So, I've finally gotten around to making the DVD of all our pictures and videos from Bilbao and the rest of Europe. The DVD is actually close to 2 hours long, but I made a 2-minute remix of my favorite pictures and memories.
Enjoy! What an amazing semester.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
This might possibly be the last post I make here...
...and most definitely the longest. You have no idea how much that both elates and depresses me. 
But even though my mediocre writing tends to take a tangent, please stay with me. I’d like to think it gets better at the end.
My head is spinning from the turmoil of the last few days, and just in case you don’t know, here’s the recap: watched Club Athletic’s expected loss to Barcelona instead of studying for exams, took exams while wishing I had studied for exams, celebrated and mourned our return to the states with our Erasmus friends, realized I really do love Bilbao and País Vasco, checked in for our EasyJet plane to London, realized our luggage was 10 kilos over and had to throw away the extras, visited London and relished in speaking English, flew to Dublin via RyanAir, decided to forever boycott RyanAir, got lost in Dublin without a map, explored the Storehouse and drank this black coffee they call Guiness, would have relished the English if we could have understood it, flew back to the states, ate Mexican food, graduated two days later, move into my apartment TODAY.
The chaos of the past few days didn’t leave much room for blogging, but now – sitting in this Austin La Quinta after graduation – it’s time to wrap it all up.
To study abroad quite possibly could have been the best decision I’ve ever made, maybe second or third to more important things like go to UT, join the band, or finally say yes to Cade’s repeated requests for a date. BUT, even though my hesitance was more than obvious in the beginning, and our first days in the rainy green land were anything but tranquil, I realized in those last few weeks that the things I’ve learned, the friends I’d made and the places I went were incomparable. Seeing Europe at 21 gave me the itch to see Asia. And South America. And Australia. And Africa. And most of all, I want to see what I haven’t seen in my own country. I want to travel, I want to see how other people work, and I want to see how societies tick. The differences in Spanish culture and our own is enough to pick apart for a decade.
But whether or not that all fits in my future – I have no idea. The speaker at my graduation - an eccentric but fun Pulitzer Prize winner whose quirky insight had the whole auditorium laughing – said something I’m going to try to keep at heart. He said think in the present, live in the present, write in the present. That’s what I want to do, so we’ll see how it goes.
It’d be easy for me to get caught up in a sentimental rant and take a tangent away from what I originally wanted to write about, so...here’s the extended recap of what Cabana have been up to in the last weeks of our life in Spain.
The best friends you could ask for...
After Athletic’s eventual loss to Barça, and after our tests that gave a whole new meaning to the final in final exams, Cade and I began the sad process of packing up our little dorm room and squeezing it all into our two bags. Not all of it fit – especially the 19 wine bottles we’d saved from some weekends we can’t even remember and other memorabilia that we sadly couldn’t take – but we packed what we could and threw away what we couldn’t. The night before we flew up to London, we had a big farewell dinner with all of our friends – the so-deemed Erasmus kids. For photos of the most good looking kids in Europe, click here. We ate, drank and talked all night long, exchanged presents and had so much fun that it made me realize they’re the part of Bilbao I’ll miss the most. Cade and I made everyone an enlarged photo of our group together, and they surprised us with the sweetest video, and I think the only video, we’ve ever had made for us. Any attempt to describe it would be an injustice, so please take the time to watch it here. http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/video/video.php?v=1146645180310&ref=mf
We ended the night like old times – bar hopping, stealing wine glasses and making a ruckus in the streets. If y’all are reading, I hope you know I’ll never forget y’all and if you don’t keep up with me on Facebook I’m coming over to Sweden/Boston/Brasil/Belgium/France/Italy/Norway and I’ll find you!
“We gave you your culture, and what did you do with it? You went and effed it up!” – Ben, the English friend
London, by all means, was quite lovely once we actually got there. But the whole thing beforehand with the airline just sucked. Now, London and Dublin were our last stops before going home, so obviously we had everything with us – the last six months of our lives all scrunched into two bags each. So, once we set down our baggage at the EasyJet check-in counter at the Bilbao airport, we’re told that our bags are 12 kilos over. Okay, cool. Not a problem. I’ll just pay the extra weight. No, she says. Extra weight is “carísimo” – they charge 12€ per kilo. So, it was either pay 120€ on the spot or throw away our luggage. Had we been anything but poor college kids, I might still have my favorite pair of pajama pants, all four books of the Twilight series, my black boots and a dozen other things that define the stereotype of girls packing too much. Being young, energetic and wrinkle-less has its own price to pay, and thus a quarter of our clothes are probably now sitting in the bottom of a city dumpster in Bilbao. It would have been nice to at least be able to donate them to some sort of a shelter, which is why I propose this to any airline officials reading (because of course there are airline officials reading this blog) – put in donation boxes at the airports for poor college students who can’t afford to pay the excess baggage fees. That way, at least it won’t feel like such a waste throwing our stuff away and maybe we could help a few people along the way who don’t have it that great. Just a thought.
Despite all that, London was a welcome relief. Together with Dublin, I think the two cities were the most similar to our own culture in terms of food, music and everything els
e. I mean, it is the homeland after all. But seriously, I really enjoyed London, and not only because everyone spoke English (although that was a substantial part of it) but because the people actually seemed nicer and more willing to help. Ben told us that the people in southern England are more closed off than in the northern cites like Liverpool and Manchester, so maybe we need to go back and see. Plus, you can’t be rude with that jolly English accent, chap. You just can’t.
We spent the rest of the trip checking off the must-see sights on Hughie’s list, notably the Dublin Zoo and Dun Laoighre. The zoo would have been just like any other zoo without the added flavor of the Irish kids’ accents which made it all worthwhile and had Cade and I trying to imitate it for the rest of the trip. But Dun Laoighre really embodied what we had initially pictured of Ireland. After the 30 minute ride on the podunk little city train, we stepped off to a bay of picturesque green hills, sailboats, and a threateningly fat raincloud. Check out a map of Dublin and you’ll see what I mean – its coasts make up a wide and curvy bay, and there are two piers that go out and pretty much stretch around it all. We went out to the piers, took pictures on the rocks and looked out for I don’t know how long at the green landscapes that make Ireland Ireland. We left just as it started to sprinkle down, and by the time we crammed into the train back to town we were saturated and freezing – but I mean it when I say that’s some of the prettiest scenery I’ve seen.
The next day we flew into Chicago, then Dallas before FINALLY heading to Houston. A few days before we left and while on the plane, I wrote a little list of things I’ll miss and things I missed in Texas that only seem appropriate to add now:
What I’ll miss in País Vasco, Bilbao and Spain
1. The beautiful “paisaje” that steals your heart and never gets boring. The vivid green. The mountains. The hills. The blue sky when you’re lucky enough to have decent weather. As much as I complained about Bilbao and all things Basque when I first came, I really am going to miss this beautiful countryside. Taking a bus or train through these remarkable views is truly a treat, and nothing in Spain or even Europe compares to it. The green trees, all perched on the hillsides and jumping from cliffside to cliffside are akin to a fantasyland, one I know it will be hard to leave. It’s unimaginable, and living up here I really think I take it for granted, until of course I take a bus through it like right now on my way to San Sebastian. Only then am I reminded time and time again how peaceful, serene and calm these views really are. It really does cement any and all romanticized views of the Basque Country, and I love it. – 4/24/2009
2. Basque people, who are closed down at first – almost impenetrable – but so very helpful. They’re stylish, with their dark clothes and mink coats in 80 degree weather. I think I ultimately realized that they’re as proud of the Basque Country as Texans are of the Lone Star State.
3. The beautiful warm days, which seem like a gift after five months of nonstop rain. It’s kind of like Bilbao’s way of saying goodbye. I’m sitting on a bench now across from Deusto and it’s so incredibly warm. I can’t remember being able to soak up the sun like this since the sultry August days in Texas. It really makes you appreciate the sunshine so much more.
4. Running at night with Cade alongside the river, next to the bright lights of the Guggenheim.
5. Being able to walk everywhere from home – from the supermarket, to school, to the post office. The feeling that I’m totally independent of my car, even when traveling. We traveled all over Europe without a car and stayed on budget. Public transportation here is amazing.
6. Being a stone’s throw away from pretty much every other European country. Taking a weekend trip to Paris, like we did in February, is laughable in the states.
7. Tortilla de patata. Natillas. Menú del día. Wine. 8. Bars. Discotecas, Kalimotxo.
9. All the friends I’ve made here, who made this experience better than I ever thought it would be. Lina, with her knack at getting everyone together and her complete acceptance of the fact that she was always the “Swedish girl” in my blog and the only non-American in most of our weekend trips. Dane, with his unmatched enthusiasm and expertise in self-timing photos. François, who puts Hugh Heffner to shame. Stephanie, who’s adorable in her own way with her curiosity about everything. Leticia and Luana, who put up with me asking them to repeat everything again when I say “más dispacio, por favor”. Ben, whose English accent makes my day, everyday. And all the others from all parts of the world who each helped me learn a little about their culture and who all gave me ample practice of my Spanish.
What I missed from Texas
Yes, this semester has truly been an amazing, unforgettable and all-around enlightening experience, but Texas calls me too, daily, especially in these last few days. What I’ll miss from Spain is compensated by what I’ve missed from home.
1. My family. My friends. Being able to see and talk to them without going through e-mail or messing with Skype on a bad connection.
2. Washer and dryer on demand. Not having to take clothes all balled up in a blanket, only to go down and see all three washers taken. Going back to a country where the people use dryers and not have to hang up wet clothes all over the place to dry.
3. Normal food. No Bacalao. TexMex. Mac and cheese. Syrup. Oh syrup. Biscuits and gravy. Lunch meat that’s not 4€ for four slices. Lean beef. Refrigerated milk (although I’ve gotten used to it). The list goes on and on.
4. Dishwasher. Bathtub. Living space more than 1 room for two people.
5. Sun.
6. Heat.
7. Shorts.
8. Being able to read a menu, order and know exactly what’s going to show up on my plate.
9. Disciplined kids.
10. Wearing flip flops without everyone looking at you like you’re crazy.
11. An oven, not just a stovetop.
As soon as we touched ground in Texas, it was a nonstop hustle bustle until today, a week later, when I have time to type it all up from the random chicken scratch of my notebook pages. We’re graduated, and for the most part, ready to take on the world. Cade’s going on to law school in Dallas, and I’m trying to find a job up there so I can be with him.
But by the way, if there are any travel blog/magazine/newspaper/publication editors out there, hire me!
As for all the other readers (may just be one reader at this point), thank you so much for tagging along throughout this blog. It means a lot that you care about us and what we were up to in Spain. If I had my way, I’d do nothing but write about this stuff for the rest of my life. Turns out I don’t really have that option right now, but it may be there later.
Alright, we’re ready to take on the world. Global financial crisis and print media meltdown, bring it.
-Bana
But even though my mediocre writing tends to take a tangent, please stay with me. I’d like to think it gets better at the end.My head is spinning from the turmoil of the last few days, and just in case you don’t know, here’s the recap: watched Club Athletic’s expected loss to Barcelona instead of studying for exams, took exams while wishing I had studied for exams, celebrated and mourned our return to the states with our Erasmus friends, realized I really do love Bilbao and País Vasco, checked in for our EasyJet plane to London, realized our luggage was 10 kilos over and had to throw away the extras, visited London and relished in speaking English, flew to Dublin via RyanAir, decided to forever boycott RyanAir, got lost in Dublin without a map, explored the Storehouse and drank this black coffee they call Guiness, would have relished the English if we could have understood it, flew back to the states, ate Mexican food, graduated two days later, move into my apartment TODAY.
The chaos of the past few days didn’t leave much room for blogging, but now – sitting in this Austin La Quinta after graduation – it’s time to wrap it all up.
To study abroad quite possibly could have been the best decision I’ve ever made, maybe second or third to more important things like go to UT, join the band, or finally say yes to Cade’s repeated requests for a date. BUT, even though my hesitance was more than obvious in the beginning, and our first days in the rainy green land were anything but tranquil, I realized in those last few weeks that the things I’ve learned, the friends I’d made and the places I went were incomparable. Seeing Europe at 21 gave me the itch to see Asia. And South America. And Australia. And Africa. And most of all, I want to see what I haven’t seen in my own country. I want to travel, I want to see how other people work, and I want to see how societies tick. The differences in Spanish culture and our own is enough to pick apart for a decade.But whether or not that all fits in my future – I have no idea. The speaker at my graduation - an eccentric but fun Pulitzer Prize winner whose quirky insight had the whole auditorium laughing – said something I’m going to try to keep at heart. He said think in the present, live in the present, write in the present. That’s what I want to do, so we’ll see how it goes.
It’d be easy for me to get caught up in a sentimental rant and take a tangent away from what I originally wanted to write about, so...here’s the extended recap of what Cabana have been up to in the last weeks of our life in Spain.
The best friends you could ask for...After Athletic’s eventual loss to Barça, and after our tests that gave a whole new meaning to the final in final exams, Cade and I began the sad process of packing up our little dorm room and squeezing it all into our two bags. Not all of it fit – especially the 19 wine bottles we’d saved from some weekends we can’t even remember and other memorabilia that we sadly couldn’t take – but we packed what we could and threw away what we couldn’t. The night before we flew up to London, we had a big farewell dinner with all of our friends – the so-deemed Erasmus kids. For photos of the most good looking kids in Europe, click here. We ate, drank and talked all night long, exchanged presents and had so much fun that it made me realize they’re the part of Bilbao I’ll miss the most. Cade and I made everyone an enlarged photo of our group together, and they surprised us with the sweetest video, and I think the only video, we’ve ever had made for us. Any attempt to describe it would be an injustice, so please take the time to watch it here. http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/video/video.php?v=1146645180310&ref=mf
We ended the night like old times – bar hopping, stealing wine glasses and making a ruckus in the streets. If y’all are reading, I hope you know I’ll never forget y’all and if you don’t keep up with me on Facebook I’m coming over to Sweden/Boston/Brasil/Belgium/France/Italy/Norway and I’ll find you!
“We gave you your culture, and what did you do with it? You went and effed it up!” – Ben, the English friendLondon, by all means, was quite lovely once we actually got there. But the whole thing beforehand with the airline just sucked. Now, London and Dublin were our last stops before going home, so obviously we had everything with us – the last six months of our lives all scrunched into two bags each. So, once we set down our baggage at the EasyJet check-in counter at the Bilbao airport, we’re told that our bags are 12 kilos over. Okay, cool. Not a problem. I’ll just pay the extra weight. No, she says. Extra weight is “carísimo” – they charge 12€ per kilo. So, it was either pay 120€ on the spot or throw away our luggage. Had we been anything but poor college kids, I might still have my favorite pair of pajama pants, all four books of the Twilight series, my black boots and a dozen other things that define the stereotype of girls packing too much. Being young, energetic and wrinkle-less has its own price to pay, and thus a quarter of our clothes are probably now sitting in the bottom of a city dumpster in Bilbao. It would have been nice to at least be able to donate them to some sort of a shelter, which is why I propose this to any airline officials reading (because of course there are airline officials reading this blog) – put in donation boxes at the airports for poor college students who can’t afford to pay the excess baggage fees. That way, at least it won’t feel like such a waste throwing our stuff away and maybe we could help a few people along the way who don’t have it that great. Just a thought.
Despite all that, London was a welcome relief. Together with Dublin, I think the two cities were the most similar to our own culture in terms of food, music and everything els
e. I mean, it is the homeland after all. But seriously, I really enjoyed London, and not only because everyone spoke English (although that was a substantial part of it) but because the people actually seemed nicer and more willing to help. Ben told us that the people in southern England are more closed off than in the northern cites like Liverpool and Manchester, so maybe we need to go back and see. Plus, you can’t be rude with that jolly English accent, chap. You just can’t.There’s really no way to escape looking like an American tourist when you’re an American tourist. I think we learned this sometime halfway through our semester, so we’ve since given up on a façade. So, we took pictures around and in the red phone booths (which smell like piss and are covered in call girl ads so I highly discourage actually going in them), saw Parliament and Big Ben, stared like tourists at the double decker red buses, took a stroll through Hyde Park before watching the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, watched from afar the London Eye because we couldn’t afford the 15 pounds to ride it, shook the queen’s hand (kidding) and walked about 4 miles both ways to see the Tower of London. No snow, and we had shoes. In all honesty, I think we squeezed what would have probably amounted to a week’s worth of sightseeing for a normal person into one day. Keep that in mind as you peruse the hundreds of pictures here.
Bugger off, yeh bastards bugger off!
Ireland and the Irish remind me of Texas and Texans. Who needs clubs when you have Temple Bar? We knew this going in though. We asked our Irish friend Hughie, who goes to school in Dublin, what we should do during our stay there. Obviously, go to a pub, he says. What do we do after that? Go to another pub! You see why they remind me of Texas?
Getting to Dublin, like getting to London, was a little troublesome, though. But I guess it’s only fitting that we leave a part of ourselves in as many places as possible – namely the bottom of the city dumpsters in those places.
We paid 5 pounds for our flight to London to Dublin via RyanAir. I know; freaking cheap and it would have stayed that way if we didn’t have all our bags with us. Like EasyJet, RyanAir has freakishly low baggage weight allowances, except they’re not as generous as EasyJet. 15 kilos per person. No, forget the fact that I paid for two extra bags. Apparently you don’t get more weight when you buy more bags. So, we’re roughly 10 kilos over, and excess weight is not 12 but 15 pounds per kilo this time. That’s 150 pounds, probably $300 the way the exchange rate is right now, that we didn’t have. Needless to say, I didn’t come back to the United States with much of anything. A few clothes and one pair of shoes. Cade sacrificed his cowboy boots and almost cried, which almost made me cry. So, word of caution: RyanAir is great if you’re just taking a weekend trip, but if you’re checking bags – don’t waste your time, and you won’t waste your clothes.
But once we got past that, and the cranky airport to city bus driver who dropped us off in the middle of Dublin with no map and no information on where the hell we were, Dublin rocked. After our semester of traveling and studying had come to an end, we thought what better way to finish it off than with a pint of the black stuff? Much like London, we tried to cram a week’s worth of sightseeing into one and a half day, and even though we probably missed some things, what we did see was the best. Check the pictures out here. Besides, we have our whole lives to go back and catch up on what we didn’t this time around.
After meandering around lost for over an hour, we finally finagled our way to our hostel, an adorable hotel-turned-hostel that I think was my second favorite in Europe, behind Rossio Hostel in Lisbon. We introduced ourselves to Dublin by a couple of bad ass burgers at the Bad Ass Café in Temple Bar, the so-deemed “best place to eat in Dublin by far” by Hughie.
Bugger off, yeh bastards bugger off! Ireland and the Irish remind me of Texas and Texans. Who needs clubs when you have Temple Bar? We knew this going in though. We asked our Irish friend Hughie, who goes to school in Dublin, what we should do during our stay there. Obviously, go to a pub, he says. What do we do after that? Go to another pub! You see why they remind me of Texas?
Getting to Dublin, like getting to London, was a little troublesome, though. But I guess it’s only fitting that we leave a part of ourselves in as many places as possible – namely the bottom of the city dumpsters in those places.
We paid 5 pounds for our flight to London to Dublin via RyanAir. I know; freaking cheap and it would have stayed that way if we didn’t have all our bags with us. Like EasyJet, RyanAir has freakishly low baggage weight allowances, except they’re not as generous as EasyJet. 15 kilos per person. No, forget the fact that I paid for two extra bags. Apparently you don’t get more weight when you buy more bags. So, we’re roughly 10 kilos over, and excess weight is not 12 but 15 pounds per kilo this time. That’s 150 pounds, probably $300 the way the exchange rate is right now, that we didn’t have. Needless to say, I didn’t come back to the United States with much of anything. A few clothes and one pair of shoes. Cade sacrificed his cowboy boots and almost cried, which almost made me cry. So, word of caution: RyanAir is great if you’re just taking a weekend trip, but if you’re checking bags – don’t waste your time, and you won’t waste your clothes.
But once we got past that, and the cranky airport to city bus driver who dropped us off in the middle of Dublin with no map and no information on where the hell we were, Dublin rocked. After our semester of traveling and studying had come to an end, we thought what better way to finish it off than with a pint of the black stuff? Much like London, we tried to cram a week’s worth of sightseeing into one and a half day, and even though we probably missed some things, what we did see was the best. Check the pictures out here. Besides, we have our whole lives to go back and catch up on what we didn’t this time around.
After meandering around lost for over an hour, we finally finagled our way to our hostel, an adorable hotel-turned-hostel that I think was my second favorite in Europe, behind Rossio Hostel in Lisbon. We introduced ourselves to Dublin by a couple of bad ass burgers at the Bad Ass Café in Temple Bar, the so-deemed “best place to eat in Dublin by far” by Hughie.
We spent the rest of the trip checking off the must-see sights on Hughie’s list, notably the Dublin Zoo and Dun Laoighre. The zoo would have been just like any other zoo without the added flavor of the Irish kids’ accents which made it all worthwhile and had Cade and I trying to imitate it for the rest of the trip. But Dun Laoighre really embodied what we had initially pictured of Ireland. After the 30 minute ride on the podunk little city train, we stepped off to a bay of picturesque green hills, sailboats, and a threateningly fat raincloud. Check out a map of Dublin and you’ll see what I mean – its coasts make up a wide and curvy bay, and there are two piers that go out and pretty much stretch around it all. We went out to the piers, took pictures on the rocks and looked out for I don’t know how long at the green landscapes that make Ireland Ireland. We left just as it started to sprinkle down, and by the time we crammed into the train back to town we were saturated and freezing – but I mean it when I say that’s some of the prettiest scenery I’ve seen.The next day we flew into Chicago, then Dallas before FINALLY heading to Houston. A few days before we left and while on the plane, I wrote a little list of things I’ll miss and things I missed in Texas that only seem appropriate to add now:
What I’ll miss in País Vasco, Bilbao and Spain
1. The beautiful “paisaje” that steals your heart and never gets boring. The vivid green. The mountains. The hills. The blue sky when you’re lucky enough to have decent weather. As much as I complained about Bilbao and all things Basque when I first came, I really am going to miss this beautiful countryside. Taking a bus or train through these remarkable views is truly a treat, and nothing in Spain or even Europe compares to it. The green trees, all perched on the hillsides and jumping from cliffside to cliffside are akin to a fantasyland, one I know it will be hard to leave. It’s unimaginable, and living up here I really think I take it for granted, until of course I take a bus through it like right now on my way to San Sebastian. Only then am I reminded time and time again how peaceful, serene and calm these views really are. It really does cement any and all romanticized views of the Basque Country, and I love it. – 4/24/20092. Basque people, who are closed down at first – almost impenetrable – but so very helpful. They’re stylish, with their dark clothes and mink coats in 80 degree weather. I think I ultimately realized that they’re as proud of the Basque Country as Texans are of the Lone Star State.
3. The beautiful warm days, which seem like a gift after five months of nonstop rain. It’s kind of like Bilbao’s way of saying goodbye. I’m sitting on a bench now across from Deusto and it’s so incredibly warm. I can’t remember being able to soak up the sun like this since the sultry August days in Texas. It really makes you appreciate the sunshine so much more.
4. Running at night with Cade alongside the river, next to the bright lights of the Guggenheim.5. Being able to walk everywhere from home – from the supermarket, to school, to the post office. The feeling that I’m totally independent of my car, even when traveling. We traveled all over Europe without a car and stayed on budget. Public transportation here is amazing.
6. Being a stone’s throw away from pretty much every other European country. Taking a weekend trip to Paris, like we did in February, is laughable in the states.
7. Tortilla de patata. Natillas. Menú del día. Wine. 8. Bars. Discotecas, Kalimotxo.
9. All the friends I’ve made here, who made this experience better than I ever thought it would be. Lina, with her knack at getting everyone together and her complete acceptance of the fact that she was always the “Swedish girl” in my blog and the only non-American in most of our weekend trips. Dane, with his unmatched enthusiasm and expertise in self-timing photos. François, who puts Hugh Heffner to shame. Stephanie, who’s adorable in her own way with her curiosity about everything. Leticia and Luana, who put up with me asking them to repeat everything again when I say “más dispacio, por favor”. Ben, whose English accent makes my day, everyday. And all the others from all parts of the world who each helped me learn a little about their culture and who all gave me ample practice of my Spanish.
What I missed from Texas
Yes, this semester has truly been an amazing, unforgettable and all-around enlightening experience, but Texas calls me too, daily, especially in these last few days. What I’ll miss from Spain is compensated by what I’ve missed from home.
1. My family. My friends. Being able to see and talk to them without going through e-mail or messing with Skype on a bad connection.
2. Washer and dryer on demand. Not having to take clothes all balled up in a blanket, only to go down and see all three washers taken. Going back to a country where the people use dryers and not have to hang up wet clothes all over the place to dry.
3. Normal food. No Bacalao. TexMex. Mac and cheese. Syrup. Oh syrup. Biscuits and gravy. Lunch meat that’s not 4€ for four slices. Lean beef. Refrigerated milk (although I’ve gotten used to it). The list goes on and on.
4. Dishwasher. Bathtub. Living space more than 1 room for two people.
5. Sun.
6. Heat.
7. Shorts.
8. Being able to read a menu, order and know exactly what’s going to show up on my plate.
9. Disciplined kids.
10. Wearing flip flops without everyone looking at you like you’re crazy.
11. An oven, not just a stovetop.
As soon as we touched ground in Texas, it was a nonstop hustle bustle until today, a week later, when I have time to type it all up from the random chicken scratch of my notebook pages. We’re graduated, and for the most part, ready to take on the world. Cade’s going on to law school in Dallas, and I’m trying to find a job up there so I can be with him.But by the way, if there are any travel blog/magazine/newspaper/publication editors out there, hire me!
As for all the other readers (may just be one reader at this point), thank you so much for tagging along throughout this blog. It means a lot that you care about us and what we were up to in Spain. If I had my way, I’d do nothing but write about this stuff for the rest of my life. Turns out I don’t really have that option right now, but it may be there later.
Alright, we’re ready to take on the world. Global financial crisis and print media meltdown, bring it.
-Bana
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Aupa Athletic, and...oh yeah. I'm done!
I walked the two miles home from school day in the pouring rain and wintry breeze, sans umbrella. Despite the rain, despite the wind, despite my drenched shoes and despite the fact that I never seem to bring my umbrella when I need to, it couldn't have been more perfect.
This morning, at 10:58am, I bubbled in my last answer of the last test of my last semester of the last year of my undergraduate studies. By all means, I'm officially done - not just with Deusto and not just with Spain. I'm done with school....for now.
The creeping fact that I'm still what most would consider "unemployed" isn't ruining this for me...yet. I'm done with exams, I'm done with school and I get Mexican food next week for the first time in five months. Nothing, not even joblessness or the fact that NOBODY seems to be hiring, can spoil that. I've got way too much to relish at the moment and there's still so much going on around here that I don't want to stress about it until the plane touches ground in Houston. Better yet, until after I savor every crumb of that Mexican food.
For one - Aupa Athletic!
Even though I had two back-to-back exams this morning, there are some things you just can't miss. For the first time in I'm not sure how long, the Athletic Club Bilbao (Bilbao's soccer team and the pride of País Vasco) played in THE Copa del Rey (a Super Bowl of sorts for Spanish soccer). The game was in Valencia, but gigantic screens were splattered about the city for those who stayed in Bilbao. Two of which were in Casco Viejo, where most all of us met to watch the game last night at 10pm.
Keeping in mind that I've been in the Longhorn Band for four years, including but not limited to 4 Red River Rivalries, 1 National Championship, 4 victorious bowl games and I don't know how many ESPN Game Days, I still don't think I've ever seen so many people crowded into such a small area with such team spirit. I loved it. It really and honestly reminded me of home, where if you're not screaming your throat raw after Shipley just ran in for the TD, you're not a true fan. If you're not out of your seat when the defense stops the third down conversion, you're not really in the game. THAT'S what I love and THAT'S what I saw last night with the Club Athletic fans. They had their jerseys, their faces painted, their beer, their kalimotxos, their cigarettes, their marijuana, their bufandas, their flags and their banners. They flipped off the screens when the refs made a bad call and screamed Spanish obscenities when it didn't go their way. Just to be in the middle of all that, to be crushed in the middle of this entangled mob of fiery fans, brought me back to mosh pits and high school. It was awesome.
We brought our wine, beer and good spirits and passed the night with our big group of friends in front of the two big pantallas, or screens. I probably should have studied just a little bit more, but meh - soccer pretty much defines Spanish culture so that's just something you can't miss. We had the face paint, wore our red and white and cheered with the crowd, but in the end Barcelona kicked some serious ass and rose up above Bilbao 4-1. But even though they lost, that's an experience I wouldn't miss for anything.
*I forgot to bring my camera, but Lina took some great pictures and I will try to edit this post with them as soon as I can steal them from her on Facebook.
Cade's probably about to finish his last exam as I'm writing this and as for the rest of this week, we have so much to do! Enjoy liberation today, final farewell dinner with all our friends tomorrow, pack and leave on Saturday, London on Saturday and Sunday, Dublin on Monday and Tuesday, Houston on Wednesday (this is where the Mexican food comes in) and Austin on Thursday for graduation.
Hook 'em Class of 2009!
-Bana
This morning, at 10:58am, I bubbled in my last answer of the last test of my last semester of the last year of my undergraduate studies. By all means, I'm officially done - not just with Deusto and not just with Spain. I'm done with school....for now.
The creeping fact that I'm still what most would consider "unemployed" isn't ruining this for me...yet. I'm done with exams, I'm done with school and I get Mexican food next week for the first time in five months. Nothing, not even joblessness or the fact that NOBODY seems to be hiring, can spoil that. I've got way too much to relish at the moment and there's still so much going on around here that I don't want to stress about it until the plane touches ground in Houston. Better yet, until after I savor every crumb of that Mexican food.
For one - Aupa Athletic!
Even though I had two back-to-back exams this morning, there are some things you just can't miss. For the first time in I'm not sure how long, the Athletic Club Bilbao (Bilbao's soccer team and the pride of País Vasco) played in THE Copa del Rey (a Super Bowl of sorts for Spanish soccer). The game was in Valencia, but gigantic screens were splattered about the city for those who stayed in Bilbao. Two of which were in Casco Viejo, where most all of us met to watch the game last night at 10pm.
Keeping in mind that I've been in the Longhorn Band for four years, including but not limited to 4 Red River Rivalries, 1 National Championship, 4 victorious bowl games and I don't know how many ESPN Game Days, I still don't think I've ever seen so many people crowded into such a small area with such team spirit. I loved it. It really and honestly reminded me of home, where if you're not screaming your throat raw after Shipley just ran in for the TD, you're not a true fan. If you're not out of your seat when the defense stops the third down conversion, you're not really in the game. THAT'S what I love and THAT'S what I saw last night with the Club Athletic fans. They had their jerseys, their faces painted, their beer, their kalimotxos, their cigarettes, their marijuana, their bufandas, their flags and their banners. They flipped off the screens when the refs made a bad call and screamed Spanish obscenities when it didn't go their way. Just to be in the middle of all that, to be crushed in the middle of this entangled mob of fiery fans, brought me back to mosh pits and high school. It was awesome.
We brought our wine, beer and good spirits and passed the night with our big group of friends in front of the two big pantallas, or screens. I probably should have studied just a little bit more, but meh - soccer pretty much defines Spanish culture so that's just something you can't miss. We had the face paint, wore our red and white and cheered with the crowd, but in the end Barcelona kicked some serious ass and rose up above Bilbao 4-1. But even though they lost, that's an experience I wouldn't miss for anything.
*I forgot to bring my camera, but Lina took some great pictures and I will try to edit this post with them as soon as I can steal them from her on Facebook.
Cade's probably about to finish his last exam as I'm writing this and as for the rest of this week, we have so much to do! Enjoy liberation today, final farewell dinner with all our friends tomorrow, pack and leave on Saturday, London on Saturday and Sunday, Dublin on Monday and Tuesday, Houston on Wednesday (this is where the Mexican food comes in) and Austin on Thursday for graduation.
Hook 'em Class of 2009!
-Bana
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Nothing shows the real País Vasco like its little fishing towns: Bakio, Mundaka and Bermeo
And that's pretty much the truth. Bilbao's known for its professionals, its industrialism, businesses and Guggenheim with tourists. San Sebastián's known for its tourists, beach and pintxos. Tourists, tourists and more tourists.
But the rest, you seriously have to see for yourself. Once away from industrial Bilbao and the tourists' haven San Sebastián, you can really get a good gauge on what País Vasco is, and why the people who stay here love it so much.
A group of our friends took a weekend trip to Bakio, Mundaka and Bermeo this weekend, all basically a stone's throw from each other and an hour on the bus from Bilbao. And, apart from when I went Maui with my family when I was 16, I don't think I've ever seen white sandy beach, green hillside and aquamarine ocean combine in such a majestic way as I did this weekend.
We started the trip early Friday afternoon, when we took the bus from Bilbao to what we thought was Bermeo. Turns out it didn't, because the highway apparently had been closed down for some while, leaving the route we had planned on taking closed. But that only heightened the adventure, as we ended up in Bakio, a quaint little pueblo right on the coast.
After spending a few hours eating our picnic lunch, taking some great pictures and climbing the monstrous rocks on the sandy beach, we left for Mundaka, another small pueblo famous for its surfing and all-around awesomeness.
Once we checked into our hotel, we went out to explore what Mundaka has to offer: beach, beach and more beach. But, unlike Barcelona, Málaga or even San Sebastián where the beaches verge on mediocre, taking in the Mundaka beach landscape can take a full day. And even better, we were the only tourists.
Any words I conjure up, no matter how many adjectives I slap on, don't do it justice. Even the pictures don't, but you can see them here. It's just the way everything comes together - the green hills, the rocky cliffs, the deep blue and clear water, the white sandy beach, the bright blue skies - that's just so mesmerizing it's hard not to spend an entire sunny afternoon enjoying it all. To come to País Vasco without at least taking one day to see it should be criminal.
After we tore ourselves from this unforgettable scenery and night began to fall, we of course checked out the Mundaka nightlife, which is limited to say the least. In Bilbao, you won't go too far looking for a good pintxo bar at midnight. In Mundaka, we roamed the little streets for quite a while until we finally found a little smoky bar, where we spent the rest of the night with good music, good friends and good drinks.
The next morning we couldn't wait for more beach time. We checked out of the hotel, left our bags in the baggage room, and headed off for some more sun at what had already become my favorite beach in Spain. (Yes, seriously. Better than San Sebastián and Málaga. Better than them all...) Please though, look at the pictures. If you find a better beach in Spain with all the elements that make a beach a perfect beach, let me know. :)
This next part's where luck came in play. After an exhausting day in the sun, we didn't know whether we'd all be up for completing the trifecta of País Vasco towns and going to Bermeo. Thus, we thought we'd leave it up to EU tender. Tails we go home, heads we see the world.
I'm so glad that penny landed heads. Bermeo was almost as pretty as Mundaka, but still beautiful in its own unique Basque way. But, after seeing a pirate ship, staring in awe as the waves pounded against yet another beautiful cliffside beach and taking way too many pictures, we left the tranquil and serene scenery for the hustle and bustle of Bilbao.
And so ends another weekend journey. The more I see all of what País Vasco has to offer outside of Bilbao - most especially its amazing countryside - the more I just love being here. Only two weeks left, though. Even though I love it here, I think I'm ready to go back home. I miss family, friends, food and English. :)
Para todos mis amigos y mi familia en los estados, nos vemos en dos semanas. Para mis amigos aquí, nunca voy a olvidaros. For all my friends and family back in the states, I'll see you in two weeks. For everyone here in Bilbao, I'll never forget y'all. :)
Sinceramente,
Bana
But the rest, you seriously have to see for yourself. Once away from industrial Bilbao and the tourists' haven San Sebastián, you can really get a good gauge on what País Vasco is, and why the people who stay here love it so much.
A group of our friends took a weekend trip to Bakio, Mundaka and Bermeo this weekend, all basically a stone's throw from each other and an hour on the bus from Bilbao. And, apart from when I went Maui with my family when I was 16, I don't think I've ever seen white sandy beach, green hillside and aquamarine ocean combine in such a majestic way as I did this weekend.We started the trip early Friday afternoon, when we took the bus from Bilbao to what we thought was Bermeo. Turns out it didn't, because the highway apparently had been closed down for some while, leaving the route we had planned on taking closed. But that only heightened the adventure, as we ended up in Bakio, a quaint little pueblo right on the coast.
After spending a few hours eating our picnic lunch, taking some great pictures and climbing the monstrous rocks on the sandy beach, we left for Mundaka, another small pueblo famous for its surfing and all-around awesomeness.
Once we checked into our hotel, we went out to explore what Mundaka has to offer: beach, beach and more beach. But, unlike Barcelona, Málaga or even San Sebastián where the beaches verge on mediocre, taking in the Mundaka beach landscape can take a full day. And even better, we were the only tourists.
Any words I conjure up, no matter how many adjectives I slap on, don't do it justice. Even the pictures don't, but you can see them here. It's just the way everything comes together - the green hills, the rocky cliffs, the deep blue and clear water, the white sandy beach, the bright blue skies - that's just so mesmerizing it's hard not to spend an entire sunny afternoon enjoying it all. To come to País Vasco without at least taking one day to see it should be criminal.After we tore ourselves from this unforgettable scenery and night began to fall, we of course checked out the Mundaka nightlife, which is limited to say the least. In Bilbao, you won't go too far looking for a good pintxo bar at midnight. In Mundaka, we roamed the little streets for quite a while until we finally found a little smoky bar, where we spent the rest of the night with good music, good friends and good drinks.
The next morning we couldn't wait for more beach time. We checked out of the hotel, left our bags in the baggage room, and headed off for some more sun at what had already become my favorite beach in Spain. (Yes, seriously. Better than San Sebastián and Málaga. Better than them all...) Please though, look at the pictures. If you find a better beach in Spain with all the elements that make a beach a perfect beach, let me know. :)
This next part's where luck came in play. After an exhausting day in the sun, we didn't know whether we'd all be up for completing the trifecta of País Vasco towns and going to Bermeo. Thus, we thought we'd leave it up to EU tender. Tails we go home, heads we see the world.I'm so glad that penny landed heads. Bermeo was almost as pretty as Mundaka, but still beautiful in its own unique Basque way. But, after seeing a pirate ship, staring in awe as the waves pounded against yet another beautiful cliffside beach and taking way too many pictures, we left the tranquil and serene scenery for the hustle and bustle of Bilbao.
And so ends another weekend journey. The more I see all of what País Vasco has to offer outside of Bilbao - most especially its amazing countryside - the more I just love being here. Only two weeks left, though. Even though I love it here, I think I'm ready to go back home. I miss family, friends, food and English. :)
Para todos mis amigos y mi familia en los estados, nos vemos en dos semanas. Para mis amigos aquí, nunca voy a olvidaros. For all my friends and family back in the states, I'll see you in two weeks. For everyone here in Bilbao, I'll never forget y'all. :)
Sinceramente,
Bana
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Barcelona and Dad's Trip to Spain
Well, after relishing The Divine Victory of UT over A&M in Rome (and seeing many other amazing pieces of history), we flew back to Madrid in order to catch an overnight bus to Barcelona to meet Dad coming from the States.
A few quick words about overnight buses for those of you considering them:
1. The tickets for overnight buses cost the same as ones during the day, but the advantage comes from not having to pay for a night of hostel.
2. Bus seats are never comfortable enough to sleep well in unless you bring a pillow.
3. It is possible to sleep on the bus, but they stop every few hours, according to Spanish law.
4. Every time they stop they make an announcement and turn on all of the lights.
5. Despite all of this, it is possible to rest while on the bus. Just be prepared. Bring something to cover your eyes and a pillow (and pray that the guy or girl behind you doesn't snore).
6. The big thing to realize is that you will probably be tired the entire next day after the ride. How tired depends on your preparation. Hostels cost money, but walking around half asleep can cost you more in the long run.
All of that being said, we met Dad at the airport train station and basically went straight to sightseeing. About an hour into walking around, we realized that Barcelona is absolutely massive on a European scale.
We started on La Rambla, which is Barcelona's huge pedestrian street what leads directly from the Plaza Cataluña to the Port. From there, we went to the huge statue of Christopher Columbus "pointing toward the horizon in search of the New World" overlooking the Port. Strolling along the harbor, we cut back up into the Gothic Quarter and Dad got to see his first Spanish cathedral. From there we headed to the Plaza Cataluña and took a video panoramic from inside of the huge circular Plaza, complete with pigeons and plenty of young Spanish children running around playing with them.
About this time, we realized that there was no way that we could walk around and see everything we wanted to see, so we hopped onto a touristic bus from Plaza Cataluña to check out the sights. And sights there were.
The bus ran two lines, the East Route and the West Route. We started on the East Route.
The first place we stopped gave us the best view over Barcelona that we found. From the Mirador (viewpoint) your could see almost all of Barcelona stretching between the mountains and the sea. Honestly, it was one of the most breathtaking views I've seen in Europe. I'll post a picture of that scene as soon as I can get one from Dad (our camera was dead on the first day), but here's the link to everything else that we took.
Continuing on the bus tour, we rode past the 1992 Olympic Stadium, the Museu Nacional de Arte Cataluña, the Plaza de España, Avenida Diagonal, and finished back at Plaza Cataluña. At all of these places, you can get off, take pictures, tour the site, etc., but we decided to stay on since we hadn't had much sleep the night before. Dad had been on a plane for 15 hours and we were on a bus for 7 hours. We all were tired. We just didn't know how tired...
We got back to the hostel around 4PM, checked in and went to sleep...for a nap...or so we thought... We finally got up and out of bed the next morning around 7AM after having slept for 15 hours each. Needless to say, we all felt very refreshed.
The next day we took the other route on the Bus tour and saw the Olympic Village, Barceloneta (the beach), Gaudi's Sagrada Familia (a giant church), and pretty much all of the other sites that we missed the day before. We even spent and hour or so walking through Gaudi's famous Parc Guell where this picture of Dad and Bana was taken.
And later that night we ate at the Hard Rock cafe in Barcelona, where we were fortunate enough to get a Maragrita and a real american hamburger!
Barcelona was an absoultely amazing city except for all of the Catalan everywhere instead of spanish. The entire city was redone to host the 1992 Olympics, so everything along the port and the "touristy" areas are cleaned daily and in really good condition. Dad was saying that he couldn't get over how beautiful the city was despite what he originally thought was going to be an old and trashy place. Even as much as Bana and I enjoy the small places, Barcelona is definitely a must see while you're in Spain. Just be prepared to walk or pay the metro if you don't want to take the tour bus.
Anyway, on Tuesday morning after spending Sunday and Monday in Barcelona, Dad went with us back to Bilbao. Here he basically relaxed around for the rest of the week while Bana and I were in class. In quite a contrast to Barcelona, life in Bilbao takes on a much slower pace of life, and enjoying Bilbao is about enjoying relaxing around in the different sites around the city. We took him to the Funicular to get the panaorama of Bilbao. We ate pintxos (tapas) in several bars at night. We took him to an Erasmus Party, and of course to the Guggenheim Museum.
Overall, I think he enjoyed the trip, and of course it was good to see him after being away so long. Just like when Bana's parents came up in March, I didn't want to see him go back to the States. But, we've only got two short weeks left here in Bilbao then it's on to London, Dublin, and back home to Texas.
Until then,
Cade
A few quick words about overnight buses for those of you considering them:
1. The tickets for overnight buses cost the same as ones during the day, but the advantage comes from not having to pay for a night of hostel.
2. Bus seats are never comfortable enough to sleep well in unless you bring a pillow.
3. It is possible to sleep on the bus, but they stop every few hours, according to Spanish law.
4. Every time they stop they make an announcement and turn on all of the lights.
5. Despite all of this, it is possible to rest while on the bus. Just be prepared. Bring something to cover your eyes and a pillow (and pray that the guy or girl behind you doesn't snore).
6. The big thing to realize is that you will probably be tired the entire next day after the ride. How tired depends on your preparation. Hostels cost money, but walking around half asleep can cost you more in the long run.
All of that being said, we met Dad at the airport train station and basically went straight to sightseeing. About an hour into walking around, we realized that Barcelona is absolutely massive on a European scale.
We started on La Rambla, which is Barcelona's huge pedestrian street what leads directly from the Plaza Cataluña to the Port. From there, we went to the huge statue of Christopher Columbus "pointing toward the horizon in search of the New World" overlooking the Port. Strolling along the harbor, we cut back up into the Gothic Quarter and Dad got to see his first Spanish cathedral. From there we headed to the Plaza Cataluña and took a video panoramic from inside of the huge circular Plaza, complete with pigeons and plenty of young Spanish children running around playing with them.
About this time, we realized that there was no way that we could walk around and see everything we wanted to see, so we hopped onto a touristic bus from Plaza Cataluña to check out the sights. And sights there were.
The bus ran two lines, the East Route and the West Route. We started on the East Route.
The first place we stopped gave us the best view over Barcelona that we found. From the Mirador (viewpoint) your could see almost all of Barcelona stretching between the mountains and the sea. Honestly, it was one of the most breathtaking views I've seen in Europe. I'll post a picture of that scene as soon as I can get one from Dad (our camera was dead on the first day), but here's the link to everything else that we took.
Continuing on the bus tour, we rode past the 1992 Olympic Stadium, the Museu Nacional de Arte Cataluña, the Plaza de España, Avenida Diagonal, and finished back at Plaza Cataluña. At all of these places, you can get off, take pictures, tour the site, etc., but we decided to stay on since we hadn't had much sleep the night before. Dad had been on a plane for 15 hours and we were on a bus for 7 hours. We all were tired. We just didn't know how tired...
We got back to the hostel around 4PM, checked in and went to sleep...for a nap...or so we thought... We finally got up and out of bed the next morning around 7AM after having slept for 15 hours each. Needless to say, we all felt very refreshed.
The next day we took the other route on the Bus tour and saw the Olympic Village, Barceloneta (the beach), Gaudi's Sagrada Familia (a giant church), and pretty much all of the other sites that we missed the day before. We even spent and hour or so walking through Gaudi's famous Parc Guell where this picture of Dad and Bana was taken.And later that night we ate at the Hard Rock cafe in Barcelona, where we were fortunate enough to get a Maragrita and a real american hamburger!
Barcelona was an absoultely amazing city except for all of the Catalan everywhere instead of spanish. The entire city was redone to host the 1992 Olympics, so everything along the port and the "touristy" areas are cleaned daily and in really good condition. Dad was saying that he couldn't get over how beautiful the city was despite what he originally thought was going to be an old and trashy place. Even as much as Bana and I enjoy the small places, Barcelona is definitely a must see while you're in Spain. Just be prepared to walk or pay the metro if you don't want to take the tour bus.
Anyway, on Tuesday morning after spending Sunday and Monday in Barcelona, Dad went with us back to Bilbao. Here he basically relaxed around for the rest of the week while Bana and I were in class. In quite a contrast to Barcelona, life in Bilbao takes on a much slower pace of life, and enjoying Bilbao is about enjoying relaxing around in the different sites around the city. We took him to the Funicular to get the panaorama of Bilbao. We ate pintxos (tapas) in several bars at night. We took him to an Erasmus Party, and of course to the Guggenheim Museum.
Overall, I think he enjoyed the trip, and of course it was good to see him after being away so long. Just like when Bana's parents came up in March, I didn't want to see him go back to the States. But, we've only got two short weeks left here in Bilbao then it's on to London, Dublin, and back home to Texas.
Until then,
Cade
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Rivalry in Rome
We left Texas in January. Texas, apparently, hasn’t left us.
St. Peter wiped his eyes
And said, "It's not so hard to see
They're meant for Paradise."
To any and all of our readers whose loyalties lie in College Station, and to those readers whose loyalties rightfully lie in Austin, this one’s for you. And for those whose loyalties lie in Norman, what are you thinking? (Just kidding...) Seriously, everything I’m about to say is all for fun – I’m not sure I can even talk smack when I’m thousands of miles away.
So, as we left the Colosseum, our heads still reeling from the grandeur of this ancient 2000-year-old amphitheater, we see graffiti of the most vulgar type – Aggie Graffiti. I even had to do a double-take to make sure, but sure enough, among all the “Jessica wuz here”s and the “B luvs C"s, was this unmistakable Texas A&M University insignia.
Okay, this gets better.
So, once we left the Colosseum , we toured Vatican City, where of all things was a message from God. An angel, perched up on a corner of Saint Peter’s Basilica, is CLEARLY giving the hook ‘em sign. I promise you, this is an original photo that I took myself and is completely unaltered except for the circle and text. If that’s not a clear message from the heavens, I don’t know what is.
Cade found the perfect quote to complement. Recognize it anyone? Hint: "The Last Corps Trip", by P.H. DuVal Jr. '51
St. Peter wiped his eyes
And said, "It's not so hard to see
They're meant for Paradise."
Aggies have to deface an ancient treasure to get their message across. UT’s got the official Vatican Stamp of Approval. You can’t ask for more than that. :)
Peace,
-Bana
When in Rome, do what the Romans do. Eat gelato.
It's kind of hard to put yourself in the kind of perspective required for Rome when your own country's still in its proverbial infancy. That said, we tried our best and Rome still blew us away.
The Colosseum
I remember reading somewhere once that entry into the Colosseum itself isn't allowed but that's apparently a huge mistake. We walked right up to the ticket sales, paid our 12€ each, and actually got prime access to the ancient relic. We're too poor for the audio guides, but once inside, it seemed it spoke its own history. Though the floor has since eroded away and most of the structures are wearing and tearing, it's easy to visualize the gladiators walking out onto the stage, fighting to the death. It was truly an intense experience. So rich in overwhelming history. We were absolutely blown away. Though they won't actually let you on the ground floor, the balconies are mostly all accessible. I really hate the cliché tourist hot spots, but this is one that was absolutely worthwhile - worth the flight to Rome, worth the two nights in the Roman hostel rooms with the two guys who snore way too loud, worth the 12€ ticket, and worth the hour it took to wait in line. Seeing history for ourselves was worth every penny.
The Gelato
Mmmm. Gelato. Real gelato. Because you can't go to Italy and not try its addicting ice cream, we had our share the second day there, when the weather was hot and sunny - prime climate to dig in gelato. After finishing our picnic lunches (grilled cheese and fries, cooked at the hostel the night before), we took our sacred gelatos and enjoyed them at the park, taking in the beautiful Roman weather, the Roman ruins surrounding us, and the Roman hobos.
The Food
When my parents visited us from the states and we all went to Pisa, we tried our very first authentic Italian food. Since then, Italian food has been our favorite in Europe. Rome is no different. We ate at this charming pizzaria our first day in Rome, and suffice it to say, Spanish food can't hold a candle to the bounty in Italy. Mmmm.
The Roman Ruins
Much like the Colosseum, the Roman Ruins were awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping and downright incredible. And, like the Colosseum, their history spoke for themselves. If we would have had the time, I would have spent hours perusing the ancient ruins, but our vacation was limited and we could only take a quick glance-over, snap a few photos and go. In all this, it still amazes me that when the Roman Empire had reached its peak, our own country (which, in a trio with China and Japan now headlines the global economy), was absolutely nothing.
The Vatican
We really only saw Saint Peter's Basilica, but that church alone put all the Spanish cathedrals to shame. Every inch of the church is covered with some intricate thing, whether it's alabaster figures protruding from the walls, ornate marble columns or solid gold trim. The density of the church, with all the decorations, just make other cathedrals seem so barren and empty. The entrance was free - nice for your average broke college kid - but we waited in line for well over an hour to get inside. We also went underground, where the papal tombs are, including the last pope. Seeing the Vatican guards in their interesting costumes was well worth it. Google it, and you'll see what I mean.
The Other Cool Stuff
The city itself is littered with blatant Roman architecture. You could be blindfolded and dropped from the sky and within a minute's time, you'd be able to tell you're not only in Italy, but in Rome. Various fountains (Trevi Fountain being a perfect example) are scattered through the city and all reflect the Roman mythological gods and goddesses.
Pictures
I've got lots of them (and I do mean lots of them) here. My parents gave me an amazing camera for Christmas before we left, and as cool as it is taking pictures everywhere we go, it means I've got about 2000 pictures to sort through, print out, and organize into a photo album once we get back. Whew! But, on a side note, I'm having so much fun taking pictures across the world that I may just drop everything and become a travel photographer. Better yet, a travel photojournalist! Thoughts? :)
All in all, Rome has something for the history buffs and gelato lovers alike. If you're both, like me, it's beyond amazing. And tasty.
Ciao, mi amigos.
-Bana
The Colosseum
I remember reading somewhere once that entry into the Colosseum itself isn't allowed but that's apparently a huge mistake. We walked right up to the ticket sales, paid our 12€ each, and actually got prime access to the ancient relic. We're too poor for the audio guides, but once inside, it seemed it spoke its own history. Though the floor has since eroded away and most of the structures are wearing and tearing, it's easy to visualize the gladiators walking out onto the stage, fighting to the death. It was truly an intense experience. So rich in overwhelming history. We were absolutely blown away. Though they won't actually let you on the ground floor, the balconies are mostly all accessible. I really hate the cliché tourist hot spots, but this is one that was absolutely worthwhile - worth the flight to Rome, worth the two nights in the Roman hostel rooms with the two guys who snore way too loud, worth the 12€ ticket, and worth the hour it took to wait in line. Seeing history for ourselves was worth every penny.
The GelatoMmmm. Gelato. Real gelato. Because you can't go to Italy and not try its addicting ice cream, we had our share the second day there, when the weather was hot and sunny - prime climate to dig in gelato. After finishing our picnic lunches (grilled cheese and fries, cooked at the hostel the night before), we took our sacred gelatos and enjoyed them at the park, taking in the beautiful Roman weather, the Roman ruins surrounding us, and the Roman hobos.
The Food
When my parents visited us from the states and we all went to Pisa, we tried our very first authentic Italian food. Since then, Italian food has been our favorite in Europe. Rome is no different. We ate at this charming pizzaria our first day in Rome, and suffice it to say, Spanish food can't hold a candle to the bounty in Italy. Mmmm.
The Roman Ruins
Much like the Colosseum, the Roman Ruins were awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping and downright incredible. And, like the Colosseum, their history spoke for themselves. If we would have had the time, I would have spent hours perusing the ancient ruins, but our vacation was limited and we could only take a quick glance-over, snap a few photos and go. In all this, it still amazes me that when the Roman Empire had reached its peak, our own country (which, in a trio with China and Japan now headlines the global economy), was absolutely nothing.
The Vatican
We really only saw Saint Peter's Basilica, but that church alone put all the Spanish cathedrals to shame. Every inch of the church is covered with some intricate thing, whether it's alabaster figures protruding from the walls, ornate marble columns or solid gold trim. The density of the church, with all the decorations, just make other cathedrals seem so barren and empty. The entrance was free - nice for your average broke college kid - but we waited in line for well over an hour to get inside. We also went underground, where the papal tombs are, including the last pope. Seeing the Vatican guards in their interesting costumes was well worth it. Google it, and you'll see what I mean.
The Other Cool Stuff
The city itself is littered with blatant Roman architecture. You could be blindfolded and dropped from the sky and within a minute's time, you'd be able to tell you're not only in Italy, but in Rome. Various fountains (Trevi Fountain being a perfect example) are scattered through the city and all reflect the Roman mythological gods and goddesses.
Pictures
I've got lots of them (and I do mean lots of them) here. My parents gave me an amazing camera for Christmas before we left, and as cool as it is taking pictures everywhere we go, it means I've got about 2000 pictures to sort through, print out, and organize into a photo album once we get back. Whew! But, on a side note, I'm having so much fun taking pictures across the world that I may just drop everything and become a travel photographer. Better yet, a travel photojournalist! Thoughts? :)
All in all, Rome has something for the history buffs and gelato lovers alike. If you're both, like me, it's beyond amazing. And tasty.
Ciao, mi amigos.
-Bana
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