Did you miss reading the blog? Here's some behind the scenes, never seen before footage from Europe!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Friday, May 8, 2009
Death In The Afternoon
April 23rd
I'm at the bullfight and it's hot, sitting in the sol, not the sombra. The bullfight starts at 6:30 with 6 bulls and 3 matadors or toreros scheduled to perform. The bullfight has been immortalized in movies and in Ernest Hemingway's book, Death in the Afternoon. Seville's bullring is the Plaza de Toros owned by the Real Maestranza, a group of Seville noble families. Of all the 3 bullfighters, only one is from Spain, Antonio Barrera, from Seville. The other two bullfighters are from other countries, France and Colombia.
Everyone dresses in their best to go to a bullfight, is a primary social event from April to October in Sevilla.
Contrary to popular belief, a bullfight is not a sport in Spain. It's separate from the sports pages in the daily newspaper. The bullfight is also broadcasted live on TV in Seville. It's quite a unique experience, part religion-part dance. The bullfight comes in 3 main acts or terceros. The first act is when a group of men on horses in traditional 17th century come out into the ring and followed by the matadors and their entourages. The 2nd is act begins is when the bull is released into the ring and part of the bullfighter's entourage, stirs up the bull. This is followed by two men on horseback with horses that are padded in case of being gored by the bull. The men or picadors circle the bull before plunging their lance into the neck of the bull. The picadors exit out of the ring for the next and final act. The final act consists of bandilleros and the matador. The bandilleros jobs are to take two wooden, colorful stakes and fearlessly drive them into the neck and back of the bull. This involves precariously following every inch of the bull's movements and leaping to avoid horns. After this, the matador with his signature red cape comes out into the ring.
What separates a good bullfighter from a not so good one is how well the bullfighter can keep up with the bull's movements. Also, the bulls are NOT enraged at the sight of a red cape, they are colorblind and follow movement. These bulls are specifically bred just for the bullfights.
The matadors wear flashy costumes, called the suit of lights, it sparkles and glistens in the sun and in the setting sun. Their steps in the bullring is very pretentious and full of swagger.
You hear chants of Ole! and Bien as the bullfighter and the bull precariously dance back and forth as the cape is whisked back and forth and finally the bull rears his head and the matador plunges his sword in the neck of the bull and bull takes a few last steps and collapses dead on the sand and the bull's body is dragged out of the arena by a team of horses. On to the next bullfight.
If you're lucky and hear the praises from the crowd and the waving of white handkerchiefs, and you see a matador with an oreja or a bull's ear, he has won bullfight and praise for the evening. On to the next bullfight.
That is death in the afternoon.
I'm at the bullfight and it's hot, sitting in the sol, not the sombra. The bullfight starts at 6:30 with 6 bulls and 3 matadors or toreros scheduled to perform. The bullfight has been immortalized in movies and in Ernest Hemingway's book, Death in the Afternoon. Seville's bullring is the Plaza de Toros owned by the Real Maestranza, a group of Seville noble families. Of all the 3 bullfighters, only one is from Spain, Antonio Barrera, from Seville. The other two bullfighters are from other countries, France and Colombia.
Everyone dresses in their best to go to a bullfight, is a primary social event from April to October in Sevilla.
Contrary to popular belief, a bullfight is not a sport in Spain. It's separate from the sports pages in the daily newspaper. The bullfight is also broadcasted live on TV in Seville. It's quite a unique experience, part religion-part dance. The bullfight comes in 3 main acts or terceros. The first act is when a group of men on horses in traditional 17th century come out into the ring and followed by the matadors and their entourages. The 2nd is act begins is when the bull is released into the ring and part of the bullfighter's entourage, stirs up the bull. This is followed by two men on horseback with horses that are padded in case of being gored by the bull. The men or picadors circle the bull before plunging their lance into the neck of the bull. The picadors exit out of the ring for the next and final act. The final act consists of bandilleros and the matador. The bandilleros jobs are to take two wooden, colorful stakes and fearlessly drive them into the neck and back of the bull. This involves precariously following every inch of the bull's movements and leaping to avoid horns. After this, the matador with his signature red cape comes out into the ring.
What separates a good bullfighter from a not so good one is how well the bullfighter can keep up with the bull's movements. Also, the bulls are NOT enraged at the sight of a red cape, they are colorblind and follow movement. These bulls are specifically bred just for the bullfights.
The matadors wear flashy costumes, called the suit of lights, it sparkles and glistens in the sun and in the setting sun. Their steps in the bullring is very pretentious and full of swagger.
You hear chants of Ole! and Bien as the bullfighter and the bull precariously dance back and forth as the cape is whisked back and forth and finally the bull rears his head and the matador plunges his sword in the neck of the bull and bull takes a few last steps and collapses dead on the sand and the bull's body is dragged out of the arena by a team of horses. On to the next bullfight.
If you're lucky and hear the praises from the crowd and the waving of white handkerchiefs, and you see a matador with an oreja or a bull's ear, he has won bullfight and praise for the evening. On to the next bullfight.
That is death in the afternoon.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Morroco and Roll
Africa.
You hear about it. You see it on the world news. Most people have the idea of the Africa is what they see on the Discovery Channel or it's all the desert and the Serengetti and guys with spears chasing after you.
Oh yeah. Kenyan marathon runners.
However my thoughts of Africa were exactly like that, Muslim North Africa is there too, but you just don't happen to think of it like that. I think Egypt should be in the Middle East along with the rest of Muslim North Africa.
My perceptions changed greatly when I visited on Saturday. Even though, I went across the Straights of Gibraltar from Tarifa, Spain ( the southernmost point of mainland Europe.) to Tangiers, Morocco. Yeah, it's a seedy border town, but then again, what border town isn't?
Tangiers was occupied by the Spanish during the Spanish Civil War until the mid 1950's when Morocco gained dual independency from the French and the Spanish. Everything from Rabat down was French controlled. Tangiers was an international city during these times, with the publisher of Forbes magazine living in Tangiers. Now, Morocco is a 3rd world nation. You don't realize how lucky you have it, until you see how the other half lives. Tangiers makes Pleasant Grove or South Dallas look like Highland Park.
I left Tarifa, Spain, which is also the wind-capital of Spain as well, I went with my buddy Aaron and we caught a 35 min ferry to Tangiers. You can SEE Africa from Tarifa. Pretty surreal.
Stepping off the port, you are immediately hounded by guides run by the tourism office. The way they handles guides and the rest of the modern world handles tourism is a little bit more, ahem, official. The guide offered to show us around the very confusing city which they speak Berber, Arabic, and French. In terms of having a guide or walking around by ourselves, I'm glad we did the guide. The guide made sure we didn't get hounded by scores of people or possibly even robbed. We got offered and haggled with to buy all sorts of things.
I did however, get a silk rug from Morocco for 20 euro and some Moroccan spices to cook with. The guide did show us the Old Market, Medina, and places in between, the Mosque, this bakery. We had Moroccan Whiskey aka Mint Tea. Since Morocco is an Islamic country, alcohol is not allowed, but it's called whiskey because they drink so much of it. Drinking mint tea is a display of hospitality to foreigners. I tried on a traditional Moroccan "suit" looks like something from Star Wars and I stepped off the Planet Tatoonie.
Walking around on the very narrow streets, which are smaller than Sevilla's was confusing and glad we didn't do it alone. There are people on every turn, either trying to sell you something or going about their daily lives. They make traditional Moroccan clothes by hand and make the flat bread in an oven in a non descript building. Most of the streets still have the French names but are slowly turning into Arabic. When we first got there we heard the Muslim call to prayer coming from the Mosque and the minaret and then saw all the men, shift their mats, and pray to Mecca. I had never seen that done before in my life.
Yep, definitely a different country.
Morocco was interesting to see and I can always say I went to Africa for the day and experienced culture. I don't know if I would want to go back soon, but if I did it'd be too Casablanca or Marrakesh.
The rest of the trip consisted of a missed ferry, which turned into a missed bus, plus a crazy adventure of planning on how to get back to Sevilla. Aaron and I opted to take the bus to Cadiz and sleep their for 7 hours and then get up the next morning and go to Sevilla.
I got in at 8:30 am.
Last night, I went to take my host dad to see Real Betis, the other team in Sevilla as a gesture of my appreciation and thanks for everything over the past 4 months. We had pretty sweet seats, good view of the field and Puente de Almolillo. Betis beat Sporting Gijon from Asturias (northeast Spain) 2-0.
Mucho Betis!
The gaunlet is this week 4 exams and then to Berlin and Prague on Friday.
This is the only time that I have traveled that I felt like I was in a truly different environment and overly cautious and at times, nervous.
You hear about it. You see it on the world news. Most people have the idea of the Africa is what they see on the Discovery Channel or it's all the desert and the Serengetti and guys with spears chasing after you.
Oh yeah. Kenyan marathon runners.
However my thoughts of Africa were exactly like that, Muslim North Africa is there too, but you just don't happen to think of it like that. I think Egypt should be in the Middle East along with the rest of Muslim North Africa.
My perceptions changed greatly when I visited on Saturday. Even though, I went across the Straights of Gibraltar from Tarifa, Spain ( the southernmost point of mainland Europe.) to Tangiers, Morocco. Yeah, it's a seedy border town, but then again, what border town isn't?
Tangiers was occupied by the Spanish during the Spanish Civil War until the mid 1950's when Morocco gained dual independency from the French and the Spanish. Everything from Rabat down was French controlled. Tangiers was an international city during these times, with the publisher of Forbes magazine living in Tangiers. Now, Morocco is a 3rd world nation. You don't realize how lucky you have it, until you see how the other half lives. Tangiers makes Pleasant Grove or South Dallas look like Highland Park.
I left Tarifa, Spain, which is also the wind-capital of Spain as well, I went with my buddy Aaron and we caught a 35 min ferry to Tangiers. You can SEE Africa from Tarifa. Pretty surreal.
Stepping off the port, you are immediately hounded by guides run by the tourism office. The way they handles guides and the rest of the modern world handles tourism is a little bit more, ahem, official. The guide offered to show us around the very confusing city which they speak Berber, Arabic, and French. In terms of having a guide or walking around by ourselves, I'm glad we did the guide. The guide made sure we didn't get hounded by scores of people or possibly even robbed. We got offered and haggled with to buy all sorts of things.
I did however, get a silk rug from Morocco for 20 euro and some Moroccan spices to cook with. The guide did show us the Old Market, Medina, and places in between, the Mosque, this bakery. We had Moroccan Whiskey aka Mint Tea. Since Morocco is an Islamic country, alcohol is not allowed, but it's called whiskey because they drink so much of it. Drinking mint tea is a display of hospitality to foreigners. I tried on a traditional Moroccan "suit" looks like something from Star Wars and I stepped off the Planet Tatoonie.
Walking around on the very narrow streets, which are smaller than Sevilla's was confusing and glad we didn't do it alone. There are people on every turn, either trying to sell you something or going about their daily lives. They make traditional Moroccan clothes by hand and make the flat bread in an oven in a non descript building. Most of the streets still have the French names but are slowly turning into Arabic. When we first got there we heard the Muslim call to prayer coming from the Mosque and the minaret and then saw all the men, shift their mats, and pray to Mecca. I had never seen that done before in my life.
Yep, definitely a different country.
Morocco was interesting to see and I can always say I went to Africa for the day and experienced culture. I don't know if I would want to go back soon, but if I did it'd be too Casablanca or Marrakesh.
The rest of the trip consisted of a missed ferry, which turned into a missed bus, plus a crazy adventure of planning on how to get back to Sevilla. Aaron and I opted to take the bus to Cadiz and sleep their for 7 hours and then get up the next morning and go to Sevilla.
I got in at 8:30 am.
Last night, I went to take my host dad to see Real Betis, the other team in Sevilla as a gesture of my appreciation and thanks for everything over the past 4 months. We had pretty sweet seats, good view of the field and Puente de Almolillo. Betis beat Sporting Gijon from Asturias (northeast Spain) 2-0.
Mucho Betis!
The gaunlet is this week 4 exams and then to Berlin and Prague on Friday.
This is the only time that I have traveled that I felt like I was in a truly different environment and overly cautious and at times, nervous.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The End is Near
Semana Santa came and went. I went back to the beach of the Sevillanos, Matalascanas, this past weekend and just stretched myself out on the beach and drifted off into contentment.
This week has already flown by because we started on Tuesday and the weekend is almost here.
I only have 4 days left of school and roughly 2 and half weeks left in this country before I come back to Mesquite,TX, USA.
A week from Friday, I am headed to Berlin, Germany and Prague, Czech Republic to visit one of my fraternity brothers who is studying there. (More of that to come.)
I have La Feria in Spain next :)
This week has already flown by because we started on Tuesday and the weekend is almost here.
I only have 4 days left of school and roughly 2 and half weeks left in this country before I come back to Mesquite,TX, USA.
A week from Friday, I am headed to Berlin, Germany and Prague, Czech Republic to visit one of my fraternity brothers who is studying there. (More of that to come.)
I have La Feria in Spain next :)
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Semana Santa
It's Holy Week here in Spain. It takes the Easter holidays to a whole new level. Semana Santa is basically a centuries old tradition of celebrating and honoring the passion of Christ in a week of pasos or floats that weight 1 ton or more and are carried by 30 to 40 men, that every so slowly, step by step, go through the city. This process takes 8 hours or more. The Holy Week processions are led first by musicians, playing a funeral dirge type music, followed by scary KKK looking guys called "Nazarenos". These people can be male, female, and children very young. After them is followed by a paso, usually with a depiction of Christ's way to the cross. Regardless of what you believe, it is still a moving sight to be hold. There are throngs of people waiting hours to see one paso go by and you wouldnt believe the silence that over takes the crowd as it passes by. It gives me chills and how eerily symbolic and ritualistic it is. Next paso, features the Virgin Mary. This paso too, weighs between a 1 ton or more.
Last night I went to view two pasos, one was the paso de San Bernarndo. This paso featured Christ on the cross. I went and viewed pasos with a former professor of mine here, who's a grad student and her Sevilla friends, a couple who is studying English at the Univeristy of Seville. They invited me to go with them to the guy's hometown of Santiponce, you may remember that it is also the home to the Roman ruins of Italica. The paso of Italica featured Christ carrying the cross. The moving part of this is how they manage to take the paso through town and into the parish chapel. 40 guys simultaneous, who are basically going in blind have to go backwards on their knees, manuever the paso into the church. Quite, moving and incredible. To do this they "showboated" first and made the paso move and dance. Before the paso went into the church, there was a lament and ballad style prayer to the paso, sung acapella. Very moving and gave me chills. The next paso was of the Virgin Mary, there was also another ballad sung to her. No one talked and paid reverance to both pasos. For one day, everyone was Catholic.
What was cool about the experience, is here I was probably the only Texas, much less the only other American, besides my teacher, who witnessed this paso in a small town setting.
Oh yeah, I spoke mainly Spanish for 6 hours.
Viva la vida and viva la aventura!
It'll be bittersweet when I leave in less than a month.
Last night I went to view two pasos, one was the paso de San Bernarndo. This paso featured Christ on the cross. I went and viewed pasos with a former professor of mine here, who's a grad student and her Sevilla friends, a couple who is studying English at the Univeristy of Seville. They invited me to go with them to the guy's hometown of Santiponce, you may remember that it is also the home to the Roman ruins of Italica. The paso of Italica featured Christ carrying the cross. The moving part of this is how they manage to take the paso through town and into the parish chapel. 40 guys simultaneous, who are basically going in blind have to go backwards on their knees, manuever the paso into the church. Quite, moving and incredible. To do this they "showboated" first and made the paso move and dance. Before the paso went into the church, there was a lament and ballad style prayer to the paso, sung acapella. Very moving and gave me chills. The next paso was of the Virgin Mary, there was also another ballad sung to her. No one talked and paid reverance to both pasos. For one day, everyone was Catholic.
What was cool about the experience, is here I was probably the only Texas, much less the only other American, besides my teacher, who witnessed this paso in a small town setting.
Oh yeah, I spoke mainly Spanish for 6 hours.
Viva la vida and viva la aventura!
It'll be bittersweet when I leave in less than a month.
The Dubliners
Well everyone, I arrived back from my trip to Dublin on the lovely Emerald Isle. Ireland is famous for its Irish music, the mass exodus to New York, courtesty of the potato, famous authors, and lest we forget, beer and whiskey.
I left Sevilla on Saturday with my buddy Jay, and we flew to Dublin. The first day was pretty lo-key, just trying to get situated in our hostel and walk around the city. It was pretty strange walking around and hearing ENGLISH. Really it was, after leaving in a non-English speaking country for 3 months. I caught myself several times responding and asking questions in Spanish. I didn't realize how much I had learned after all.
Dublin is such a cool city. Right now, it ranks on Lance's list of favorite places I've been too ever. The people are extremely friendly, there is an abundance of redheads, and the culture is completely different. The city is a very clean city and very tourist friendly. Case in point, the street that my hostel was on had probably 12 or 13 hostels in a row. There is a river that flows through the heart of Dublin, the River Liffey, It's not the Thames, the Mississippi or the Seine, but keep in mind most major European cities are built on rivers. The first night in Dublin, Jay and I decided to do what any other self respecting, English speaking, guys would do...head down to the pub for a pint! The pub culture is really cool, I wish they had it in America. The pubs are actually more of an old guy hangout, kind of like the cevecerias here in Spain. My first Irish pub ever was at this place called the Millenium, across two streets from the Guinness Brewery. Our bartender had the thickest Welsh accent and we could barely understand except for:
Bartender: Whatcha you readin?
Jay: My Ireland guidebook.
Bartender: I see it's from 2005, not much has changed here in 4 years.
But sitting in a pub, drinking a Guinness straight out of Dublin, probably ranks on my list of great experiences.
On the way back from the pub, we stopped through the trendy bar district, called "Temple Bar" It was a really cool area. As we kept walking, we saw a green car, with the sticker, "University of North Texas."
Lance and Jay: I think that says the University of North Texas, No way.
Guy: Are you guys from Texas, yeah?
Lance: Yeah we are, we're students at Texas Tech, but here in Dublin on the weekend, since we are currently students in Seville, Spain.
Guy: Yeah, I graduated from UNT in 1998.
Lance: No way, that's awesome.
Guy: What part of Texas are you guys from?
L&J: Mesquite and Plano.
Guy: My first job out of college was working for the Mesquite Newspaper.
Lance: That's such a small world
Lance: What brings you to Dublin?
Guy: My mother is native Irish, and I've lived over here in Dublin for 8 years now.
Yeah, small world.
On to Day 2. Day 2 was spent seeing as many sites as possible. We visited the Trinty College of Dublin, the home to the Book of Kells. One of the oldest, most preserved illuminated manuscripts of the Bible. Trinity College was such a beautiful campus and reminds me of what a college is supposed to look like. Jay and I visited both the Guinness Brewery and the Old Jameson Distillery. The Guinness Brewery tour was 7 stories tall. It highlighted the beer making, the history, the advertising and so forth. At the end of the tour, was the opportunity to receive the Guinness straight from the source and look upon the city in a 360 degree viewing area of the city. Simply amazing to see the city, the Irish sea, and the Dublin and Wicklow mountains. Next was on to the Old Jameson Distillery. Jameson is another staple of Dublin, producing Irish whiskey. That was a fascinating tour as well, and that making whiskey is a bit more complicated than it looks. I didn't know that American whiskey is only distilled once, and Scotch is distilled twice. One, Twice, Three times a Lady. After the tour, we went to go see St. Patrick's Cathedral. The cathedral really was a beautiful structure on the outside, very old and very Anglo-Saxon looking. Our last big adventure of the day was going to a town called Howth, on the Irish sea and suburb of Dublin. This is what I imagined an Irish fishing village and town to look like. Docks, and small houses lining the water. We went to go have fresh seafood at this rather nice restraurant and it was tasty because I had seafood chowder and crab legs to eat.
Day 3
On Day 3 we took the Irish rail to Cork and went to go on our pilgrimage to kiss the Blarney Stone at Blarney Castle. For those of you who don't know what the Blarney Stone is, it's believed to give who ever kisses it, the gift of eloquence. Apparently, it worked for Winston Churchill.
Blarney was a perfect representation of what Ireland is supposed to be. It had very green hills and pastures with a bubbling creek, and a small town. This is the Ireland I wanted to see so badly. After touring the Blarney Stone, Jay decided it was a good idea for me to talk to this girl who walked by, and issued a man challenge to me. So I took it and went on a stroll through the gardens and trails by the Blarney Castle and talked to this chica, named Allison who is studying in France and goes to school in Portland, Oregon. Too bad, she has a bf.
Well after me attempting to be Don Juan, I missed my bus back to Cork. Being the ever clever man I am, I hailed a taxi and made it back with minutes to spare. My cabbie was pretty cool, in fact the took Irish cabbies I had were awesome. Good news, I made it to the train station in time.
On our last night in Dublin, Jay and I decided to go on a mini pub crawl. We started at an old man pub called Malloys, went to the "oldest" pub in Dublin, the Brazen Head and heard live music, and finished at Malloys.
Again. It's great to be 21 and traveling Europe.
At 5am the next morning, we left and scurried to the airport, via a cabbie with a ridiculously thicj Irish accent and I quote as we were leaving the cab...
"Best of luck to ya lads, come back Ireland and see us."
Yes sir, we will.
I left Sevilla on Saturday with my buddy Jay, and we flew to Dublin. The first day was pretty lo-key, just trying to get situated in our hostel and walk around the city. It was pretty strange walking around and hearing ENGLISH. Really it was, after leaving in a non-English speaking country for 3 months. I caught myself several times responding and asking questions in Spanish. I didn't realize how much I had learned after all.
Dublin is such a cool city. Right now, it ranks on Lance's list of favorite places I've been too ever. The people are extremely friendly, there is an abundance of redheads, and the culture is completely different. The city is a very clean city and very tourist friendly. Case in point, the street that my hostel was on had probably 12 or 13 hostels in a row. There is a river that flows through the heart of Dublin, the River Liffey, It's not the Thames, the Mississippi or the Seine, but keep in mind most major European cities are built on rivers. The first night in Dublin, Jay and I decided to do what any other self respecting, English speaking, guys would do...head down to the pub for a pint! The pub culture is really cool, I wish they had it in America. The pubs are actually more of an old guy hangout, kind of like the cevecerias here in Spain. My first Irish pub ever was at this place called the Millenium, across two streets from the Guinness Brewery. Our bartender had the thickest Welsh accent and we could barely understand except for:
Bartender: Whatcha you readin?
Jay: My Ireland guidebook.
Bartender: I see it's from 2005, not much has changed here in 4 years.
But sitting in a pub, drinking a Guinness straight out of Dublin, probably ranks on my list of great experiences.
On the way back from the pub, we stopped through the trendy bar district, called "Temple Bar" It was a really cool area. As we kept walking, we saw a green car, with the sticker, "University of North Texas."
Lance and Jay: I think that says the University of North Texas, No way.
Guy: Are you guys from Texas, yeah?
Lance: Yeah we are, we're students at Texas Tech, but here in Dublin on the weekend, since we are currently students in Seville, Spain.
Guy: Yeah, I graduated from UNT in 1998.
Lance: No way, that's awesome.
Guy: What part of Texas are you guys from?
L&J: Mesquite and Plano.
Guy: My first job out of college was working for the Mesquite Newspaper.
Lance: That's such a small world
Lance: What brings you to Dublin?
Guy: My mother is native Irish, and I've lived over here in Dublin for 8 years now.
Yeah, small world.
On to Day 2. Day 2 was spent seeing as many sites as possible. We visited the Trinty College of Dublin, the home to the Book of Kells. One of the oldest, most preserved illuminated manuscripts of the Bible. Trinity College was such a beautiful campus and reminds me of what a college is supposed to look like. Jay and I visited both the Guinness Brewery and the Old Jameson Distillery. The Guinness Brewery tour was 7 stories tall. It highlighted the beer making, the history, the advertising and so forth. At the end of the tour, was the opportunity to receive the Guinness straight from the source and look upon the city in a 360 degree viewing area of the city. Simply amazing to see the city, the Irish sea, and the Dublin and Wicklow mountains. Next was on to the Old Jameson Distillery. Jameson is another staple of Dublin, producing Irish whiskey. That was a fascinating tour as well, and that making whiskey is a bit more complicated than it looks. I didn't know that American whiskey is only distilled once, and Scotch is distilled twice. One, Twice, Three times a Lady. After the tour, we went to go see St. Patrick's Cathedral. The cathedral really was a beautiful structure on the outside, very old and very Anglo-Saxon looking. Our last big adventure of the day was going to a town called Howth, on the Irish sea and suburb of Dublin. This is what I imagined an Irish fishing village and town to look like. Docks, and small houses lining the water. We went to go have fresh seafood at this rather nice restraurant and it was tasty because I had seafood chowder and crab legs to eat.
Day 3
On Day 3 we took the Irish rail to Cork and went to go on our pilgrimage to kiss the Blarney Stone at Blarney Castle. For those of you who don't know what the Blarney Stone is, it's believed to give who ever kisses it, the gift of eloquence. Apparently, it worked for Winston Churchill.
Blarney was a perfect representation of what Ireland is supposed to be. It had very green hills and pastures with a bubbling creek, and a small town. This is the Ireland I wanted to see so badly. After touring the Blarney Stone, Jay decided it was a good idea for me to talk to this girl who walked by, and issued a man challenge to me. So I took it and went on a stroll through the gardens and trails by the Blarney Castle and talked to this chica, named Allison who is studying in France and goes to school in Portland, Oregon. Too bad, she has a bf.
Well after me attempting to be Don Juan, I missed my bus back to Cork. Being the ever clever man I am, I hailed a taxi and made it back with minutes to spare. My cabbie was pretty cool, in fact the took Irish cabbies I had were awesome. Good news, I made it to the train station in time.
On our last night in Dublin, Jay and I decided to go on a mini pub crawl. We started at an old man pub called Malloys, went to the "oldest" pub in Dublin, the Brazen Head and heard live music, and finished at Malloys.
Again. It's great to be 21 and traveling Europe.
At 5am the next morning, we left and scurried to the airport, via a cabbie with a ridiculously thicj Irish accent and I quote as we were leaving the cab...
"Best of luck to ya lads, come back Ireland and see us."
Yes sir, we will.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Miles from Ordinary: Part Dos
When you're on an island, what do you do? What every other person and college kid would do...park their butt on the sand and get their tan on. I seriously felt like I was in a Corona commerical, you know the "miles away from ordinary" commercials, yeah, it was like that. Except I didn't throw my cell phone into the water. The beaches were gorgeous, the day started off cloudy again and really windy, like think Lubbock, TX windy. We walked around awhile and went down one end of the beach to the side before deciding on a spot to just lay and relax. Oh just because you're on an island, doesn't mean the water is warm. The Canaries are in the Atlantic, the sun was hot, the water was brisk. The water had this intense color of blue, as it became more shallow, the more intense the blue became, it changed from a royal blue to a teal blue. I swear, I felt like I was England or in Germany with the amount of tourists that took over the beach, all I can say is that old guys in speedos should be permanently banned from the world. But hey, it's Europe, they just don't generally care over here, which is cool though, cause America is so looks driven.
After baking on the beach all day, Colten was like, "dude, let's go to Hooters." Thank you America. However, I was disappointed to say that the food wasn't awesome as in America and the waitresses were subpar, except for this one Spanish girl. Later one, we go back for dinner at this place called Aberdeen Steakhouse. You're probably thinking, "oh wow, expensive, Lance." Not really, For 7.95 euro a piece, we each got a 3 course meal. I got fish with garlic and tomato, it was excellent. Some of the best fish I've had or either I was really really hungry. In between all of this we, decide to go hang out and watch the sunset, except the sun is blocked by the island of La Gomera on the other side, however you can see just enough of it to be highly impressed.
The next day was our last day and we were due back in Sevilla late that night. However that day we missed our bus to El Teide, the volcano that's on the island by a few minutes. However it gives me something to go back and see. So my buddy and I hop on buses and ride around all day hitting the towns of Puerto de La Cruz, which is very Spanish feeling and rugged, how I imagine northern Spain to be. The second town was the capital, Santa Cruz de Tenerife. Santa Cruz has a whole different flair to it than either of the other towns we were in. Santa Cruz has a concert hall designed by some really famous architect and some buildings from the late 17th, 18th century which are cool. I think one of the highlights of the day was seeing black sand beaches and then eating paella at a cafe next to said beaches, watching the waves roll in and crash on the rocks.
We catch a bus towards the end of the day and head back to Tenerife North Airport and get checked in and in line we meet a girl named Holly from Long Island, NY. We meet her in line because we got this look in our eyes when we saw passports that say...Good, another American and not another English or German tourist. We talk to her for awhile and then board the plane. On the plane, I sit next to a nun, who is praying the rosary and probably St. Christopher before our takeoff. Also there was a flamenco group from Sevilla, who probably performed at Mueca, the international festival in Puerto. The said group was also playing their instruments while we were waiting in the Airport. Only in Spain, Only Andalucians. Finally, an entire soccer team, Cordoba S.A.D. boards on the plane. Sounds like a joke..."so a nun, a football team, and a flamenco band walk into this bar..."
We get back to Sevilla around 12:30 in the morning and I don't get home till 1:15 and I don't get into bed until 3 because I have do a thing called schoolwork. But on our walk back home, Colten and I walk Holly back to her apartment, because we all generally live in the same area. To summarize that, we made a new friend and we can hang out with her and her friends. Awesome.
Viva la vida.
So next week look for a Dublin and Semana Santa update.
After baking on the beach all day, Colten was like, "dude, let's go to Hooters." Thank you America. However, I was disappointed to say that the food wasn't awesome as in America and the waitresses were subpar, except for this one Spanish girl. Later one, we go back for dinner at this place called Aberdeen Steakhouse. You're probably thinking, "oh wow, expensive, Lance." Not really, For 7.95 euro a piece, we each got a 3 course meal. I got fish with garlic and tomato, it was excellent. Some of the best fish I've had or either I was really really hungry. In between all of this we, decide to go hang out and watch the sunset, except the sun is blocked by the island of La Gomera on the other side, however you can see just enough of it to be highly impressed.
The next day was our last day and we were due back in Sevilla late that night. However that day we missed our bus to El Teide, the volcano that's on the island by a few minutes. However it gives me something to go back and see. So my buddy and I hop on buses and ride around all day hitting the towns of Puerto de La Cruz, which is very Spanish feeling and rugged, how I imagine northern Spain to be. The second town was the capital, Santa Cruz de Tenerife. Santa Cruz has a whole different flair to it than either of the other towns we were in. Santa Cruz has a concert hall designed by some really famous architect and some buildings from the late 17th, 18th century which are cool. I think one of the highlights of the day was seeing black sand beaches and then eating paella at a cafe next to said beaches, watching the waves roll in and crash on the rocks.
We catch a bus towards the end of the day and head back to Tenerife North Airport and get checked in and in line we meet a girl named Holly from Long Island, NY. We meet her in line because we got this look in our eyes when we saw passports that say...Good, another American and not another English or German tourist. We talk to her for awhile and then board the plane. On the plane, I sit next to a nun, who is praying the rosary and probably St. Christopher before our takeoff. Also there was a flamenco group from Sevilla, who probably performed at Mueca, the international festival in Puerto. The said group was also playing their instruments while we were waiting in the Airport. Only in Spain, Only Andalucians. Finally, an entire soccer team, Cordoba S.A.D. boards on the plane. Sounds like a joke..."so a nun, a football team, and a flamenco band walk into this bar..."
We get back to Sevilla around 12:30 in the morning and I don't get home till 1:15 and I don't get into bed until 3 because I have do a thing called schoolwork. But on our walk back home, Colten and I walk Holly back to her apartment, because we all generally live in the same area. To summarize that, we made a new friend and we can hang out with her and her friends. Awesome.
Viva la vida.
So next week look for a Dublin and Semana Santa update.
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