side of the country in order to visit the Cliffs of Moher (sounds like something out of Lord of the Rings, doesn't it?) before busing across Ireland to Dublin, where we will spend a couple days before jumping the pond on the 6th of July.
While some-maybe most-of this is subject to change, I feel pretty good about our itenerary and cannot wait to backpack with my little bro...it's gonna be epic.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Nan and Papaw in Spain?!
It was cold. It was wet. It was an atypical affair.
This time last week I found myself in Barcelona, a European summertime hotspot and personally one of my favorite Spanish cities. I had been there a few times in the past; soaking up the welcoming sun, strolling the pedestrian streets filled with performers and artists alike, dragging idly along the miles and miles of inviting beaches decorated with the beautiful people from all over Europe, barhopping with fellow travelers until places started serving breakfast, etc. You know, the typical things one does in a dynamic place such as Barcelona.
This time it was a bit different. This time the sun was perpetually hidden behind blankets of purple and grey clouds, the beaches were as deserted as they probably are on the Gulf Coast, the artists were more concerned with protecting their paintings from the rain rather than creating new ones, and the closest thing I saw to a street performer were the dozens of Moroccan immigrants selling overpriced umbrellas to desperate vacationers. No, this was not the same Barcelona as depicted on post cards and television commercials.
However none of this mattered to me; the external factors took a distant backseat to the real reason I took off work to go to Barcelona on this particular week. The primary purpose of this trip was to rendezvous with my grandparents, Nan and Papaw, for a 2-day stint before they caught a Mediterranean cruise on Wednesday. It was super exciting for me-having the opportunity to meet up with one’s grandparents on the other side of the pond isn’t something that everyone can or will experience-and I was determined to make our 48 hours together special. Besides, they, along with the couple they were with, had never been to Spain.
While the rainy weather deterred us from venturing to the beaches, it did not stop us from hitting several of the cities attractions. We walked down La Rambla-the largest pedestrian street in Barcelona, visited the Sagrada Familia-the still-being-constructed masterpiece of Antoni Gaudi, probably my favorite architect, and even to park Guёll (which Gaudi designed and where he lived).
Also, I was able to avoid the usual diet of Kebobs and street food that I typically have to settle for on a traveler’s budget, and take advantage of the fine dining in a city known for its culinary prowess. I really wanted to introduce to my grandparents and their friends the wonderful food culture that Spain has to offer, which I felt I was able to accomplish on our last night together. It was 5 elderly couples and me, and they basically decided to leave it up to yours truly to find a place to eat. I opted to take them to a tapas bar, where we ate everything from cod fish, bbq’d shrimp, olives, fish salad, calamari, stuffed potatoes and, of course, Spain’s world-famous cured ham. Icing on the cake: we washed it all down with a couple of bottles of red imported from my region. I feel like it was an appropriate ending to a successful and special experience. I hope that Nan and Papaw have a fun and safe cruise. Love you guys.
This time last week I found myself in Barcelona, a European summertime hotspot and personally one of my favorite Spanish cities. I had been there a few times in the past; soaking up the welcoming sun, strolling the pedestrian streets filled with performers and artists alike, dragging idly along the miles and miles of inviting beaches decorated with the beautiful people from all over Europe, barhopping with fellow travelers until places started serving breakfast, etc. You know, the typical things one does in a dynamic place such as Barcelona.
This time it was a bit different. This time the sun was perpetually hidden behind blankets of purple and grey clouds, the beaches were as deserted as they probably are on the Gulf Coast, the artists were more concerned with protecting their paintings from the rain rather than creating new ones, and the closest thing I saw to a street performer were the dozens of Moroccan immigrants selling overpriced umbrellas to desperate vacationers. No, this was not the same Barcelona as depicted on post cards and television commercials.
However none of this mattered to me; the external factors took a distant backseat to the real reason I took off work to go to Barcelona on this particular week. The primary purpose of this trip was to rendezvous with my grandparents, Nan and Papaw, for a 2-day stint before they caught a Mediterranean cruise on Wednesday. It was super exciting for me-having the opportunity to meet up with one’s grandparents on the other side of the pond isn’t something that everyone can or will experience-and I was determined to make our 48 hours together special. Besides, they, along with the couple they were with, had never been to Spain.
While the rainy weather deterred us from venturing to the beaches, it did not stop us from hitting several of the cities attractions. We walked down La Rambla-the largest pedestrian street in Barcelona, visited the Sagrada Familia-the still-being-constructed masterpiece of Antoni Gaudi, probably my favorite architect, and even to park Guёll (which Gaudi designed and where he lived).
Also, I was able to avoid the usual diet of Kebobs and street food that I typically have to settle for on a traveler’s budget, and take advantage of the fine dining in a city known for its culinary prowess. I really wanted to introduce to my grandparents and their friends the wonderful food culture that Spain has to offer, which I felt I was able to accomplish on our last night together. It was 5 elderly couples and me, and they basically decided to leave it up to yours truly to find a place to eat. I opted to take them to a tapas bar, where we ate everything from cod fish, bbq’d shrimp, olives, fish salad, calamari, stuffed potatoes and, of course, Spain’s world-famous cured ham. Icing on the cake: we washed it all down with a couple of bottles of red imported from my region. I feel like it was an appropriate ending to a successful and special experience. I hope that Nan and Papaw have a fun and safe cruise. Love you guys.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Es Ist Leiwand!
“Es ist leiwand!” is one of the few German phrases I picked up while in Austria. While we probably over-killed it, it was the phrase that possibly best summed up David and my trip to Central Europe as it literally translates to “this is awesome!”
However, the story really began before even setting foot in the Czech Republic or Austria. Given that our flight was out of Madrid, I decided to go to there a day early and spend the night in a hostel and meet David the following day. The great thing about ‘Catz Hostel’ in Madrid is that is has a downstairs bar/lounge where travellers frequently pregame in order to meet people and have a few drinks. This was not my plan, but I thought I would go down and try to get some reading in (I am currently crawling though Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged). I did not read one page. Instead I sat down at a random table next to a guy who introduced himself as Gaston. Oddly enough, he happened to be from Buenos Aires, where I lived for a summer a few years ago, and so we started chatting. Come to find out, Gaston was actually heading to Prague the next day-on the same flight-and staying at the same hostel as David and me. Being that he was in Europe by himself, it only made since for this Argentine to join David and I in our beer and sausage-filled Prague adventure.
As if this wasn’t enough of a coincidence, we actually met a handful of Argentines at our hostel our first night in Prague who Gaston had gone to school with in the past (small world, huh?). Being that it was their last night in the city and our first, they decided to take us, along with a couple of Brazilian and Dominican girls, to one of the most famous clubs in the city: a five-story dance club called “Lavka”, which is located on the Vltava river. Each floor blasts different musical themes and styles, ranging from 70’s disco to rock to modern-day electronic. Let’s just say it was an appropriate way to start the trip.
The next few days pretty much consisted of David and I taking advantage of the extremely cheap beer and local cuisine (which included everything from an array of sausages, fried cheese and mayo sandwiches, Czech-style pork dishes, and pizza). The main sites we saw were the famous Charles Bridge, the Main Square with the famous astronomical cuckoo-style clock tower, and the impressively unique Prague Castle. We also rented bikes one day and cruised throughout most of the city, exploring parts that we would not have ventured to on foot.
However, despite the picturesque views and impressive architecture that Prague boasts, it has become, over the years, renowned for its nightlife. During the four-day stretch David and I went everywhere from Jazz clubs, underground tavern-style bars, a 90’s-themed dance club, and even a bar in which each table has its own tap and digitally records on a monitor how many litres of beer you have consumed. In fact, at this one particular tap-at-the-table bar, David, Gaston and I were just about the only people there (it was a Monday), aside from a group of about 25 middle-aged Thai women who were celebrating a bacheloret party of come kind; very awkward and a pretty uncomfortable (they were hitting on us), but pretty entertaining nevertheless.
The next day we headed south to Vienna, Austria. Being that it is quite an expensive city, we decided not to stay in a hostel but to Couch Surf instead. We stayed at the apartment of a girl named Sara Schamat, who is from Vienna and is studying at the university there. One of the great things about Couch Surfing is that you get to see a different side of a city, one that the locals know about and which tourists spend weeks or months trying to discover. It helps that the people are genuinely friendly and for the most part speak perfect English, as they must begin to study the language at the age of six. They also are very well educated about their history, especially WWII history. In fact, someone told us that if you attend a university you will end up taking about 8 years of World War II history throughout your life. It almost seemed as if there existed an underlying feeling of guilt that still resonated throughout the contemporary Austrian culture, which I found to be quite interesting.
So we hung out with Sara’s friends at local markets, plazas and bars while they showed us around the city, telling us where to go and what to eat. They also introduced us to one of my favorite things about Vienna: they have a beer delivery service. Yes, that’s right, you heard correctly. In Vienna, there is a delivery system that mirrors that of pizza in the US, except it’s with beer-probably one of the greatest concepts I have experienced since being on the other side of the pond. Is also noteworthy that Austrian beer is among the best in Europe; I’ll just say we didn’t see many people drinking cocktails while we were there.
Aside from the eating, drinking, and hanging out with locals, the actual city is exceptionally impressive. It boasts some of the most beautiful architecture in Europe and, for a large city, is very clean. In fact, it is the greenest city in all of Europe and has been voted as the number one place to live in the world for two consecutive years, and the reasons, as you can see, are quite obvious.
However, there is a very interesting juxtaposition between the old and the new in Vienna, as contemporary art can be found next to and inside classical buildings as well as the existence of random establishments such as the “Anal Bar” and “Sperm help-desk” (both of which are probably designed to look a little too realistic) in plazas surrounded by fancy cafes and contemporary art museums. Yet, it only seems appropriate for it to be this way, as Vienna itself seemed to me to be a city of contrasts. There are obvious contrasts that exist between the locals and the Turkish immigrants, between the lingering WWII hangover and foresight to be one of the most modern cities in the western world, and, like so many European countries today, between the old and traditional generation and that of the 21st century.
*I would also like to thank everyone for the birthday wishes. In Spain, the tradition is to pull the ears of the birthday boy/girl: one pull for each year they have. Yesterday afternoon when I returned home my ears were red and my e-mail was full, and that meant a lot to me.
However, the story really began before even setting foot in the Czech Republic or Austria. Given that our flight was out of Madrid, I decided to go to there a day early and spend the night in a hostel and meet David the following day. The great thing about ‘Catz Hostel’ in Madrid is that is has a downstairs bar/lounge where travellers frequently pregame in order to meet people and have a few drinks. This was not my plan, but I thought I would go down and try to get some reading in (I am currently crawling though Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged). I did not read one page. Instead I sat down at a random table next to a guy who introduced himself as Gaston. Oddly enough, he happened to be from Buenos Aires, where I lived for a summer a few years ago, and so we started chatting. Come to find out, Gaston was actually heading to Prague the next day-on the same flight-and staying at the same hostel as David and me. Being that he was in Europe by himself, it only made since for this Argentine to join David and I in our beer and sausage-filled Prague adventure.
As if this wasn’t enough of a coincidence, we actually met a handful of Argentines at our hostel our first night in Prague who Gaston had gone to school with in the past (small world, huh?). Being that it was their last night in the city and our first, they decided to take us, along with a couple of Brazilian and Dominican girls, to one of the most famous clubs in the city: a five-story dance club called “Lavka”, which is located on the Vltava river. Each floor blasts different musical themes and styles, ranging from 70’s disco to rock to modern-day electronic. Let’s just say it was an appropriate way to start the trip.
The next few days pretty much consisted of David and I taking advantage of the extremely cheap beer and local cuisine (which included everything from an array of sausages, fried cheese and mayo sandwiches, Czech-style pork dishes, and pizza). The main sites we saw were the famous Charles Bridge, the Main Square with the famous astronomical cuckoo-style clock tower, and the impressively unique Prague Castle. We also rented bikes one day and cruised throughout most of the city, exploring parts that we would not have ventured to on foot.
However, despite the picturesque views and impressive architecture that Prague boasts, it has become, over the years, renowned for its nightlife. During the four-day stretch David and I went everywhere from Jazz clubs, underground tavern-style bars, a 90’s-themed dance club, and even a bar in which each table has its own tap and digitally records on a monitor how many litres of beer you have consumed. In fact, at this one particular tap-at-the-table bar, David, Gaston and I were just about the only people there (it was a Monday), aside from a group of about 25 middle-aged Thai women who were celebrating a bacheloret party of come kind; very awkward and a pretty uncomfortable (they were hitting on us), but pretty entertaining nevertheless.
The next day we headed south to Vienna, Austria. Being that it is quite an expensive city, we decided not to stay in a hostel but to Couch Surf instead. We stayed at the apartment of a girl named Sara Schamat, who is from Vienna and is studying at the university there. One of the great things about Couch Surfing is that you get to see a different side of a city, one that the locals know about and which tourists spend weeks or months trying to discover. It helps that the people are genuinely friendly and for the most part speak perfect English, as they must begin to study the language at the age of six. They also are very well educated about their history, especially WWII history. In fact, someone told us that if you attend a university you will end up taking about 8 years of World War II history throughout your life. It almost seemed as if there existed an underlying feeling of guilt that still resonated throughout the contemporary Austrian culture, which I found to be quite interesting.
So we hung out with Sara’s friends at local markets, plazas and bars while they showed us around the city, telling us where to go and what to eat. They also introduced us to one of my favorite things about Vienna: they have a beer delivery service. Yes, that’s right, you heard correctly. In Vienna, there is a delivery system that mirrors that of pizza in the US, except it’s with beer-probably one of the greatest concepts I have experienced since being on the other side of the pond. Is also noteworthy that Austrian beer is among the best in Europe; I’ll just say we didn’t see many people drinking cocktails while we were there.
Aside from the eating, drinking, and hanging out with locals, the actual city is exceptionally impressive. It boasts some of the most beautiful architecture in Europe and, for a large city, is very clean. In fact, it is the greenest city in all of Europe and has been voted as the number one place to live in the world for two consecutive years, and the reasons, as you can see, are quite obvious.
However, there is a very interesting juxtaposition between the old and the new in Vienna, as contemporary art can be found next to and inside classical buildings as well as the existence of random establishments such as the “Anal Bar” and “Sperm help-desk” (both of which are probably designed to look a little too realistic) in plazas surrounded by fancy cafes and contemporary art museums. Yet, it only seems appropriate for it to be this way, as Vienna itself seemed to me to be a city of contrasts. There are obvious contrasts that exist between the locals and the Turkish immigrants, between the lingering WWII hangover and foresight to be one of the most modern cities in the western world, and, like so many European countries today, between the old and traditional generation and that of the 21st century.
*I would also like to thank everyone for the birthday wishes. In Spain, the tradition is to pull the ears of the birthday boy/girl: one pull for each year they have. Yesterday afternoon when I returned home my ears were red and my e-mail was full, and that meant a lot to me.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Apple Juice
15 gentlemen. 3 days. Nearly 300 bottles of apple cider.
Last Friday was Father’s Day in Spain, a national holiday which gives everyone the day off of work and thus a three-day weekend. In order to take advantage of this, two American friends of mine, Matt Walsh and David McCoy, along with Matt’s American roommate Tom from Maine, and 11 of their Spanish friends decided to go to Gijón.
Gijón is a coastal city in the north of Spain located in the Asturius region and is famous for its apple cider, beaches, and partying all night in the streets and plazas. While drinking outside of bars is frowned upon and even against the law in some parts of the country, it is almost a necessity in Gijón because of the fashion in which one drinks the cider. You see, you have to pour about a sip’s worth at a time from the bottle into a glass from holding the bottle above your head, making for about a two and a half foot pour. This will ultimately result in missing the glass at times (especially as the night carries on), so it makes since that it’s encouraged to be drank in the streets instead of the bars.
After a successful Thursday night of introductions to both Matt’s Spanish friends and the cider culture, we hit a bit of a speed bump on Friday morning. You see, Matt and Tom, who teach English in Segovia, have expired visas and had forgotten their passports at home. In hostels, it is standard procedure for everyone checking in to produce an international ID of some sort if you are not a citizen of that particular country. When Matt and Tom had no proper documentation, the police were informed about their illegal status and brought them to the station. However, given that Spain is in a financial crisis and didn’t want to pay for their deportation, they were told that they have 2 weeks to return back to the States. Fortunately, they were released and thus able to spend the rest of the weekend with us.
The weather in Gijón was fantastic, it was actually the first time since I arrived in Spain that wearing a jacket wasn’t necessary, and the warm sun was definitely welcomed. Gijón is supposed to have a really nice beach, but I wouldn’t know, because we never made it there. Instead, we decided to take advantage of the friendly and vibrant culture by hanging out in the streets and plazas all day with boxes full of bottles of cider with guitars and harmonicas in hand, singing songs and striking up conversations with the locals (especially the women, who are beautiful in Asturias).
Each day followed a similar routine: wake up around 1:30, eat lunch, start drinking around 3:00, play music and make up songs, and ultimately bar/club hop until about 5 am. This went on for three days and I must say it was one of the wildest and best weekends I have experienced in a long time. Now begins the countdown to Prague and Vienna for Easter.
Pics will be posted promptly
Last Friday was Father’s Day in Spain, a national holiday which gives everyone the day off of work and thus a three-day weekend. In order to take advantage of this, two American friends of mine, Matt Walsh and David McCoy, along with Matt’s American roommate Tom from Maine, and 11 of their Spanish friends decided to go to Gijón.
Gijón is a coastal city in the north of Spain located in the Asturius region and is famous for its apple cider, beaches, and partying all night in the streets and plazas. While drinking outside of bars is frowned upon and even against the law in some parts of the country, it is almost a necessity in Gijón because of the fashion in which one drinks the cider. You see, you have to pour about a sip’s worth at a time from the bottle into a glass from holding the bottle above your head, making for about a two and a half foot pour. This will ultimately result in missing the glass at times (especially as the night carries on), so it makes since that it’s encouraged to be drank in the streets instead of the bars.
After a successful Thursday night of introductions to both Matt’s Spanish friends and the cider culture, we hit a bit of a speed bump on Friday morning. You see, Matt and Tom, who teach English in Segovia, have expired visas and had forgotten their passports at home. In hostels, it is standard procedure for everyone checking in to produce an international ID of some sort if you are not a citizen of that particular country. When Matt and Tom had no proper documentation, the police were informed about their illegal status and brought them to the station. However, given that Spain is in a financial crisis and didn’t want to pay for their deportation, they were told that they have 2 weeks to return back to the States. Fortunately, they were released and thus able to spend the rest of the weekend with us.
The weather in Gijón was fantastic, it was actually the first time since I arrived in Spain that wearing a jacket wasn’t necessary, and the warm sun was definitely welcomed. Gijón is supposed to have a really nice beach, but I wouldn’t know, because we never made it there. Instead, we decided to take advantage of the friendly and vibrant culture by hanging out in the streets and plazas all day with boxes full of bottles of cider with guitars and harmonicas in hand, singing songs and striking up conversations with the locals (especially the women, who are beautiful in Asturias).
Each day followed a similar routine: wake up around 1:30, eat lunch, start drinking around 3:00, play music and make up songs, and ultimately bar/club hop until about 5 am. This went on for three days and I must say it was one of the wildest and best weekends I have experienced in a long time. Now begins the countdown to Prague and Vienna for Easter.
Pics will be posted promptly
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Civil Rights and Tasty Baby Lamb
As an appropriate follow-up to last week’s insight into the celebratory mentality of the Spanish population, a couple days ago was a national holiday for celebrating women in the workplace. I’m down with that; all of the female teachers got flowers, we all got pastries during break, and I got to say “congratulations” all day to each of them which is always a psychological mood-booster on a bitterly cold Monday.
Anyway, being that it was day for women to unite as one and celebrate their social status in the modern-day business world, the female teachers at my school all decided to go to lunch at the best restaurant in Autol. That is to say, among the best restaurants in the world. If all of the women were dining together in a non-male environment, then what did the men do for lunch, do you ask?
Well actually, we decided to have our own special lunch party, for men only. Good news: the principal of my school is a man, who happens to have a bodega (wine cellar) underneath his house. And when I say bodega, please don’t picture a modest little room. This was a two-century year old “man’s room” full of art, cultural antiques, local liquors and more bottles of wine you could imagine. The one room had more floor space than the Rent House. Anyway, being that it was day for women to unite as one and celebrate their social status in the modern-day business world, the female teachers at my school all decided to go to lunch at the best restaurant in Autol. That is to say, among the best restaurants in the world. If all of the women were dining together in a non-male environment, then what did the men do for lunch, do you ask?
So the 9 of us guys cracked open two, 2-liter crianza (aged) bottles of wine made in my principal’s village; it was one of the best wines I have had since arriving to Spain. Main course: grilled cordero-baby lamb, it wasn’t exactly terrible. Oh yeah, and this was followed by a round of shots of herbal liquor which it touted as being very good for the digestive process. We would have loved to continue with the lunch party, but we did still have two more hours of school to teach so we needed to get back to Autol.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Festival Fever
One of the great things about Spain is that the Spanish love to celebrate and have a good time. They will go to just about any length to find any excuse to party. As a whole Spanish people, despite their religious past (Inquisition, anyone?) are not very religious. In fact, I don’t think I have met one Spaniard in six months who claims to be a stern Catholic or even a religious individual in general. This has led me to conclude that in Spain, people don’t like to practice religion as much as they like to celebrate it.
By this, I mean that Spain has many festivals with traditional religious roots but currently carry very little religious significance; rather, it is an excuse to have a party. Think about the images that come into your mind when you imagine San Fermines, the biggest festival in Pamplona. This festival was originally meant to celebrate Saint Fermine, but has virtually turned into a week of debauchery for locals and international travelers alike, who only practice drinking wine all day and running away from bulls opposed to practicing creed. The fact is, the festival of San Fermine is just a macrocosm of what occurs throughout the country during the spring and summer.
Every city, town, and village, no matter how large or small, has at least two festivals every year. In fact, the town where I live, Autol, home to only roughly 4,000 habitants, enjoys three festivals annually (keep in mind that all local festivals involve bulls-whether it be bull runs or bull fights). And don’t begin to think that the series of local festivals occur at random; on the contrary they are very well coordinated to the extent that in a given region the festivals rarely overlap, but instead occur virtually every weekend for several months. That is to say, if one were so inclined one could attend a different festival in a different city/village/town every weekend for roughly 6 months out of the year.
This past weekend was the festival in Calahorra, a nearby town of about 20,000 people. I was fortunate enough to be invited to a show at the plaza de toros (bull ring) by some locals related to my landlords. I had seen a corrida in Pamplona last year, the well-known event where the bulls are killed by a matador with a sword, but this event was much different. It was not a 'bull fight' where they slay the bulls, but rather a competition among younger, less experienced toreros, men ranging from the ages of 18-26 or so. The way it works is that there are 12 teams of 2 people. One pair at a time, the toreros enter the bullring with only small silver rings in hand (no sword or spear). Once the bull is released, the pair has 3 minutes to try to put as many silvers rings on the horns of the bull as possible. This means getting very, very close to horns. One pair, comprising of a 19 year old and a 21 year old was unfortunate enough to get the rowdiest bull, who in only 3 minutes broke both arms of one contestant and the wrist of his partner, by slamming them into the wall. It was good fun.
Anyway, the point is, festival season has arrived in Spain and I’m loving it.
In other news, my friend David and I are planning a trip to Prague and Vienna for Easter week because we have a 10-day vacation. It should be a really good time, Prague is supposed to be a lot of fun and very cheap while Vienna is said to be among the most beautiful cities in the world. Also, Nick Shirley, who is living in Austria with his wife and teaching English like myself, is planning on meeting us in Vienna and showing us around. It’s a small world huh?
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Festival de San Blas
So this past weekend was a festival in Autol. There are several festivals in each of the Spanish cities and towns; in fact Autol, a village of 4,000, has 3 annually. Being used to a festival scene like Mardi Gras, I really wasn’t sure what to expect at first.
Friday night I figured I would take it easy. My friends Kelly, Martyna and Tom (from Canada, Canada and England, respectively) were planning on coming to Autol on Saturday, so I thought I ought to save my energy. My plan backfired.
I ended up going to a local bar around 10 to have a few drinks, however when I arrived and went to hang my coat up, someone in between me and the hanger offered to hang it for me. He looked like someone I knew, so I asked him what he was drinking, as to order him something when I went to the bar. Almost as soon as I realized that I had mistaken him for someone else, he thanked me and bought my drink, saying he had heard of the American who was living in his town. I soon noticed that his friends were friends of mine from Autol and they all invited me to their “Casa Blanca” for dinner. Although I had already eaten, I decided I shouldn’t pass the invitation up and told them I was down.
So they took me to this old mushroom factory on a hill on the outside of town, which provided a great view of Autol from above. Next to the factory is a house that about 15 friends have renovated and converted into somewhat of a ‘Rent House’, like Eddie’s. We bbq'd and drank til about 5 am, when someone that had to go back to Autol to work at a bar (because bars during festivals don’t close til about 9am) offered to give me a lift back.
The next morning I slept through the encierro (bull run) at noon, only to wake up at 3:30 and go to a bar for a coffee at 4:20 before the run at 5:00. I happened to run into a local who I know and he invited me to his home for the encierro because his house is actually situated in the main street of the run and the view is great. I wasn’t about to say no to the offer, however it made me feel obligated not to say no to the gin and beer he offered me to drink before and during the encierro, out of politeness, of course. It was very entertaining; I’ll post pics and vids soon.
So after the run, around 6:00, my friends from Calahorra arrived. And then the real party began. After a couple of bars we went back to my place and I treated them to burgers before heading out on the town. It was a fun night, ranging from chatting amongst ourselves at quiet pubs to being swarmed in bars (being the only foreigners in town) to dancing to horn bands in the street at 5am with my students and adults ranging from 30 to 70. We didn’t go to sleep til about 6:30. It was a blast.
However, the next night was the Superbowl, so I pulled another all-nighter in order to watch the game (which didn’t start til 1am in Spain) even though I had to go to school at 8am Monday morning. Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to stay awake. Congrats to the Saints, their fans, and LA. I wish I could have been there in person, but I was there in spirit.
Anyway, I have no plans of slowing down. This weekend is Carnival in Spain, just like it is Carnival in LA next week. So tomorrow I am going to Calahorra to find a costume and prepare myself for another weekend of mayhem.
Friday night I figured I would take it easy. My friends Kelly, Martyna and Tom (from Canada, Canada and England, respectively) were planning on coming to Autol on Saturday, so I thought I ought to save my energy. My plan backfired.
I ended up going to a local bar around 10 to have a few drinks, however when I arrived and went to hang my coat up, someone in between me and the hanger offered to hang it for me. He looked like someone I knew, so I asked him what he was drinking, as to order him something when I went to the bar. Almost as soon as I realized that I had mistaken him for someone else, he thanked me and bought my drink, saying he had heard of the American who was living in his town. I soon noticed that his friends were friends of mine from Autol and they all invited me to their “Casa Blanca” for dinner. Although I had already eaten, I decided I shouldn’t pass the invitation up and told them I was down.
So they took me to this old mushroom factory on a hill on the outside of town, which provided a great view of Autol from above. Next to the factory is a house that about 15 friends have renovated and converted into somewhat of a ‘Rent House’, like Eddie’s. We bbq'd and drank til about 5 am, when someone that had to go back to Autol to work at a bar (because bars during festivals don’t close til about 9am) offered to give me a lift back.
The next morning I slept through the encierro (bull run) at noon, only to wake up at 3:30 and go to a bar for a coffee at 4:20 before the run at 5:00. I happened to run into a local who I know and he invited me to his home for the encierro because his house is actually situated in the main street of the run and the view is great. I wasn’t about to say no to the offer, however it made me feel obligated not to say no to the gin and beer he offered me to drink before and during the encierro, out of politeness, of course. It was very entertaining; I’ll post pics and vids soon.
So after the run, around 6:00, my friends from Calahorra arrived. And then the real party began. After a couple of bars we went back to my place and I treated them to burgers before heading out on the town. It was a fun night, ranging from chatting amongst ourselves at quiet pubs to being swarmed in bars (being the only foreigners in town) to dancing to horn bands in the street at 5am with my students and adults ranging from 30 to 70. We didn’t go to sleep til about 6:30. It was a blast.
However, the next night was the Superbowl, so I pulled another all-nighter in order to watch the game (which didn’t start til 1am in Spain) even though I had to go to school at 8am Monday morning. Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to stay awake. Congrats to the Saints, their fans, and LA. I wish I could have been there in person, but I was there in spirit.
Anyway, I have no plans of slowing down. This weekend is Carnival in Spain, just like it is Carnival in LA next week. So tomorrow I am going to Calahorra to find a costume and prepare myself for another weekend of mayhem.
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