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
