I have been dreading writing this post, because I know that when I do, it will mean that The Spanish Life is really over. Though I have enjoyed the blog, the nostalgia won't come from it, but rather from the real Spanish life; my life in Barcelona.
Upon deciding to study abroad, I knew that it was going to be life-changing, but I didn't really understand what that meant. I knew I would learn a lot, I would see things I had never imagined I would see, and I would find a part of myself that I never imagined existed, but my experience went so much further than that. To sum it all up, I think I finally found what it really means to be happy. Living in tiny apartment, with a shower that my own father wouldn't be able to stand in, without a dryer, without air conditioning, and saddest of all, without my family or my puppies, I was truly happier than I have ever been before, but why? Why here, without the people that I love the most, was I so happy and content? And I truly believe it was because at last, I finally let go and allowed myself to truly be me.
From the moment that I stepped off of the plane in Barcelona, I let go of everything that is constantly weighing me down at home. This was my chance to be exactly who I wanted to be, without expectations, responsibilities, or heavy baggage from the past; it was the most liberating thing I have ever felt. Home is wonderful, but inevitably I am a twenty year old girl who wants to impress, succeed, live up to expectations, be beautiful, fall in love, and be the best daughter and friend that I can be, but in Spain I let all of this go, and therefore came to realize that by letting the "demands" of life go, everything falls into place a little bit smoother, a little bit better, and life works so much better. It's all about faith. It's all about realizing that I am not in control.
Leaving Spain, I was terrified. I never thought that I was going to be that girl who cried herself to sleep the night before returning home because she was so afraid. Sad, and afraid. Don't get me wrong, I had been counting down the days until May 14 since about my second week there, nevertheless, I was absolutely terrified. I was terrified that when I left the two girls who knew me better in two months than anyone had ever known me before, that I was leaving that fun-loving, carefree part of me that I had found with them behind. I was scared that when I left my tiny, gross apartment, and the Spanish speaking streets, that I would lose the endurance and the motivation that allowed me to overcome such obstacles behind. I was scared that when I was back home, safe and loved, I would lose the confidence and the strength that I had worked so hard to find on my own.
Coming home, I have confronted some of the reality of some of these fears head on, however, I have also been pleasantly surprised by how much I truly do still love home, and how perfect life feels when I have my family by my side. I have been disappointed in the past three weeks by several things, from family members letting me down, to not being able to order wine at dinner anymore, but in the grand scheme of things, there is nowhere else I would rather be. I miss Spain, but I do not wish that I was still there, and though I have been tempted to fall back into the pressures of life at home, I now have the knowledge of how much better life is when you let them go as a constant reminder to what really matters in life. My family, my health, my strength, my freedom, my country.
When people told me that going abroad was going to be the best thing that would ever happen to me, I would politely nod my head and smile, while thinking "yah, yah...I wont change that much," but once again, they were right and I was wrong. Though I returned home craving the YMCA, Bread & Company, and Starbucks, and wanted nothing more than to snuggle on the couch with my puppies, I grew up in 4.5 months more than I ever imagined possible. And best of all, all the growth that I experienced while away, came home with me. I am a better person than I was when I left.
Sorry for the rant, I am just so happy that I did what I never truly believed I was capable of, and that I am now home and never have to leave again if I don't want to.
Thank you all for following my blog while I was gone, for loving me while I was across the world, and for not forgetting me like I greatly feared that you would.
All my love.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
My newest favorite...
It was a pretty hard goodbye... It was four in the morning, I had slept at the most 2.5 hours, and I was getting in the car to leave my parents at the Hotel Arts in Barcelona so that I could go on yet ANOTHER weekend adventure. Though I was guilty leaving a couple hours before they did, and I was sad to even say goodbye, there was one thing that was getting me through it... I was going to Florence.
A couple of weeks ago I went to Rome with some friends, and I absolutely loved it, therefore when I was trying to find a place to go for Spring Break, I couldn't resist going to Italy again. This time, however, rather than going to a huge city such as Rome, I decided to go to the quaint, quiet, peaceful city of Florence. Initially, being the loner that I like to be at times, I was planning on going on this three day adventure alone, but lucky for me, my dear friend Maggie asked if she could tag along. It turns out its much more fun with company.
Because we left at four in the morning, when our flight landed at about ten, all we wanted was a nice cozy bed and something to eat. We were greeted by a nice driver who took us to our hotel, then yet again at the the hotel by a sweet Italian man who, unfortunately, told us that our room would not be ready until one. Thank goodness that Daddy Rodes picked a nice hotel for me, because they then proceeded to offer us a breakfast spread and coffee in the lounge until our room was ready; we couldn't resist. So we enjoyed a nice, relaxed breakfast, and several pots of coffee until our room was ready, where we then took a nice long nap so that we would have adequate energy to go exploring.
After a nice rest, we went out to wander; my new favorite past time. We went to the main square, where we saw local artisans standing outside of Louis Vuitton and Cartier; we went to the market area where we saw all the tourist traps for "fake" quality Italian leather; and we then proceeded to get ourselves lost within in small cobble stone back streets on Florence, Italy. Everything about it was wonderful. The small artisan shops, the ancient bikes sitting unguarded by the wall, the pizzerias on every corner, and the beautiful Italian men. Most of all, however, were the Italian fashion boutiques, which truly got the best of me. I tried on and wanted everything, but knowing that this was a once in a life time chance to buy an Italian leather jacket, I bought only a select few items. Finally, it was time to head back to the hotel to enjoy a glass of wine and peanuts outside at the sidewalk café, then find a place for dinner.
Dinner was ok, though I wish we would have found a bistro rather than a tourist spot, and after sitting there for a couple of hours, talking, and complaining about the fact that bread in Italy doesn't have salt, we made our way back to the hotel, watched several episodes of Criminal minds, and called it a night.
Friday morning we woke up early, excited about the fact that the breakfast buffet was included at the hotel. After enjoying the beautiful spread, as well as some delicious coffee, we met our private tour guide in the lobby for a tour of historical Florence. She took us all the places that we never would have been able to get to alone. We went to the top of the tallest hotel to enjoy the incredible view, we went across the bridge to see the old neighborhoods, and then made it to the Churches, the outdoor sculpture museum, and finally to stand in the presence of Michelangelo's one of a kind David. It was an exhausting four hours of information overload, nevertheless, it truly made me capable of appreciating what all this city stood for besides a bunch of pasta, and the finest quality leather. With that being said, when the tour was over, we found a place that looked nice for lunch, where we enjoyed different pastas, then went back to the hotel for a much needed afternoon nap.
Though neither of us wanted to wake up, after sleeping for several hours, we wiped the sleep out of our eyes and made our way to the Picasso, Miró and Dalí exhibit across the street. Though I would prefer Page's art work over theirs any day, it was pretty cool to see the work of these incredible artists in person. Though its far from my taste, their talent was appreciated. We left the exhibit in search of a nice place to sit outside and maybe get a glass of wine, before going to dinner, however, stumbled upon yet another beautiful boutique that could not be resisted instead. After trying on many things several times, heart broken by the fact that we couldn't take the whole store home, we each landed upon a cute dress and decided it was time to go. We then went get wine at a very fun outdoor wine bar, then found a tiny local bistro for a wonderful dinner outside, in a small alley of Florence. It was like a movie. At one point three men walked up perfectly dressed, played us music on their violins and guitar, then guilted (is this a word) us out of our spare Euros... while at another, an older, homeless Italian man stood by our table, yelling at the sidewalk in Italian. It was truly an experience.
After dinner we had a tasty pastry spread in our hotel, and went to sleep.
Saturday, we woke up early to a nice buffet again, and met our next tour guide in the lobby. This day, however, it was not a history tour, but rather a personal shopping guide. I am not sure who she was expecting us to be, but she was definitely dressed to impress, wearing a Burberry jacket, Louis Vuitton scarf, and Gucci bag. Though impressed by her taste, these were not where I was interested in going, and chose instead the "Italian artisan tour." With her, we went on a tour of the best of the local artisan shops, which were hidden like treasures throughout the city. Though some were in the main square, some were tucked away in secret corners, and never would be found by a foreigner. Not only did she take us to her favorite secret spots, but she also took allowed us to avoid the "tourist prices" and spoke and bargained with the artists in Italian, helping us to get the best, and most reasonable prices. Thank goodness we had her. Not only did I love the shopping I was able to do, but what was equally as impressive and amazing was going in the back of the shop and watching them hand make the bags and jackets, or going into the local artists shop and watching him hand make the most beautiful mosaic landscapes. I was truly in heaven, yet again.
Clearly, after four hours of fun and excitement, we were exhausted, so we got a quick lunch across the street from our hotel, then habitually went back for an afternoon nap.
After sleeping for a while, we made our way back to the main square to purchase the local artists paintings that we had been eying for days, went to sweet bar for wine and cheese, then happily made our way to the restaurant we had excitedly made reservations at earlier in the weekend. Here, we had the best meal by far, and thoroughly enjoyed several hours of laughter. After dinner we made our way back to our hotel one last time, packed up our bags, and went to sleep in those comfy beds for a final night.
Though sad that we were either on a plane, or waiting out a long layover in Rome for the majority of Easter, rather than at home with our families, it was nice to have each other. And best of all, we were both equally excited to come to the conclusion that the next time we were on a plane, we would be going home.
Florence was wonderful, this whole experience has been wonderful, but I cannot wait to go back home.
A couple of weeks ago I went to Rome with some friends, and I absolutely loved it, therefore when I was trying to find a place to go for Spring Break, I couldn't resist going to Italy again. This time, however, rather than going to a huge city such as Rome, I decided to go to the quaint, quiet, peaceful city of Florence. Initially, being the loner that I like to be at times, I was planning on going on this three day adventure alone, but lucky for me, my dear friend Maggie asked if she could tag along. It turns out its much more fun with company.
Because we left at four in the morning, when our flight landed at about ten, all we wanted was a nice cozy bed and something to eat. We were greeted by a nice driver who took us to our hotel, then yet again at the the hotel by a sweet Italian man who, unfortunately, told us that our room would not be ready until one. Thank goodness that Daddy Rodes picked a nice hotel for me, because they then proceeded to offer us a breakfast spread and coffee in the lounge until our room was ready; we couldn't resist. So we enjoyed a nice, relaxed breakfast, and several pots of coffee until our room was ready, where we then took a nice long nap so that we would have adequate energy to go exploring.
After a nice rest, we went out to wander; my new favorite past time. We went to the main square, where we saw local artisans standing outside of Louis Vuitton and Cartier; we went to the market area where we saw all the tourist traps for "fake" quality Italian leather; and we then proceeded to get ourselves lost within in small cobble stone back streets on Florence, Italy. Everything about it was wonderful. The small artisan shops, the ancient bikes sitting unguarded by the wall, the pizzerias on every corner, and the beautiful Italian men. Most of all, however, were the Italian fashion boutiques, which truly got the best of me. I tried on and wanted everything, but knowing that this was a once in a life time chance to buy an Italian leather jacket, I bought only a select few items. Finally, it was time to head back to the hotel to enjoy a glass of wine and peanuts outside at the sidewalk café, then find a place for dinner.
Dinner was ok, though I wish we would have found a bistro rather than a tourist spot, and after sitting there for a couple of hours, talking, and complaining about the fact that bread in Italy doesn't have salt, we made our way back to the hotel, watched several episodes of Criminal minds, and called it a night.
Friday morning we woke up early, excited about the fact that the breakfast buffet was included at the hotel. After enjoying the beautiful spread, as well as some delicious coffee, we met our private tour guide in the lobby for a tour of historical Florence. She took us all the places that we never would have been able to get to alone. We went to the top of the tallest hotel to enjoy the incredible view, we went across the bridge to see the old neighborhoods, and then made it to the Churches, the outdoor sculpture museum, and finally to stand in the presence of Michelangelo's one of a kind David. It was an exhausting four hours of information overload, nevertheless, it truly made me capable of appreciating what all this city stood for besides a bunch of pasta, and the finest quality leather. With that being said, when the tour was over, we found a place that looked nice for lunch, where we enjoyed different pastas, then went back to the hotel for a much needed afternoon nap. 
Though neither of us wanted to wake up, after sleeping for several hours, we wiped the sleep out of our eyes and made our way to the Picasso, Miró and Dalí exhibit across the street. Though I would prefer Page's art work over theirs any day, it was pretty cool to see the work of these incredible artists in person. Though its far from my taste, their talent was appreciated. We left the exhibit in search of a nice place to sit outside and maybe get a glass of wine, before going to dinner, however, stumbled upon yet another beautiful boutique that could not be resisted instead. After trying on many things several times, heart broken by the fact that we couldn't take the whole store home, we each landed upon a cute dress and decided it was time to go. We then went get wine at a very fun outdoor wine bar, then found a tiny local bistro for a wonderful dinner outside, in a small alley of Florence. It was like a movie. At one point three men walked up perfectly dressed, played us music on their violins and guitar, then guilted (is this a word) us out of our spare Euros... while at another, an older, homeless Italian man stood by our table, yelling at the sidewalk in Italian. It was truly an experience.
After dinner we had a tasty pastry spread in our hotel, and went to sleep.
Saturday, we woke up early to a nice buffet again, and met our next tour guide in the lobby. This day, however, it was not a history tour, but rather a personal shopping guide. I am not sure who she was expecting us to be, but she was definitely dressed to impress, wearing a Burberry jacket, Louis Vuitton scarf, and Gucci bag. Though impressed by her taste, these were not where I was interested in going, and chose instead the "Italian artisan tour." With her, we went on a tour of the best of the local artisan shops, which were hidden like treasures throughout the city. Though some were in the main square, some were tucked away in secret corners, and never would be found by a foreigner. Not only did she take us to her favorite secret spots, but she also took allowed us to avoid the "tourist prices" and spoke and bargained with the artists in Italian, helping us to get the best, and most reasonable prices. Thank goodness we had her. Not only did I love the shopping I was able to do, but what was equally as impressive and amazing was going in the back of the shop and watching them hand make the bags and jackets, or going into the local artists shop and watching him hand make the most beautiful mosaic landscapes. I was truly in heaven, yet again.
Clearly, after four hours of fun and excitement, we were exhausted, so we got a quick lunch across the street from our hotel, then habitually went back for an afternoon nap.
After sleeping for a while, we made our way back to the main square to purchase the local artists paintings that we had been eying for days, went to sweet bar for wine and cheese, then happily made our way to the restaurant we had excitedly made reservations at earlier in the weekend. Here, we had the best meal by far, and thoroughly enjoyed several hours of laughter. After dinner we made our way back to our hotel one last time, packed up our bags, and went to sleep in those comfy beds for a final night.Though sad that we were either on a plane, or waiting out a long layover in Rome for the majority of Easter, rather than at home with our families, it was nice to have each other. And best of all, we were both equally excited to come to the conclusion that the next time we were on a plane, we would be going home.
Florence was wonderful, this whole experience has been wonderful, but I cannot wait to go back home.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
How lucky I am.
I absolutely couldn't focus on anything; the anticipation of seeing my precious father and step mother for the first time in 3.5 months was more than I could handle. Wednesday night, at my good friend's birthday party, I could think of nothing other than the fact that they were currently crossing the ocean in route to see me. Even worse, Thursday I couldn't skip classes, therefore I had to sit through hours of classes, knowing that they were waiting for me in a hotel a couple miles away. Absolutely awful.
After the longest day ever, I was finally free from school. Smiling ear to ear, and happier than I have been in months, flew out of Arcadia, and got a cab to The Hotel Arts. Apparently, my wonderful father and step mother had the same great idea as I did, and were planning to surprise me outside the hotel when I arrived. I, however, showed up early enough to beat them to the surprise, and made it to their hotel room door right as they were leaving to come await my arrival. That old familiar "CAROLINE," from Page, and "Punkin!" from my dad was truly music to my ears. The three of us embraced for a long long time, and honestly, I was a bit afraid that if I let go, I was going to lose them for months yet again.
"Just because things have changed, doesn't mean that anything is different."
The next hour was full of nothing but smiles, laughter, happiness, excitement, and all the wonderful things that I had expected. I am not going to lie, I was a bit nervous that things were going to be different when I saw them, I was afraid that I was going to have changed, they were going to have changed, or our relationships were going to have changed... but I was immediately reassured by the fact that 3.5 months later, it was as if I had seen them the day before. What a wonderful feeling.
After soaking up one another's presence for a bit, we set off to a tapas restaurant to eat dinner with my girls from the program. After hearing me talk about them constantly since the day I arrived, all of these girls were very excited about meeting the famous Daddy Rodes and Stepmother Page. They were hoping Rodes would bark at some strangers like I told them that he often does when very excited, or to hear Page's famous "CAROLINE," when I accidentally burp in public :) Not to my surprise, dinner was wonderful... and my parents and friends all loved each other. While my parents were impressed with the genuine friends that I have made in Spain, my new friends were impressed by the fact that my family was just as wonderful as I had described them to be. I was proud to introduce them all to each other.
After dinner, Page, my dad and myself headed back to The BEAUTIFUL Hotel Arts to get a good nights sleep in the apartment overlooking the water. First good nights sleep in a big bed by myself in forever... it was greatly appreciated.
We woke up pretty late that first morning together, enjoyed the fact that we were still in each other's presence, enjoyed some peace and quiet on the Club level over looking the Mediterranean, and then Page and I went to the gym while Rodes played/read on his coolest new toy-- the newest Ipad.
The next part of the day consisted of walking down by the water and enjoyed not only the beaches, but also the AMAZING Barcelona weather, watching the men (similar to the ones at my gym who are stuck 30 years in the past, wearing little to no clothing in order to show off their muscles) working out on the open air "gym"/playground right in the middle of the beach and getting a bit lost. Finally, after Rodes complaining of being "light headed because we were starving him," we made our way to my favorite restaurant by the beach for a nice meal outside.
Having been re-energized by a wonderful meal, we made our way to Raval, and the Gothic neighborhood of Barcelona. It is funny that what I find so beautiful and interesting within the Old Neighborhoods' winding small streets, old Roman buildings, and roads so tiny that a car cannot pass, Page and my dad found a bit creepy, and weren't quite as fond of... this is still my favorite part of Barcelona, nonetheless... And finally, we found our way out of the maze of stone buildings onto the touristy road, where I PROMISED them that we could find a Starbucks. First, however, I led them to the Catalan market, where I could truly show them how awful Catalunya's eating habits are... by showing them exactly what I mean when I say that they use EVERY part of the animal for cooking and eating... don't waste ONE BIT. Their reaction was similar to mine the first time I saw it... horror and shock simultaneously.
The last adventure of the day was a trip to my apartment, so that they could truly witness how I have been living the past few months... though I think they were pleasantly surprised by my porch, and maybe my sitting room, they were a bit shocked to find that what I had said about my "kitchen/laundry room," my "shower," and my itty bitty bedroom and my pathetic excuse of a "closet" was all true... and lastly were pretty impressed when I opened the window to get my clothes off of the drying rack. It was pretty amusing to see their reactions to the life I am living... And finally, after having gathered enough clothing for the rest of the week, we set off to have a wonderful dinner at a restaurant on the beach, then called it a night and went to bed early. How nice it was to have a real, big shower, and a comfy-cozy bed....and to go to sleep knowing Page and dad were right down the hall.
Saturday began the same, with breakfast and exercise, however, the rest of the day was spent in the main part of the city, where my day-to-day routine is played out, rather than down by the beach. I showed them the architecture of Gaudi, Dalí and Muntaner, which Barcelona is so famous for... I showed them my precious school building, which Rodes especially found absolutely beautiful... and I took them to my daily lunch spot (my Barcelona Bread and Company), for a healthy, organic lunch... followed by a visit to "Happy Pills," perhaps one of my favorite spots in Spain. Page and I were in heaven.
After lunch, Rodes escaped the madness of a Saturday in the city and went back to the peaceful hotel to read and plan the rest of our week, while Page and I shopped, had a much needed and missed coffee date at Starbucks, before returning to the hotel as well. Tonight, we had room service in the room, before going to bed EXTRA early in order to wake up at 6:00 to catch our flight to Malaga.
Malaga, a small city on the coast of Southern Spain, was absolutely wonderful. Here, we stayed in an incredible resort, The Marabella Club, where we enjoyed 3 days of nothing but lounging by the pool, exercising, eating semi-decent food (I miss American food), enjoying the Spa, and exploring the wonderful towns of Marabella. I must admit, however, my favorite part of all was sitting in the hotel with the two of them, ordering coffee, and playing cards just as we would have at home... Page was competitive as ever, Rodes was outrageous as ever... and I was laughing, getting frustrated, and loving every minute of each... Or perhaps it was laying in bed with the two of them, and convincing them to watch Criminal Minds with me (my latest obsession)... resulting in both of them loving it almost as much as I do. Each of these moments were equally wonderful.
Wednesday came too soon, and it was time to catch an early flight back to Barcelona. Once in Barcelona we stopped by my apartment one last time to pack one of my enormous suitcases to send home with them, stopped in our final stores... and then went back to the hotel. We had a wonderful final dinner together, along with my good friend Maggie, went back to the hotel and all four watched one last episode of Criminal Minds, then went to bed early... anticipating the 4:15 wake up call, which also meant it was time to say goodbye.
Waking up that morning, I was extremely excited about my next adventure to Florence with my dear friend Maggie, however, my sadness due to the fact that I had to say goodbye yet again got the best of me, and I couldn't help but let out a few tears. An absolutely unforgettable week was over, and the act of saying goodbye again was just too sad. How lucky I am to have two people that I love so much, and who make saying goodbye so so hard...
In twenty days I will be home.. sitting on the couch with the pups, knowing that Page is in the kitchen painting, or working on her Yoga "homework," that Rodes is across the room from me hogging the remote, or complaining about the "trash" Callie and I are watching. Tommy will be hiding in the kitchen with Page, or maybe silently sitting in the den with us, rolling his eyes at dad... while Christina is telling stories about all the kids she is saving... I will be soaking it all in, loving every minute of it, and waiting for Alli and Tavarres to walk in, in order to make my life complete. What a lucky girl I am. I cannot wait.
After the longest day ever, I was finally free from school. Smiling ear to ear, and happier than I have been in months, flew out of Arcadia, and got a cab to The Hotel Arts. Apparently, my wonderful father and step mother had the same great idea as I did, and were planning to surprise me outside the hotel when I arrived. I, however, showed up early enough to beat them to the surprise, and made it to their hotel room door right as they were leaving to come await my arrival. That old familiar "CAROLINE," from Page, and "Punkin!" from my dad was truly music to my ears. The three of us embraced for a long long time, and honestly, I was a bit afraid that if I let go, I was going to lose them for months yet again.
"Just because things have changed, doesn't mean that anything is different."
The next hour was full of nothing but smiles, laughter, happiness, excitement, and all the wonderful things that I had expected. I am not going to lie, I was a bit nervous that things were going to be different when I saw them, I was afraid that I was going to have changed, they were going to have changed, or our relationships were going to have changed... but I was immediately reassured by the fact that 3.5 months later, it was as if I had seen them the day before. What a wonderful feeling.After soaking up one another's presence for a bit, we set off to a tapas restaurant to eat dinner with my girls from the program. After hearing me talk about them constantly since the day I arrived, all of these girls were very excited about meeting the famous Daddy Rodes and Stepmother Page. They were hoping Rodes would bark at some strangers like I told them that he often does when very excited, or to hear Page's famous "CAROLINE," when I accidentally burp in public :) Not to my surprise, dinner was wonderful... and my parents and friends all loved each other. While my parents were impressed with the genuine friends that I have made in Spain, my new friends were impressed by the fact that my family was just as wonderful as I had described them to be. I was proud to introduce them all to each other.
After dinner, Page, my dad and myself headed back to The BEAUTIFUL Hotel Arts to get a good nights sleep in the apartment overlooking the water. First good nights sleep in a big bed by myself in forever... it was greatly appreciated.
We woke up pretty late that first morning together, enjoyed the fact that we were still in each other's presence, enjoyed some peace and quiet on the Club level over looking the Mediterranean, and then Page and I went to the gym while Rodes played/read on his coolest new toy-- the newest Ipad.
The next part of the day consisted of walking down by the water and enjoyed not only the beaches, but also the AMAZING Barcelona weather, watching the men (similar to the ones at my gym who are stuck 30 years in the past, wearing little to no clothing in order to show off their muscles) working out on the open air "gym"/playground right in the middle of the beach and getting a bit lost. Finally, after Rodes complaining of being "light headed because we were starving him," we made our way to my favorite restaurant by the beach for a nice meal outside.
Having been re-energized by a wonderful meal, we made our way to Raval, and the Gothic neighborhood of Barcelona. It is funny that what I find so beautiful and interesting within the Old Neighborhoods' winding small streets, old Roman buildings, and roads so tiny that a car cannot pass, Page and my dad found a bit creepy, and weren't quite as fond of... this is still my favorite part of Barcelona, nonetheless... And finally, we found our way out of the maze of stone buildings onto the touristy road, where I PROMISED them that we could find a Starbucks. First, however, I led them to the Catalan market, where I could truly show them how awful Catalunya's eating habits are... by showing them exactly what I mean when I say that they use EVERY part of the animal for cooking and eating... don't waste ONE BIT. Their reaction was similar to mine the first time I saw it... horror and shock simultaneously.
The last adventure of the day was a trip to my apartment, so that they could truly witness how I have been living the past few months... though I think they were pleasantly surprised by my porch, and maybe my sitting room, they were a bit shocked to find that what I had said about my "kitchen/laundry room," my "shower," and my itty bitty bedroom and my pathetic excuse of a "closet" was all true... and lastly were pretty impressed when I opened the window to get my clothes off of the drying rack. It was pretty amusing to see their reactions to the life I am living... And finally, after having gathered enough clothing for the rest of the week, we set off to have a wonderful dinner at a restaurant on the beach, then called it a night and went to bed early. How nice it was to have a real, big shower, and a comfy-cozy bed....and to go to sleep knowing Page and dad were right down the hall.Saturday began the same, with breakfast and exercise, however, the rest of the day was spent in the main part of the city, where my day-to-day routine is played out, rather than down by the beach. I showed them the architecture of Gaudi, Dalí and Muntaner, which Barcelona is so famous for... I showed them my precious school building, which Rodes especially found absolutely beautiful... and I took them to my daily lunch spot (my Barcelona Bread and Company), for a healthy, organic lunch... followed by a visit to "Happy Pills," perhaps one of my favorite spots in Spain. Page and I were in heaven.
Malaga, a small city on the coast of Southern Spain, was absolutely wonderful. Here, we stayed in an incredible resort, The Marabella Club, where we enjoyed 3 days of nothing but lounging by the pool, exercising, eating semi-decent food (I miss American food), enjoying the Spa, and exploring the wonderful towns of Marabella. I must admit, however, my favorite part of all was sitting in the hotel with the two of them, ordering coffee, and playing cards just as we would have at home... Page was competitive as ever, Rodes was outrageous as ever... and I was laughing, getting frustrated, and loving every minute of each... Or perhaps it was laying in bed with the two of them, and convincing them to watch Criminal Minds with me (my latest obsession)... resulting in both of them loving it almost as much as I do. Each of these moments were equally wonderful.
Wednesday came too soon, and it was time to catch an early flight back to Barcelona. Once in Barcelona we stopped by my apartment one last time to pack one of my enormous suitcases to send home with them, stopped in our final stores... and then went back to the hotel. We had a wonderful final dinner together, along with my good friend Maggie, went back to the hotel and all four watched one last episode of Criminal Minds, then went to bed early... anticipating the 4:15 wake up call, which also meant it was time to say goodbye.
Waking up that morning, I was extremely excited about my next adventure to Florence with my dear friend Maggie, however, my sadness due to the fact that I had to say goodbye yet again got the best of me, and I couldn't help but let out a few tears. An absolutely unforgettable week was over, and the act of saying goodbye again was just too sad. How lucky I am to have two people that I love so much, and who make saying goodbye so so hard...
In twenty days I will be home.. sitting on the couch with the pups, knowing that Page is in the kitchen painting, or working on her Yoga "homework," that Rodes is across the room from me hogging the remote, or complaining about the "trash" Callie and I are watching. Tommy will be hiding in the kitchen with Page, or maybe silently sitting in the den with us, rolling his eyes at dad... while Christina is telling stories about all the kids she is saving... I will be soaking it all in, loving every minute of it, and waiting for Alli and Tavarres to walk in, in order to make my life complete. What a lucky girl I am. I cannot wait.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Short and Sweet
Time is running down, and though I am thrilled, I am also beginning to realize just how wonderful this place is. While I was away in London, something happened here, and it has gone from an average city, to one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The weather is perfect. There is no humidity like in Nashshville, and its not hot and sweaty either, instead its about 75 degrees everyday, and I can't remember the last time I saw a cloud in the sky. The people on the street seem to have gone through a metamorphosis as well. Though they still wear scarves, and there is an occasional winter coat seen on the street, they are happier, and the slightest bit more friendly (still nothing compared to the Southern sweetness that I'm used to, but its improvement). The restaurants have all put tables and chairs outside, the flower shops have added the most beautiful displays on the streets (I treated myself to one this afternoon), and all the parks are full of children with sun kissed cheeks and full of giggles and happiness. Not to worry, Nashville remains and will remain my favorite place in the world, however, this (and London) are a close tie for second.
As a result of this change in not only the climate, but the entire city as well, I made the decision not to go on the day trip offered by my program on Friday, but to have a beautiful day by myself instead. My friends were a bit confused as to why I would rather spend the day alone, than with all of them, however, I am used to this confusion, and really wasn't too worried about it. The thought of my first day alone in weeks was actually what was getting me through the long week of school work and being angry about the fact that one of my classmates went into my bag while I was on a field trip, and took 175 euros out of my wallet. Though angry, it is a part of life, therefore, I continued on with the week.
Friday morning, when my room mate woke up to go catch the bus, I instead got dressed and started my day with the gym - to make me feel a little better in a bathing suit for the first time in months. After the gym, I raced home to change, packed a bag, and headed to the lay on the Barcelona beach for the first time. It was nothing like what I expected. It was like an entire different city within the city of Barcelona.
I walked up to the beach with nothing in mind, but the Destin beaches that I am used to; I didn't know any different. The first thing I noticed, however, is that the sand was hard (the beaches are man made from the last Olympics in Barcelona), and that there was very little room for me to lay out. So I found a little bubble of space to call my own, lay my towel down, used my bag as a pillow (this is a prime spot for pick pockets), put my head phones in and closed my eyes... After a few minutes of relaxing and loving the feeling of the sun on my pale skin, I opened my eyes, only to find that the woman laying next to me was completely nude except for a tiny, black, lace thong. I was horrified. So I sat up, and truly looked around for the first time, and noticed that about 25% of the women were nude as well. Not only were they laying out nude, but they were playing football, playing in the water, and taking pictures nude as well. A bit different from the South of the US.
It was at this moment that I decided to people watch, as well as take pictures (whoops). I sat up, and infront of me was an elderly couple laying out in rather strange attire. As I continued to look around, I continued to notice. There were men walking around selling "cold beers, fanta, cold water," and women walking around offering to making yummy mojitos for whoever asked. As I was about to shut my eyes and try and take it all in and digest what all I was seeing, I felt a small warm hand on my back, and then someone asking "quiero un masaje, guapa?" (would you like a massage, beautiful?) By the sound of the voice I knew it was not a man, however, I was not expecting that this hand belonged one of the MANY small Asian women who wander the beaches offering $5 massages to whoever may want one.
The beach was full of so much more life than I have ever seen at a beach, and though it may not have been preferable, it was extremely entertaining. So entertaining that I actually lost track of time, and ended up frying most of the skin from my body... to a point that I haven't done since I was on Spring Break in 4th grade.
I didn't realize how burnt I was until I was walking toward the metro on my way home that afternoon. Several elderly women on the metro gave were giving me "shame-on-you" glances, while several teenage boys looked at my bright red arms and legs and began to chuckle... Though my face was the only part of my body that didn't get burnt (I have learned to put adequate protection on at least that much), I am pretty sure it was bright red out of both humiliation at the sight of myself, as well as anger at myself for being so irresponsible.
Consequently, the rest of the night Friday was spent lathering myself with lotion, wearing my pajamas to avoid any rubbing on my skin, and laying on the couch with some girls to distract myself from feeling the burn... and then Saturday was spent in long sleeves at Museums, while all my friends were enjoying there time together at the beach... Hopefully I learned my lesson. Though I would have preferred to have been at the beach, one of the three museums I visited for my history class was actually extremely interesting. It was the History Museum of the City of Barcelona. I was expecting to see a bunch of artifacts, bones, weapons, tools, etc... found within the city, however, it was an excavated portion of the Roman city that was Barcelona, before Spain took control of the Iberian Peninsula, it was SO cool. I am far from a history buff, however, having the chance to go beneath the city that exists today, and walk around in the city that existed thousands of years ago was actually very neat.
By Saturday night I was feeling a bit more lively, though not ready to go out yet, therefore my dear friend Maggie and myself went to a sweet little restaurant that just opened across from her apartment. Little did we know, the man who owns the place just moved back from Maggie's home town, therefore gave us free Champagne, and then invited us to the "lounge" after dinner for free desserts. It is nice to be American girls sometimes.
Sunday, as per usual, was a day full of nothing but laying around, doing homework, getting coffee, and eating. The best part about Sunday, however, is that it was the start to the week that my sweet dad and step mom come to visit me. Words can not describe how excited I am about not only seeing a familiar face, but also seeing two of my most favorite faces in the world.
As a result of this change in not only the climate, but the entire city as well, I made the decision not to go on the day trip offered by my program on Friday, but to have a beautiful day by myself instead. My friends were a bit confused as to why I would rather spend the day alone, than with all of them, however, I am used to this confusion, and really wasn't too worried about it. The thought of my first day alone in weeks was actually what was getting me through the long week of school work and being angry about the fact that one of my classmates went into my bag while I was on a field trip, and took 175 euros out of my wallet. Though angry, it is a part of life, therefore, I continued on with the week.
Friday morning, when my room mate woke up to go catch the bus, I instead got dressed and started my day with the gym - to make me feel a little better in a bathing suit for the first time in months. After the gym, I raced home to change, packed a bag, and headed to the lay on the Barcelona beach for the first time. It was nothing like what I expected. It was like an entire different city within the city of Barcelona.
I walked up to the beach with nothing in mind, but the Destin beaches that I am used to; I didn't know any different. The first thing I noticed, however, is that the sand was hard (the beaches are man made from the last Olympics in Barcelona), and that there was very little room for me to lay out. So I found a little bubble of space to call my own, lay my towel down, used my bag as a pillow (this is a prime spot for pick pockets), put my head phones in and closed my eyes... After a few minutes of relaxing and loving the feeling of the sun on my pale skin, I opened my eyes, only to find that the woman laying next to me was completely nude except for a tiny, black, lace thong. I was horrified. So I sat up, and truly looked around for the first time, and noticed that about 25% of the women were nude as well. Not only were they laying out nude, but they were playing football, playing in the water, and taking pictures nude as well. A bit different from the South of the US.
It was at this moment that I decided to people watch, as well as take pictures (whoops). I sat up, and infront of me was an elderly couple laying out in rather strange attire. As I continued to look around, I continued to notice. There were men walking around selling "cold beers, fanta, cold water," and women walking around offering to making yummy mojitos for whoever asked. As I was about to shut my eyes and try and take it all in and digest what all I was seeing, I felt a small warm hand on my back, and then someone asking "quiero un masaje, guapa?" (would you like a massage, beautiful?) By the sound of the voice I knew it was not a man, however, I was not expecting that this hand belonged one of the MANY small Asian women who wander the beaches offering $5 massages to whoever may want one. 
The beach was full of so much more life than I have ever seen at a beach, and though it may not have been preferable, it was extremely entertaining. So entertaining that I actually lost track of time, and ended up frying most of the skin from my body... to a point that I haven't done since I was on Spring Break in 4th grade.I didn't realize how burnt I was until I was walking toward the metro on my way home that afternoon. Several elderly women on the metro gave were giving me "shame-on-you" glances, while several teenage boys looked at my bright red arms and legs and began to chuckle... Though my face was the only part of my body that didn't get burnt (I have learned to put adequate protection on at least that much), I am pretty sure it was bright red out of both humiliation at the sight of myself, as well as anger at myself for being so irresponsible.
Consequently, the rest of the night Friday was spent lathering myself with lotion, wearing my pajamas to avoid any rubbing on my skin, and laying on the couch with some girls to distract myself from feeling the burn... and then Saturday was spent in long sleeves at Museums, while all my friends were enjoying there time together at the beach... Hopefully I learned my lesson. Though I would have preferred to have been at the beach, one of the three museums I visited for my history class was actually extremely interesting. It was the History Museum of the City of Barcelona. I was expecting to see a bunch of artifacts, bones, weapons, tools, etc... found within the city, however, it was an excavated portion of the Roman city that was Barcelona, before Spain took control of the Iberian Peninsula, it was SO cool. I am far from a history buff, however, having the chance to go beneath the city that exists today, and walk around in the city that existed thousands of years ago was actually very neat.
By Saturday night I was feeling a bit more lively, though not ready to go out yet, therefore my dear friend Maggie and myself went to a sweet little restaurant that just opened across from her apartment. Little did we know, the man who owns the place just moved back from Maggie's home town, therefore gave us free Champagne, and then invited us to the "lounge" after dinner for free desserts. It is nice to be American girls sometimes.
Sunday, as per usual, was a day full of nothing but laying around, doing homework, getting coffee, and eating. The best part about Sunday, however, is that it was the start to the week that my sweet dad and step mom come to visit me. Words can not describe how excited I am about not only seeing a familiar face, but also seeing two of my most favorite faces in the world.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Best. One. Yet.
We arrived at the Sloan Club, the hotel that my grandparents kindly provided us for the weekend, at about 2:30. We had to ring a door bell to enter, and then were escorted to our English "flat;" an apartment in the Sloan Club Suites section. It was wonderful, old English. The floors creaked when we walked, the paintings on the walls were classics, the ceilings were low, and the closets were big; I felt as though I was truly living the old English way. I slept wonderfully that first night in my English flat.
Friday morning we woke up early, anxious to discover all the hidden gems of London. As my friend, Maggie, and myself left our flat we discovered what the darkness had hidden from us the night before, we were placed right in the middle of Chelsea. I had heard about Chelsea, but you truly have to see it to believe its beauty. As we walked down the road we were literally speechless, both of us trying to do nothing more than take it all in. From the beautiful English cottages, to the finely dressed children racing by on their scooters, screaming in their precious English accent, I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. So I just kept walking, and that is when it only got better; we came to the Chelsea shopping area, only a block from our apartment. Though entering the store would cause heartbreak over wanting everything that I couldn't have, it was simply enough just to see all of my favorite designers at once, in Chelsae, London. And for once, it was not only the accessories that I loved, the fashion that I saw here was unlike any that I have ever seen before.
Once we had recovered, we found a Starbucks (which finally tasted normal, the one in Barcelona is awful), and ventured down to the tube to meet up with our friends. I thought the Barcelona metro was an experience, but it is nothing compared to the London tube. It was tiny, crowded, and entirely to old to truly be safe. We went twice as fast as an metro I have yet to be on, and it honestly felt as though we were about to come unhinged and hit the walls. My eyes were closed and covered the whole time, until finally we reached the Picadilly Circus stop, which would take us to the Soho area. Here, we met our friends who were shopping, and found the best lunch spot that I have had since leaving the United States. Not only was the food fresh, but there was also a Tailor made Salad Bar :) FINALLY!
Once fed and happy, we headed for the Buckingham Palace. It was absolutely beautiful. All I could think about, however, was how they keep the Queen safe. With all the tourists around, all the commotion surrounding the place, I just could not imagine that she could honestly stay there and be or feel safe. But I guess its not my job to figure all of that out. Thank goodness. From here, we walked to see Westminster's Chapel and Big Ben, then headed across the bridge to the London Eye.
Once we got off, I begged everyone to go to the London Horror House with me, but after telling me that I was absolutely insane, they all said no. I wasn't going to go alone. So instead we went to a little Waffle stand and got Dessert Waffles and Chocolate covered Strawberry cups... which made up for not getting to go in the Horror House.
So that was over, we went to a wonderful restaurant for dinner, then went to get ready to go out. Going out consisted of going to the bar below the hostel that some of our friends were staying at, going to KFC, then going back to the Sloan Club... we didn't make it to the wild side of London Friday night.
After about an hour, our legs were exhausted from the foot pedaling, and therefore returned the boat, and went to the cafe on the lake for a lunch of Fish and Chips. The day couldn't have gotten any better.
After lunch Maggie and I went to take our boat ride, while the others went to Abbey Road. We didn't see much that we hadn't seen before, however, being on the boat, and on the river was great. It wasnt long, but we got to listen to a cute boy talk in a cute English accent, while seeing the sights along the river, and it was great as well as exhausting. Therefore once it was over, we hailed a cab back to the hotel with the intentions of taking a thirty minute nap then wandering a little more, however, ended up sleeping for two and a half hours.
We woke up at seven a bit flustered after having slept so long, quickly got ready to avoid wasting the night, then hailed a cab to go pick up our friends at their hostel and make our way to Camedon; my absolute favorite part. I am not sure why I am so attracted to areas such as these, but I was at my prime while here. To our left there would be a gang of what looked like bikers with long hair and tattoos, and while to our right there would be the most finely dressed English women we had yet to see. There were teenagers, and older couples; sketchy bars, and classy restaurants; creepy alleys, and trees by a pond covered in Christmas lights. I just wanted to stay forever.Here, we found an amazing restaurant/bar that was absolutely PACKED and ate our body weight in food, while watching some older women hit on boys who were half their age. After dinner and some wine we went outside, crossed the precious bridge covered in Christmas lights, and went to the club/bar on the other side. Here we at last, unlike in Barcelona, we had the chance to dance, go to the bar, and have an amazing time without having to worry about creepy men coming onto us or invading our personal space. It was an amazing night of laughter, dancing, and fun to end a wonderful weekend. When it was time, we took a cab back to the hotel, for our last wonderful nights sleep in the Sloan Club.
Sunday, we left and went back to Barcelona. Though I was extremely sad to leave my new favorite spot in Europe, I was happy to be back at my home in Barcelona... and begin the count down until my wonderful dad and step mother get here... 8 DAYS!!!!
Love you all, miss you all, and cannot wait to see you in 39 days!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Home comes to visit
So the moment I got home from Mallorca last Sunday, I raced to my apartment to put some clothes in the wash, threw some more in a bag, then ran out the door to go find my MAMA! Too impatient to walk, I took a cab to her hotel, asked the man at the front desk what room she was in (IN SPANISH) then took the elevator to room 502 of the BEAUTIFUL Hotel Majestic. From the moment the elevator doors opened, I could smell her familiar smell of Chanel perfume, and here her high-pitched voice on the phone, talking to God knows who. I stood outside her door for a moment, just soaking in the sheer joy and excitement of this moment, then knocked loudly several times. Immediately she set down the phone, ran to the door, and enveloped me in the familiar Mommy hug. What an unforgettable moment that was...and that moment was also the start to a VERY unforgettable week full of highs and lows, however, overall the most BEAUTIFUL memories I have yet to make with my dear Mom.
After digesting the excitement of having my Mom in Barcelona, I let go of her, and entered the room only to find another WONDERFUL surprise: a bunch of my favorite American candy scattered across the room...doesn't get any better than that. I ate some starburst, some sweet tarts, and of course, opened a blow pop, then told her it was time to gather her things and go see my apartment. The whole mile there, we walked, talked, giggled, and enjoyed the excitement of being together again. Upon entering my apartment, my mother was completely shocked. Though my bedroom was better than she had expected, and she loved my balcony, my washing machine in the kitchen, and shower situation was much worse that she had expected... nevertheless, she photographed the entire thing.
We put my clothes on the clothes line, Mama was shocked that I didn't have a dryer and had been air drying my clothes, went and got dinner, then snuggled up in our cozy hotel bed for the night.
I skipped class Monday to spend the day with my mom, therefore we decided the that first and foremost we needed to walk down Las Ramblas and end up at the beach. Although Las Ramblas is so my mom's cup of tea, I was trying to steer clear of the "pick pocketers" and tourist commotion, so we power walked down the street :). Immediately when we made it to the water, we spied a boat, and decided that we needed to take a touristy boat ride. It was absolutely amazing. I have yet to see the beach, the city, the skyline, the entire Barcelona from the outside, and it was so much more wonderful than I imagined. And sharing this view with my Mama, who was 10x more enthusiastic about it than I was, was perfect.
After the boat ride, we took the metro in search of a hair salon, got lost, and ended up at a make up and perfume store instead... we did so well that we were exhausted and in need of a nap. Once we got back to the hotel, however, I was miraculously rejuvenated and went to take advantage of the very nice workout facilities while mama slept. The rest of the night consisted of going to get my clothes from the line outside due to a fear of rain, and eating tapas at a sweet restaurant near the hotel. Then going back to the hotel to struggle while trying to find English TV and getting so frustrated that we just called it a night.
Tuesday, I had a full day of classes, thus Sarah was left to be independent until 6:15. I was a bit worried, but she made it alright, and I met her for dinner, then we went back to the hotel and she made a necklace (she would bring her beads) while I did homework.
Wednesday, also, began with my having to attend classes, then us meeting up to go get hair cuts, YAY! We went to a hair salon that I had found several days before, and got hair cuts and treatments by the two sweetest, most flamboyant guys ever. They not only managed to give us wonderful haircuts and treatments, but also upped our self-confidence ten-fold with all of their kind words and compliments. It wasn't until we were paying that the owner - who did my hair - showed me his look book, complete with pictures of him doing Miss America's hair, Miss Inter-continental's hair, and much much more... the only way I found him was by searching English speaking hair stylists in Barca.... lucky me :) And that was the highlight of our day... which was followed by room service and an early nights sleep.
Thursday, as everyone warned me would eventually happen, we experienced our disaster.... Mom's wallet was stolen while at the antique jewelry flea market (where else would we be!)... It was sososo sad... and I was frustrated to tears, however, my strong Mother handled it so beautifully... the rest of our afternoon, however, was dedicated to canceling all her credit cards, and trying to figure out how to get more money. When it was all worked out, we returned to the flea market with what little cash we had left in the safe in our room, and bought ourselves some jewels as rewards for the tough day!
Friday morning we woke up pretty early, exercised, got lunch, shopped a little, then headed off to the tour bus that was headed to Mt. Sarrat. The ride up the mountain, in the gigantic tour bus was pretty terrifying... my eyes were closed the majority of the time, however, once we arrived to the top, it was totally worth it. The mountains were so much more beautiful than I had anticipated, the Basilica at the top was absolutely breath-taking, and the views of the city were unlike any that I had yet to see in Barcelona. The best part of all though, was my mom's reaction. She was absolutely in love. Every few steps, we had to stop and take another picture. Every time I was amazed by something, it absolutely took her breath away. Her enthusiasm made the experience so much more monumental. But then it was time to go back down, and without fail, one of us had to get carsick... thank goodness it was her and not me (sorry Mama :) ) We ended the day at my FAVORITE Spanish version of Bread and Company... and though it doesn't even begin to compare to my wonderful custom made salad full of feta and nuts, the home made salad and vegetables taste SO good in a city where the norm is bread, potatoes, and meat.
Saturday, our last day together, we of course had to do the activity that Mama was most excited about: the tour bus, where you ride around the city up top in the open air seating. We got off at the Sagrada Familia (beautiful), the mall (shopping for ourselves and the fam in the States was a necessity), and her favorite Park Guell. This park, created by Barcelona's well-known Gaudi, gave mom the perfect scenery in which she could take pictures of all of her favorite things together: flowers, parrots, beautiful views, pink buildings, and Spanish tiles. Though I was getting a bit antsy, I found my inner patience in order to watch her in her prime.
Early Sunday morning she left me, it was heart-breaking. Watching her get in the cab, headed back home to all the people we both love the most, after a week of wonderful quality time, all I wanted to do was to jump on the plane with her. Tears running down my cheeks, I mustered up the strength to get in my own cab, however, and head back to my wonderful little apartment, and continue this great adventure. Of all the obstacles I have faced while here, watching her head back home, knowing I wouldn't be doing the same for seven more weeks was without a doubt the hardest, yet I know that it is all worth it. I have now gotten back into my routine, made my way back into the little Barcelona family I have made here, and once again become excited about the beautiful seven weeks I have left. I cannot believe how quickly time flies.
I am off to London this weekend, for yet another outstanding adventure, and I cannot wait to tell you all about it. I miss my people, my home, AND MY ANIMALS, more than you will ever know... and I cannot wait to come home and share with you all the ways in which I have grown throughout these 17 weeks.
See you all VERY soon. And love you all VERYVERY much!
After digesting the excitement of having my Mom in Barcelona, I let go of her, and entered the room only to find another WONDERFUL surprise: a bunch of my favorite American candy scattered across the room...doesn't get any better than that. I ate some starburst, some sweet tarts, and of course, opened a blow pop, then told her it was time to gather her things and go see my apartment. The whole mile there, we walked, talked, giggled, and enjoyed the excitement of being together again. Upon entering my apartment, my mother was completely shocked. Though my bedroom was better than she had expected, and she loved my balcony, my washing machine in the kitchen, and shower situation was much worse that she had expected... nevertheless, she photographed the entire thing.We put my clothes on the clothes line, Mama was shocked that I didn't have a dryer and had been air drying my clothes, went and got dinner, then snuggled up in our cozy hotel bed for the night.
After the boat ride, we took the metro in search of a hair salon, got lost, and ended up at a make up and perfume store instead... we did so well that we were exhausted and in need of a nap. Once we got back to the hotel, however, I was miraculously rejuvenated and went to take advantage of the very nice workout facilities while mama slept. The rest of the night consisted of going to get my clothes from the line outside due to a fear of rain, and eating tapas at a sweet restaurant near the hotel. Then going back to the hotel to struggle while trying to find English TV and getting so frustrated that we just called it a night.
Tuesday, I had a full day of classes, thus Sarah was left to be independent until 6:15. I was a bit worried, but she made it alright, and I met her for dinner, then we went back to the hotel and she made a necklace (she would bring her beads) while I did homework.
Wednesday, also, began with my having to attend classes, then us meeting up to go get hair cuts, YAY! We went to a hair salon that I had found several days before, and got hair cuts and treatments by the two sweetest, most flamboyant guys ever. They not only managed to give us wonderful haircuts and treatments, but also upped our self-confidence ten-fold with all of their kind words and compliments. It wasn't until we were paying that the owner - who did my hair - showed me his look book, complete with pictures of him doing Miss America's hair, Miss Inter-continental's hair, and much much more... the only way I found him was by searching English speaking hair stylists in Barca.... lucky me :) And that was the highlight of our day... which was followed by room service and an early nights sleep.Thursday, as everyone warned me would eventually happen, we experienced our disaster.... Mom's wallet was stolen while at the antique jewelry flea market (where else would we be!)... It was sososo sad... and I was frustrated to tears, however, my strong Mother handled it so beautifully... the rest of our afternoon, however, was dedicated to canceling all her credit cards, and trying to figure out how to get more money. When it was all worked out, we returned to the flea market with what little cash we had left in the safe in our room, and bought ourselves some jewels as rewards for the tough day!
Friday morning we woke up pretty early, exercised, got lunch, shopped a little, then headed off to the tour bus that was headed to Mt. Sarrat. The ride up the mountain, in the gigantic tour bus was pretty terrifying... my eyes were closed the majority of the time, however, once we arrived to the top, it was totally worth it. The mountains were so much more beautiful than I had anticipated, the Basilica at the top was absolutely breath-taking, and the views of the city were unlike any that I had yet to see in Barcelona. The best part of all though, was my mom's reaction. She was absolutely in love. Every few steps, we had to stop and take another picture. Every time I was amazed by something, it absolutely took her breath away. Her enthusiasm made the experience so much more monumental. But then it was time to go back down, and without fail, one of us had to get carsick... thank goodness it was her and not me (sorry Mama :) ) We ended the day at my FAVORITE Spanish version of Bread and Company... and though it doesn't even begin to compare to my wonderful custom made salad full of feta and nuts, the home made salad and vegetables taste SO good in a city where the norm is bread, potatoes, and meat.
Early Sunday morning she left me, it was heart-breaking. Watching her get in the cab, headed back home to all the people we both love the most, after a week of wonderful quality time, all I wanted to do was to jump on the plane with her. Tears running down my cheeks, I mustered up the strength to get in my own cab, however, and head back to my wonderful little apartment, and continue this great adventure. Of all the obstacles I have faced while here, watching her head back home, knowing I wouldn't be doing the same for seven more weeks was without a doubt the hardest, yet I know that it is all worth it. I have now gotten back into my routine, made my way back into the little Barcelona family I have made here, and once again become excited about the beautiful seven weeks I have left. I cannot believe how quickly time flies.
I am off to London this weekend, for yet another outstanding adventure, and I cannot wait to tell you all about it. I miss my people, my home, AND MY ANIMALS, more than you will ever know... and I cannot wait to come home and share with you all the ways in which I have grown throughout these 17 weeks.
See you all VERY soon. And love you all VERYVERY much!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The beach at last...
Last week was a long, hard, stressful week. From the uncharacteristic, and never-ending rain that may have ruined my toms, to spending countless hours looking at art-history slides, Spanish vocabulary, Catalan History dates, etc... in preparation for Mid-terms, come Friday I was exhausted. Not only was I exhausted, but I was also extremely anxious to get out of my apartment after having been cooped up studying, and dying to relax in the sun after having been running in the rain for a week. Mallorca was the answer to this pitiful week.
Thank goodness I had the idea a few weeks back to plan a trip to the beach after Mid-terms; at the time I had no idea just how grateful I would be. Come the end of my last exam Friday afternoon, however, I was jumping out of my skin... all I wanted was the beach. Because our taxi was arriving at 4:00 am, in order to make the 5:50 flight, three of the four us made the "wise" decision not to go to sleep beforehand. Sadly enough, despite our attempts at playing "truth or dare" minus the "dare," listening to music, watching TV shows, and eating tons of candy, being the pathetic college students that we are, we only made it to 2:30. At 2:30 I snuggled up in the twin bed with Maggie, while Nicki was in the other bed, and thoroughly enjoyed an hour and a half nap, that seemed to only make me more exhausted. Nevertheless, we woke up, made it to the airport, and survived another TERRIFYING flight (terrifying to the point that the passengers applauded when we safely made it to the ground), making it to Mallorca at 7:30 in the morning.
I had no idea what to expect from Mallorca, however, upon arriving I was absolutely thrilled. Being a small island off the coast of Spain, I immediately found all I needed: salty air, an ocean, palm trees, sand, and a pretty iffy hostel to sleep in. Lucky for us, it was about 9 am when we reached the hostel, therefore we had the time to take a nap before beginning our day. Though we probably could have slept all day, we set out to find food, the ocean and the sunshine.
After a quick lunch at a small café, we found the water. Although we had yet to find the beach, we just couldn't resist laying on the boat dock, and soaking in the sun. It was about time for a nice sun burn :)
After "laying out," napping a bit more, and singing along to our ipods, we decided it was time to continue our exploration, and took a taxi to what we believed was going to be an entertaining area of Mallorca. Once we arrived, however, we discovered that 90% of the shops had gone out of business, and that we should call our taxi driver and ask her to come back - thank God she was sweet enough to give us her card. While waiting, we got Ben & Jerry's out of pure excitement that they had it in Spain, wandered a bit, watched some kids play on the carousel, and headed back to where we were to meet the driver. Sadly enough, after the small adventure, we were desperate for another nap, and headed back to the hostel for "snuggle time."
After prying ourselves out of bed for the second time that day, we enjoyed a nice Italian dinner (only thing we could find), then called it an early night.
Saturday morning, we woke up early and set off to find some coffee and croissants. After filling our bellies, we headed up the mountain to experience the BEAUTIFUL castle, and the breath taking views that it provided. We spent a while just walking around in complete awe, unable to comprehend how such beauty existed, and why it wasn't appreciated more often. Seeing the beach, next to the mountains, with a warm sun shining above them both is officially my favorite. There is nothing with which you can compare such beauty.
Finally, we pried ourselves off of the mountain, in order to make it to the boat ride we so badly wanted to take. It started pretty sourly, when my favorite pink, Juicy sunglasses were stolen from right in front of my closed eyes. As I was waiting for the boat I decided to sunbathe, only to discover that for the few minutes that my eyes were closed, a sneaky thief stole my glasses, which put a damper to the beginning of the ride, however, it soon got better. Not only was I able to have two conversations with strangers in clear Spanish, but then I also got to enjoy Sangria, sunshine, laughter, and the ocean with my favorite girls. And though the "captain" asked if we wanted another free ride because we were entertaining, we turned him down, and went to eat lunch on the water.
The rest of the day consisted of a short shopping spree to find more sunglasses for my burning eyes, another nap/snuggle time, then a second dinner with our favorite waiter at the same Italian restaurant as the night before. Once stuffed, we went next door to receive the free drinks we were promised at a small bar, only to find the free drink was a bribing tactic to bring in more customers... we had the ENTIRE bar/dance floor/ etc... to ourselves for the night :) Though pathetic, it was actually pretty fun and got us tired enough to enjoy another wonderful nights rest in the hostel (after of course, getting to talk to Tavarres on Skype, YAY!!)
Sunday, it was time to go home... or I guess not home, but rather my current home away from home. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by my excitement to return to Barcelona, despite the fun I had on my travels. This one definitely was the most relaxing, and "rejuvenating," full of sleep and sun-bathing, rather than exploring and sight-seeing, nevertheless it was the beach, and it was wonderful.
I am truly amazed that there are only 7 weeks left until I am back at home with you guys. I say that each week, but I think it just keeps flying by a little faster each day. I miss and love ALL OF YOU dearly, and grow more appreciative of you with each communication struggle I have, rude person I encounter, feeling of fear and confusion that I feel... and will be happy to be back in the States when it is time.
All my love.
Thank goodness I had the idea a few weeks back to plan a trip to the beach after Mid-terms; at the time I had no idea just how grateful I would be. Come the end of my last exam Friday afternoon, however, I was jumping out of my skin... all I wanted was the beach. Because our taxi was arriving at 4:00 am, in order to make the 5:50 flight, three of the four us made the "wise" decision not to go to sleep beforehand. Sadly enough, despite our attempts at playing "truth or dare" minus the "dare," listening to music, watching TV shows, and eating tons of candy, being the pathetic college students that we are, we only made it to 2:30. At 2:30 I snuggled up in the twin bed with Maggie, while Nicki was in the other bed, and thoroughly enjoyed an hour and a half nap, that seemed to only make me more exhausted. Nevertheless, we woke up, made it to the airport, and survived another TERRIFYING flight (terrifying to the point that the passengers applauded when we safely made it to the ground), making it to Mallorca at 7:30 in the morning.
I had no idea what to expect from Mallorca, however, upon arriving I was absolutely thrilled. Being a small island off the coast of Spain, I immediately found all I needed: salty air, an ocean, palm trees, sand, and a pretty iffy hostel to sleep in. Lucky for us, it was about 9 am when we reached the hostel, therefore we had the time to take a nap before beginning our day. Though we probably could have slept all day, we set out to find food, the ocean and the sunshine.After a quick lunch at a small café, we found the water. Although we had yet to find the beach, we just couldn't resist laying on the boat dock, and soaking in the sun. It was about time for a nice sun burn :)
After "laying out," napping a bit more, and singing along to our ipods, we decided it was time to continue our exploration, and took a taxi to what we believed was going to be an entertaining area of Mallorca. Once we arrived, however, we discovered that 90% of the shops had gone out of business, and that we should call our taxi driver and ask her to come back - thank God she was sweet enough to give us her card. While waiting, we got Ben & Jerry's out of pure excitement that they had it in Spain, wandered a bit, watched some kids play on the carousel, and headed back to where we were to meet the driver. Sadly enough, after the small adventure, we were desperate for another nap, and headed back to the hostel for "snuggle time." 
After prying ourselves out of bed for the second time that day, we enjoyed a nice Italian dinner (only thing we could find), then called it an early night.
Saturday morning, we woke up early and set off to find some coffee and croissants. After filling our bellies, we headed up the mountain to experience the BEAUTIFUL castle, and the breath taking views that it provided. We spent a while just walking around in complete awe, unable to comprehend how such beauty existed, and why it wasn't appreciated more often. Seeing the beach, next to the mountains, with a warm sun shining above them both is officially my favorite. There is nothing with which you can compare such beauty. Finally, we pried ourselves off of the mountain, in order to make it to the boat ride we so badly wanted to take. It started pretty sourly, when my favorite pink, Juicy sunglasses were stolen from right in front of my closed eyes. As I was waiting for the boat I decided to sunbathe, only to discover that for the few minutes that my eyes were closed, a sneaky thief stole my glasses, which put a damper to the beginning of the ride, however, it soon got better. Not only was I able to have two conversations with strangers in clear Spanish, but then I also got to enjoy Sangria, sunshine, laughter, and the ocean with my favorite girls. And though the "captain" asked if we wanted another free ride because we were entertaining, we turned him down, and went to eat lunch on the water.
Sunday, it was time to go home... or I guess not home, but rather my current home away from home. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by my excitement to return to Barcelona, despite the fun I had on my travels. This one definitely was the most relaxing, and "rejuvenating," full of sleep and sun-bathing, rather than exploring and sight-seeing, nevertheless it was the beach, and it was wonderful.
I am truly amazed that there are only 7 weeks left until I am back at home with you guys. I say that each week, but I think it just keeps flying by a little faster each day. I miss and love ALL OF YOU dearly, and grow more appreciative of you with each communication struggle I have, rude person I encounter, feeling of fear and confusion that I feel... and will be happy to be back in the States when it is time.
All my love.
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