Day 52- loquacious \loh-KWAY-shuhs\, adjective:

(Dictionary.com word of the day, as used in a sentence:)
I realize that my recent posts have been a little loquacious, so I´ll try to keep this shorter for you busy folk.

Last night:
Great flamenco show with an interesting Indian music accompaniment.
Met up with Lauren and Clair again and went to a bar where everyone (mostly locals) stood outside at little tables on the sidewalk. We even had a little impromtu flamenco singing performance from some guys we met there who are in a band. Clair captured it on video...nice!

Today:
Packed bag which gained about 10kilos in two days as a result of dumpster diving (you´ll see when I get home).
Train Station-guy was so slow making our reservation that we just walked away from the counter 4 minutes before its departure (arrived with 20+ min to spare) and boarded the train, then hid out in the (luckily large and clean)bathroom-all three of us- to avoid being found out and fined. Hannah read to us, and at one point, a lady opened the door, and with a shocked/amused laugh, closed it again. Eventually, we took a seat and were never asked for our tickets. Stow-aways!
Granada around 3pm, through Arabic shop area to get to our "Oasis," which is an awesome 15EUR/night place with free breakfast, internet, cheap meals, bar, free coffee/tea, and more. One of the best deals yet.
Hostel receptionist from Sweden, Maddie, was really cool and joined us for a 3 course meal with drink and dessert at a Chinese restaurant for > 5 EUR.

Who knows what´s in store for tonight. Tomorrow: Alhambra, which is very beautiful and comparable to the Alcazar in Seville, from what I´ve heard.

Day 51- Hablo un poquito Espanol.

But as many times as you say it, the Sevillans continue their conversation with-or without-you. It´s really quite funny, and I continue to try to learn more.

Regardless, Sevilla is incredible. We arrived by bus from Carmona yesterday morning and found a hotel through an agency in the train station. It´s cheap and in a good location on a little tiny back alley/sidewalk floored with stones and lined with old plaster sided buildings built to human-scale.
Yesterday, Asli went her own way for most of the day and Hannah and I stuck together, all agreeing to meet back up at 7pm. Hannah and I stopped into a few little churches on the way, all very ornately decorated with intricate ceilings (plaster and gold leaf), three-dimensional free-standing Catholic sculptures, and coin-operated electric candles. Although the streets meet in interesting intersections and do not follow much of a grid, I´ve found it very easy to navigate with a map, and even without one by the end of the day. Our first big stop was the Catedral, which is the third largest next to St. Peter´s in Rome and another in London. It was only 1.50 to get inside, and very well worth the time. They had a sculpture and painting museum in the front, a treasury on the side, and a garden filled with orange trees (very prevalent in this region) boardering one side. Inside the cathedral itself, very high rib-vaulted ceilings soar over your head. There are about 12 individual chapels within the church itself, and each one is decorated with painting and sculpture which you have to observe on the other side of an iron gate. By far the highlight of the visit was climbing to the top of the tower, which provides a spectacular view of the city in all directions. Every quarter hour, the many multi-sized and individually named bells chime loudly overhead. We spent over a half hour up there before beginning our descent back down the spiraling brick ramp. We headed back out into the plaza and decided to separate for lunch. I ended up with a horrible iceberg salad, microwaved paella, and pre-packaged pudding, which was disguised on the menu board outside as a three course meal for 6 EUR. With my water and some kind of tax and service fee, it ended up being 9 EUR, and when I gave him a 10, he brought no change. Argh. Every dining experience can´t be a winner, I suppose.
I met back up with Hannah and we found ourselves in a garden with amazing trees that have tall, sculpted roots protruding at least a foot above the ground. There is a statue honoring Christopher Colombus in the center, and there I took a little siesta on a blue and while ceramic tile bench, until the many flies annoyed me out of my relaxation. We continued to the other side and found a large building with many early-20 year olds with backpacks entering and exiting. Being the clever one that I am, I came to the conclusion that it must be a university, and Hannah agreed, "Now that you say that..," and it ended up being the Universidad de Sevilla. We went inside and had coffee in the university cafe for .75! Incredible. We left and each got a helado before crossing a bridge that we hoped crossed over water, but was really just a glorified overpass. We turned around, walked back, bought Flamenco tickets for a professional show the following night, and went to meet Asli.
On the way, we saw two girls with backpacks looking lost, and I offered to place them on their map, but they ended up just following us to our hotel and getting a room there as well. We invited them to join us to go out later on, and they agreed that they would after grabbing a bite to eat. In the meantime, Hannah, Asli, and I hung out in our room and had story time courtesy of Hannah as she read aloud from "The curious incident of the dog in the night-time," which is hilarious. A short while later, Lauren and Clair, who are from Australia, joined back up with us and we all headed out to a taberna, or tavern. This is basically a bar where flamenco guitarists perform and amateurs dance along. We arrived about an hour or so before the show, so we just talked and hung out in the best seat in the house until the show began. Around midnight, all of the lights were turned down and the tavern remained illuminated solely by tea-light candles on the tables. The first guitarist stood in front of a statue of Mary and baby Jesus and started slowly plucking the strings, before introducing his powerful voice. Eventually, people began singing and clapping along and when the lights came up, the dancing began. We had learned the things to yell to the dancers from the lesson the night before, and paricipated with "Ole! Rubia! Morena! Bonito/a," though not necessarily all together. It was a great evening and we really look forward to the professional show tonight.
Today, the three of us had breakfast together at a little cafe, and my "Desayuno de la Casa" made up for yesterday´s lunch...eggs, ham, bread, coffee, and fresh squeezed orange juice for 5 EUR. We set out for the palace, or Reale Alcazares, through gardens and little streets lined with ceramic tile shops. The palace was really incredible-with many architectural influences, including Italian, Islamic, Classical and more (I´d be more detailed, but it´s not my forte). We took a tour of the royal families´ living quarters upstairs, and explored the many courtyards and gardens in between. Plaster moulding, stone carving with brightly painted negative space, topped with carved wooden celings and closed with iron gates and carved wooden doors set the scene. The jasmine-scented gardens were immense and beautiful to wander through.
Next on the list are the river, the Plaza de Toros, and the Flamenco performance tonight! Tomorrow: Granada!

Day 49- "Me time" in Carmona

Since we booked all of our hostels from this point on, and without many online choices for Seville, we ended up with one that is about 25km from downtown. I tried to cancel, but they were going to charge my card (the number of which they had from the reservation) for the night´s stay anyway, so we decided to check it out. By the time we left the train station, and were dropped off from the 45 minute bus ride, it was about 3pm. I suggested that we just stay in Carmona for the day and head to Seville the next morning, and the girls agreed.
We arrived at our hostel, which is really more like a hotel, with new interiors and a pool. (http://www.hospederiamarquesdelastorres.com/)
I´ve been having strong urges to go for a run (something I haven´t done since Turkey), Asli was eyeing the ceramic tiles on the way to the hostel, and Hannah had flight stuff to take care of and painting to do, so we all agreed to go our separate ways. The town is very small, and actually was first settled in Paleolithic times (no worries, mom, it´s safe).
I was able to see about double what I would have seen by walking, and therefore ran all over the touristy areas and even into several residential areas and parks. My jog lasted a total of 1.5 hours, with two quick stops for water and a couple pauses to take in the view of something particularly amazing. My top three sights of the day were: a church near our hostel with amazingly ornate sculpture and paintings, lit only by the rans able to penetrate the saturated stained glass, the view of the expansive horizon from a park at the top of a hill, including the farmland and mountains in the very distance, and the museum which contained artifacts from every era of settlement the city has seen. I estimate that in total, I ran about 7 miles, and was so relieved to find that I still had it in me. I actually felt really strong, as my legs have been going non-stop for over a month and a half now.
I took a quick shower after my run, then met the girls for dinner at 8 in the square. There were many old couples there, dispersed by the children playing and pre-teen boys popping wheelies on their bicycles and riding around and around the circlular gathering place. Hannah made a phone call, then disappeared (not enough "me time" I suppose), and without knowing where she went, Asli and I sought out dinner for ourselves. We wound up in yet another Chinese restaurant (becoming a theme between us), and had vegetables with rice and soup. Later on we stopped for a cup of coffee, then headed back to the hostel, where I worked on some of the line drawings I´ve been doing.
Tomorrow we head into Seville after our free breakfast (which is hopefully better than the cornflakes and rolls with jam of the last hostel). There is a cathedral, a palace, and a few other must-sees that we plan on hitting up, then hopefully will see the bullfight that Asli´s been dying to see in the beautiful Plaza de Toros. I think we may spend one more night here, hopefully to see a live Flamenco performance, which is said to be at its best in Seville.

Day 48-Madrid=Mul-hocks, Adultery, Dancing flamenco, Ridiculous hair, Ice cream, Dinero

From the train station, we took the metro, and one of the first things we noticed was the awful hair. The suck-cut from Wayne´s World definitely comes to mind. They add stands of faded pink or electric blue in random places, most likely to complement the outfits that the fashion police must have given up on trying to outlaw.
We arrived to our hostel and had our free breakfast, and were joined by Asli a short time later. We decided to head out and have really learned that traveling in the early morning/arriving in the daytime is the best way to go.
Our hostel was right by the Puerto del Sol, and we walked there within minutes, from there we headed to the large Plaza Mayor, which was partially built by the Habsburgs of Vienna. It´s funny how often you hear certain families´ names in Europe, the Habsburgs and the Medici being two that I´ve heard the most. Hannah wanted to go her own way and shop, so Asli and I spent the day exploring the Real Palacio (Royal Palace) and several coffee shops, where I opted for tea, though they definitely haven´t mastered it in Spain. We kind of let ourselves get lost, eating ice cream twice during the day and wandering the people and street performer cluttered streets. One of the street performers, dressed as an all-silver cowboy, caught a large crowd´s attention and was able to hold it with his chirping and whistling. When Asli gave him some change (basically so that she could walk to the front of the crowd...oh my little attention loving Turk!), he twirled her around and asked for a kiss on the cheek, at which point he turned his head and caught her-silver lips and all- on the lips. The crowd loved it and we had a good laugh for the next few minutes as we continued on.
We met up with Hannah at the Plaza again around 6 and had dinner (quesadillas) at a really cool bar-restaurant with swings at the bar instead of bar stools...that´s my kind of place! We wandered around and found a park where there was a drum circle thing going on, but left shortly after. We found a coffee shop, then headed back to the hostel.
The next day, we had more of an itinerary, and saw the Plaza de Espana, and the Egyptian temple in a nice park that overlooked the whole city. As Hannah put it later that night: "If I were to analyze Madrid as a painting, I´d say it has no focal point," which is about as accuarate a statement as could be made about the city, both from the view and walking around during our explorations. In the park, Hannah painted while Asli and I played in the "3-12 anos" area on the swings and other fun contraptions, then we parted ways while Hannah continued her work and Asli and I went back for round two of "bakery" for her (Belgin´s not going to like hearing about all this sugar intake!). Madrid is significantly cheaper than other cities we´ve been to recently (ie. Paris), so it´s hard not to get too excited about it.
The two of us wandered through a boutique-y district and eventually back to the hostel. I was in a weird state all day, just kind of out of it, and ended up passing out for a few hours there. I awoke to the guitar and stomping of Flamenco, and ran downstairs to find myself an hour late for the lesson in which Asli was participating in along with two other girls. I joined in, having not practiced a single step, and still completed my solo performance with the attitude that is so fully Flamenco. It was a ton of fun, and we were cheered on by a rowdy group of Danish high school kids, there for studies.
Before we headed to bed, I asked Asli to accompany me outside so that I could get a picture of the prostitutes that lined the streets. I took it as subtly as possible before scurrying inside the refuge of the hostel. We went to bed with plans of getting up early enough for the start of breakfast and a morning train to Sevilla.

Day 46- A story for the grandkids

Yesterday began quite early. In the still-dark morning, around 6am, Hannah and I awoke in her friend Meghan and Jennifer´s room (who had stayed overnight in Aix). We dressed and packed our bags and headed back up the dirt-and-rock path to the chateau, and out the little paved road, and to the "bus stop" where we had been dropped off two days prior. The bus was scheduled to arrive at 6:50am, but after about 10 minutes of waiting in what was now not only dark but also rain, we realized it may not be the most consistent bus to exist, and we may have to find a plan B.
There was a little fenced in house to our right and I saw a light on and could hear some plastic porch furniture being slid around. I suggested that we go ask for help, and Hannah agreed, so we went up to the gate and said, "Pardon, Miseour," which I later was told by a French guy on the train should have been, "Excusez-moi síl vous plait," (the French are very polite with their conversation). A little weathered old man, of about 68 came to the gate, "mademoiselle?" He opended the gate and through my non existent French and his non existent English, we were somehow able to communicate that we needed to get to Cavaillon, the train station town about 25km away. He agreed, and we piled into the front of his white beat up van after the snarling dog that had a home there was relocated. He took us down the hill slightly, where he stopped by a hillside, where he removed some tabac from the rocks there...Hannah and I laughed and we continued down to another small town where he had planned to let us take a minibus from. The place was closed, and after offering him 10 EUR, he agreed to take us the whole way to Cavaillon in time to catch our 8:03 train. We gave him the money and a hug, amazed that we had made it.
We had time for a cup of coffee (yes, I drink it occasionally now, and I´ve also eaten tomatoes and olives, all of which I previously despised) then boarded our train for the short 30 minute ride to our connecting town of Avignon.
Avignon is famous for its bridge, which only spans half of the river that it must have been meant to cross, though I don´t know the exact history of it. It is also in a children´s song. Google time! We had two hours to explore the town before our connecting train to the Spanish boarder, so we went and saw the bridge, the Palais of the Popes, and the marketplace. Hannah ordered half of a "bird," by which time we had only 3 minutes till our train departed. We were sporting our mother load backpacks once again (which haven´t lightened a bit since the journey began), and had to run with them on for at least a quarter mile through town back to the train station. I kept yelling to Hannah to keep up and had to envision myself in some kind of backpack race to keep running faster. I just told myself that as badly as it hurt at the time, it would be a so much of a hassle to miss this train.
Just as we ran into the station, I saw a train across the tracks begin to pull away and, without even knowing if it was the right train, jumped down and ran across three sets of tracks, pushed the door-opening button, and climbed clumsily aboard. We both made it on, then were frantically asking "Is this the train to Portbou?!" Luckily it was, and we slumped into our seats for the 4.5 hour ride. Hannah ate her "bird" and I slept most of the way. Adrenaline is powerful stuff.
At Portbou, we had a 4-hour layover, so we rented a locker to ditch our packs at the station. We set off down a steep flight of stairs into the little train/port town and eventually came around a corner and found water, which alwasys makes me happy to see and is liberating in a way. Just opposite of the bay area was a little bar called Riky´s, and we decided to go in and grab a beer. I feel so much more comfortable and competent in Spain knowing some Spanish, even if it is terribly elementary. (Hola, dos cervezas y una grande agua, por favor.) The beer came with tapas-olives and fried potato chips- which originated by bartenders covering beers with a small plate to keep the flies out, and over time, beginning to add some food (tapas) to the tops of those plates. Not a bad idea! The idea obviously took off, as now one can find tapas anywhere, even in small town Georgia.
After our beers and small talk with the friendly bartenders, we took a quick stroll along the water and were both in great moods. I´m so excited about Spain, my ninth and final country.
After a bit, we headed back early, having learned our lesson the hard way a fewe hours earlier. We boarded our 12 hour overnight train, and found our sardine can, I mean, cabin. It somehow had 6 beds crammed into it, so tightly that you couldn´t even sit up without hitting your head on the bunk above. I took a nap before we picked up 2500 people (exaggeration) in Barcelona while Hannah painted in the dining car. I joined her after our cabin filled with people and chatted with a guy from southern France about Paulo Coehlo and the Petit Prince.
In the morning, we were given a bright and early wake up call around 6:30, and arrived in Madrid at 7am.