Florence, the city of endless pizza, pasta, paninis and yoga

Tonight I'm beginning to chronicle my 10 day spring break trip, so I'll start from the beginning: Florence, Italy. 

Reliving AP Art History at its finest...seeing the Duomo in real life

view from atop la Piazza de Michaelangelo 

walking across these bridges and seeing the mountains gave me the most unreal sensation of: "Helloooo, you are in Tuscany"... suffice it to say it was magical.

The Ponte Vecchio

Pictures may speak a thousand words, but my photos of Florence don't do the place justice. I couldn't get the scope of the duomo in a single shot, it was just unfair to the landscape to put a box around what I saw while sitting on top of the Piazza de Michaelangelo at sunset while listening to live acoustic music, and there's simply no way that taking a picture of my Margarita pizza from Gustapizza will ever convey the taste that graced my lips. So I'll try using some words instead.

On Wednesday morning (missing class and volunteering and meeting with my intercambio, again...whoops. But I'm about to embark on a trip to Italy, London, Scotland, and Ireland...priorities people) I left for Florence, via Barcelona. During my 4 hour layover there, I realized that the last time I was sitting in that airport I was coming home early from my trip to France the summer after freshman year, sick, homesick, and pretty much miserable. At that point I couldn't have dreamed in a million years that I would be back in that airport, happier than ever, about to travel to 4 countries in 10 days with my best friends. 

So I arrived in a rainy Florence (precursor to how our entire week would turn out to be) Wednesday afternoon and guess what my first stop was: gelato. My flavors of choice? Coffee crunch and sesame honey swirl. From there I went to Caroline and Kelsey's school with them and researched places to see in Florence while they took a midterm. They weren't on spring break yet, so I filled time of them studying for exams by doing Insanity in their living room, but as soon as I was finished we went to aperitivo hour at Kitsch. Don't know what aperitivo is? I didn't either, but I quickly found out that upon ordering a cocktail at a restaurant that serves aperitivo, you are immediately granted access to an unlimited buffet of decadent, and I mean all-out, Italian-to-the-core dinner options. 

plate number 1...of 3

On Thursday I'm pretty sure I woke up with what can qualify as a food hangover. It was like I couldn't remember where all that deliciousness came from the night before, it was all just a dreamy blur of pesto sauces, fresh salmon fillets, grilled vegetables and meatballs in marinara. Somehow I still managed to eat breakfast before hitting the town by myself while C and K took their last tests. And I have to say, I feel like a semi-pro at exploring new cities on my own now, not to toot my own horn or anything. But I feel like if I navigated Madrid, I can pretty much do anything. My first stop was the Accademia Gallery to see the David. I got there early enough but the line was already out the door and around the corner. I went ahead and got in line but was almost sure that I would head out in a matter of minutes to just walk around the city instead, but a pair of Vietnamese sisters from Virginia got in line behind me and we started talking. Then the woman in front of me turned around after hearing us speak English and explained that she was British but was has now retired to Greece, and then a group of tourists from Mexico standing behind us all got involved when they heard I was studying Spanish and wanted to practice English with me/offer their Spanish for me to practice. So before I knew it I had waited an hour and a half just talking to these random people who had quickly become my friends. I learned quite a bit, too, most importantly that I need to visit Greece at some point in my life, hopefully sooner than later. And from what I can tell living there doesn't sound like too shabby of a deal either. 

Chatting with these folks was honestly one of the highlights of the trip; it epitomizes what its like to be abroad. You immediately bond with anyone if you speak a common language, especially if you're in a place where you are the minority. And when I did finally get inside, the wait  became even more worth it. The David is a masterpiece, and the hype is most definitely not overrated. But by the time I left it was already time to meet back up with Kelsey who had just finished her classes! She took me to the market right by their apartment (SIDENOTE: their apartment is beautiful, I was in love. Huge doorways, tall ceilings, ample living room space [for Insanity and yoga purposes of course], a gorgeous kitchen, wooden floors, huge bedrooms, window views of the duomo, the market, and downtown Florence), and we bought an unnecessary amount of dried fruits to snack on. From there, more walking and exploring until we reached a panini place that I was told I must try. I Fratellini Firenze, I think it was called, is just a little shop/stand with a list of paninis and a list of wines, and no seating. You eat your deliciously crafted panini on to-die-for bread with your perfectly paired mini glass of wine on the street beside the shop. 

After lunch we met up with Caroline who just finished her last exam, and continued to walk around the city. Fun fact I learned while walking? The big, tourist-attracting gelato stores with mounds upon mounds of thick, creamy-looking gelato (I won't lie, it was enticing to me) is a rip-off. It's all air! The good stuff is much less ostentatious and often cheaper). At sunset we walked to the top of the Piazza de Michaelangelo, and boy was I unprepared for the view of Florence I got. The guitarist playing songs like Hallelujah only amplified the surreal feeling of where I was. Italy has always held some kind of magic in my mind. It didn't matter that this was the 3rd or 4th big trip I've taken since being abroad, there was still something unique and special about being in Italy. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I do know that eventually in my life I want to see every part of this country. 

Dinner was Gustapizza, an unpretentious restaurant you might have missed if you walked by at 6:30, but by 7pm a line starts forming around the outside and if you get there much passed then, you'll be waiting for hours to eat. The doors open at 7:30 and you have a choice from 7 or so pizzas and that's it- that's the menu. The choice was easy for me; when you're in a place like this and you know the pizza is going to be the real deal, you gotta go for the Margarita. 

The guys make it right in front of you in the this brick? wood fired? oven? I don't really know, but I watched them make pizza after pizza and call number after number, hoping and praying that the next would be mine. When they finally did call 55 and saw that pizza number 55 looked like it was the best one they'd made all night, my heart skipped a beat and I leaped up to grab it. After combining their special spicy olive oils and balsamic vinegars to dip my crust in to, I was in pizza heaven and I never wanted it to end. 

That being said, I left dinner for the second night in a row feeling absolutely stuffed to my fullest capacity. Luckily it was early enough (dinner at 7:30?!? What is this?!) that I had time to digest while we watched episode after episode of New Girl. 

Although I tried desperately to take a picture of this to document it and prove its truth, none of my attempts worked, but we actually did wake up at 6:55 the next morning to do Insanity all together. Plyometric Cardio Circuit in the triangle formation, just like old times. A quick shower and oatmeal breakfast, and then it was to the train station for the three of us to buy day trip tickets to Lucca, Italy.

My first ever train ride 

The historic part of the city is built within walls that stretch around for 4 kilometers, and we walked along the top of the walls for almost the entire circumference of the town. In warmer, sunnier weather, Lucca would be ideal to rent a bike and cruise around for the afternoon. Although most things were closed for us, we still got the feel for this sleepy, elegant little town just by walking. The shops were expensive, but it was fun to browse around and to admire their famed Buccalleto pastries. Lunch was in a quiet little restaurant where C and K ordered amazing soups and I ordered a sausage pasta. My pasta wasn't anything to write home about, but their soups were crazy good (note to self: if you see a farro soup on a menu in Italy again, order it). After lunch we leisurely walked back to the train station and made it in perfect time to catch the 3:30 train back to Florence. 

Upon arriving, we changed clothes and headed out for another highlight of my week: a yoga class. This yoga class, I did not know, was advanced Ashtanga- something I've only practiced maybe twice before. On top of that, it was in Italian! And on top of that we were practically the only girls in the class. But how interesting and cool it was! I realized mid-practice that even though I didn't know the language, the rhythm of the words matched what I'm used to hearing during a practice, and I could follow along without having to look around to my neighbors. It was like an out of body experience to be able to keep up with a class of people who know exactly what they're doing and can understand what's being spoken to them, and to feel one with the people in the room. At this moment it became more apparent to me than ever that yoga is an extremely powerful and unifying force. It can bring people together in a way that I'm not sure any other thing can. My inhales and my exhales are the very same as my Italian mat partners' who I have never met and will never see again when I breathe through sun salutations. And the best part? Savasana. Here they give you blankets to cover up with...basically asking you to fall asleep, but I was in heaven. Everything about the place- the candlelit room, the huge windows opening out to Florence, Italy (I keep having to remind myself that I'm in Italy), the smell of lavender and eucalyptus- was so peaceful. Just what I need my spring break to be. And just the perfect way to end my stay in Florence.

After a delicious salad for dinner, packing for C and K, it was still early but it was time for bed after such a full day. Plus we were getting up at 4am to leave for London...

Lisboa, Portugal

Oh dear. I'm behind. I left last Wednesday (March 2o) for a 10 day excursion with Kelsey and Caroline so I didn't have time to finish writing about my dad's trip to Sevilla! Not only was he here for a whole week, we even made it to Portugal.

On Friday morning, we ate breakfast at a cafe outside, scrambled eggs for me (when I saw it on the menu, there was no way I wasn't going to order it...who cares that they were probably 8 euro) and the Sevillan version of pa amb tomaquet (tomato/olive oil/garlic scrubbed on bread) for dad. From there we got a cab to the train station where we both were about to step into entirely unknown territory. We rented this little, red, two-door Fiat for the weekend to drive to Lisboa, Portugal. Who came up with that ridiculous idea?! Well I did. And even though when I realized I was going to be the navigator of this 5 hour excursion into a new country I became beyond stressed, I'm oh so glad we did it. After sitting in the car for a good 30 minutes getting everything situated, taking it for a parking lot spin to test everything out, learning that we don't know how to drive it in reverse and having to ask for help to figure that one out, I attempted to use the map and the Eurocar receptionist's directions to get us out of Sevilla. Turns out (who could've guessed) that the directions turned out to be something totally different than what I read on the map or had been told. I was almost certain I'd taken us off on the wrong ramp and was just praying (jokingly) for a sign somewhere posted that said "HEY: PORTUGAL THIS WAY".... but not a minute later we came upon this sign (see above). It was a miracle. We had gotten out of the city without a single wrong turn. That's the moment I knew we were going to be fine- no not fine, we were going to do great- on this road trip.

A little over 5 hours, a random stop in Evora to look for a chapel made of bones (no such luck), a few ridiculously pricey toll booths and 2 mixed CD's later, we were dumped into Lisboa in about the same fashion that Sevilla threw us out. There was almost no traffic the entire way but as soon as we crossed into the city limits of Lisboa (at 5:00) the clearly-labeled mapquest directions became jumbled again and we were passing streets, crossing lanes, making turns, and taking exits of traffic circles faster than I could keep track of where we had started. Again, I thought we were lost, but my dad took a right turn onto a less-busy street and as we looked to our right, there it was: the Tiara Park Atlantic Hotel. It was our hotel, just right beside us, as if we'd meant to take all the crazy turns in order to make shortcuts to our destination. Yep, definitely gonna be a good trip. 

view from our hotel window

Although we were wiped out and I could've just gone straight to sleep, we ventured out to find dinner (I was also pretty hungry since our potential lunch stop in Evora turned out to be a total bust). We walked down the very steep Lisboan hills into the city center, then back up to the Bairro Alto. Eventually we landed on a little place with no one inside. It looked off the beaten path, not too touristy, and most importantly- open. It was still so early for dinner and I think the restaurant staff were surprised to have customers at 5:30 but there we were and the dinner was awesome. Cabbage soup for me, tomato soup for dad as appetizers, delicious bread and olives (which, as we learned later, is a Portuguese tactic to get your money...they put bread and butter on the table when you sit down like normal restaurants do, but they charge you for each thing separately. You've been warned), and mushroom chicken/spaghetti carbonara as our main dishes. We left stuffed and relaxed in the hotel, and I watched extremely American television until I fell asleep.

Saturday: We wandered out early while it wasn't raining, even though the sky looked ominous from our hotel window. We walked down into the Baixa, noticing all the things we didn't see the night before. The cobble stone streets are out of this world. Such intricate designs- and covering every walking space in the entire city. The buildings were colorful and everything is so hilly that it reminds me of San Francisco, but its rough around the edges. There's a lot of empty, vacant buildings, although they are still gorgeous. Tile walls, huge doors, artful windows. We had breakfast in a pastry shop where my first order was sub par (a sausage croissant=cold hot dog wrapped up in a mini piece of bread) but the sweet pastries were to die for. 

Dad from outside the shop, admiring the goods

More walking. and even though the sky grew darker and darker, it was still gorgeous. We walked down to the port, the market by the water, back up some winding streets, and somehow stumbled upon the path the castle. 

We spent about 3 hours exploring this awesome castle, and if you're ever in Lisbon and enjoy 360 degree panoramic views of a city, I recommend going. You can see the castle up on the hill from any point in the city, and you can see just about every building in the city from some part of the fortress. It went on forever, too. When I thought I'd walked around it all, there was another wall that led somewhere else with another tower to climb and see a different view from. 

We spent the rest of Saturday exploring different little streets, going through the shopping district of Chiado, taking rests on various benches to people-watch, have ice cream, coffee, dodge the rain, etc. All in all we probably walked 10 miles up and down the 70 degree hills of the city. By the time dinnertime came around, we were more than ready to pop a squat for a while. We sat outside at a restaurant with a view of the castle and ordered salmon and a seafood stew (they're known for their seafood, especially cod). The shrimp were as big as my hand and they served them to us completely whole. I didn't love having to see their little eyes in my food, but once you got passed that the stew was delicious. Much better than paella, I have to say. After dinner, more pastries (why not? You're only in Lisbon once...) and we called it a night. I have to say that having a nice hotel to stay in when you're traveling is so grand. I'm used to staying in hostels and they're generally fine, but when you can have a comfy bed to just sink in to, a room to yourself, a TV to watch, and you don't have to wear shower shoes, you just really learn to appreciate it. 

Not my pastry of choice, but this huge dessert with hard-boiled eggs baked into it were everywhere. A Portuguese specialty, perhaps? I'll never know, but I was definitely intrigued.

Sunday: Slept in instead of waking up early to make a side trip to Sintra or Belem since it was raining. It would've been cool to visit, but the rain was pretty steady and it would've meant more navigating a foreign city, foreign country, in a foreign car, and with the time crunch to get back to Sevilla. We went looking for a leisurely breakfast Sunday morning but Lisboa, Portugal, had checked out for the day. Not a soul was out on the street, much less a store open- and it was 10 am. We settled for fruit and pastries in the one store we could find and hit the road back to Sevilla. The drive back was equally easy, plus we knew where we were going which took a lot of the stress off. Riding along in a car is so much more preferable to me than driving, and I love listening to music with my dad (the first CD was a mix he made for me during my senior year of high school, filled with popular songs from his senior year, and the second CD he brought along was one I burned for him as a father's day present years ago), so it was great to just sing and eat gas station snacks as we drove through the beautiful Portuguese countryside. Maybe its the tolls that keep everyone away but we had the rode to ourselves, and it made it all the more relaxing. 

Back in Sevilla we checked into another hotel and went out for tapas (ahh back to the tapas) before going to La Carboneria to see some flamenco. It was the most crowded I've ever seen the place and we ended up having to stand at the bar to see, but I'm still glad we went. It was a little taste of Sevillan culture and I think my dad appreciated seeing and hearing it. 

Unfortunately on Monday I was running around a little bit like a chicken with her head cut off-- I had class, I wanted to show dad the Triana market, I had a meeting with my philosophy professor, I had to study for an exam at 5, I had class again, I had to meet with a group to study for another exam on Tuesday, I had to go back to Cristina's for a change of clothes, I wanted to show dad the park, dad left his good jacket in Lisbon so we were going to try to find him another, and I wanted to take him to La Confeteria for dessert. Somehow I managed to configure my schedule to fit most of it in. The highlight of the day though was buying to-go sandwiches from Starbucks (pretty much the only place you can get take-away food if its not fruit or veggies), an avocado, a mango, and humongous strawberries from the farmer's market and taking it all to Maria Luisa Park for a picnic. 

It was a perfect day for the picnic, and it was something I'd been meaning to do for a while. I think I might have found a "spot" too. I love it when I can find a place that is in public or just in my path of travel on a daily basis that I can call mine. I have one at UNC where there's almost never anyone sitting, so I call it my spot. Sometimes I go there in between or after classes on a warm day, or I'll sit there at the end of the semester before I leave for a long time just to think or reflect. I found a place in the park that is so quiet and comfortable to sit. I studied some here while my dad walked around, and I could easily see myself wandering back there much more over the remainder of the semester. The day was crazy, but I got everything accomplished that I needed to, I think (at least I hope) my dad still had a good day, and this little respite a midst the craziness was a real blessing. When I think back on it it makes me realize that there is always, and there must always, be time for you in a day. No matter what you have to do, what you need to do for yourself is just as important. I'm tired of eating bread and fatty meats every day, but when I have free meals available I'm reluctant to go out and find a more expensive meal. But the fresh fruit and pesto sandwich was just what I needed that day, and it'll be worth it again to skip out on one of Cristina's mystery soups to have some time for myself in the next coming weeks. Life is full of obligations, some of them we're excited about fulfilling and some not so much. I'm coming to realize that the more fulfilled we are through the little things, the more rested and energized we feel to complete all of them. 

Tuesday morning dad had to be at the airport at the crack of dawn so I hopped in the cab with him and got dropped off back at Cristina's on his way out. It was unbelievably cool to have him here and show him my life for the semester, as well as to experience something totally new with him. I know we'll look back on it years and years from now and have nothing but good things to say. Plus we have enough pictures to relive it all again and again...and again.

Esteve in España

This week, since I got back from Madrid, has been almost one big blur. I had to write a 7 page research paper on women's rights in the European Union (in Spanish, obviously), I had a test in my Islam and Spain class, my dad was coming to visit on Wednesday, we were going to Portugal (renting a car and driving ourselves) for the weekend, I had a test in my EU class on Monday, a meeting with my philosophy professor about how far I've come with my Metaphysics readings (all in Spanish, obviously), and a test on the Tuesday my dad left in my History of Americas class. I'm writing now because I've just finished with that test! Which means I am all done with work before spring break and all that's left to do is pack and perhaps try to go on a run which I haven't done in weeks. Tomorrow morning at 7:35 my plane leaves for Florence! So that's the week before spring break in a nutshell. Most important part? My dad was here for 6 days and it was so awesome to have him here and show him around where I live. Now that I'm looking back at pictures for the first time, it's crazy to see him in Spain. Can't believe he was here, and now- practically in the blink of an eye- he'll be back in Charlotte recounting stories to my mom. 

So Steve made it to Sevilla! Or as the locals say, Esteve en Sevilla. Wednesday- he gets in around 1pm, I met him at the airport and we took the bus back into town together where we got him checked into his little apartment in the middle of el centro. Awesome location, awesome place. I would definitely recommend staying at Calle Fabiola Apartments if you're ever in Sevilla for an extended period of time. The woman who owns the place was very cool and I've got her number so we might hang out soon! I was pretty much starved and dad was pretty much delirious by the time we could finally eat lunch, so  I dragged him through the winding city center streets to find the nearest lunch place that had more than just tapas on the menu. I'm not sure he even remembered the meal, he just had a dazed look the entire time. Maybe taking in the scenery, probably trying to keep his eyes open. I had to go to class at 5 so I led him back to take a nap (good call). That night when I got back to the apartment he had just woken up so we meandered out to find some dinner. Much more coherent at this meal. That's when he realized (and I don't know how I didn't put two and two together before) that he eats like a Spaniard anyway. I personally don't like eating little tapas for a meal, but that's what he does at home anyway. He'd rather have a big variety of lots of little things to just pick at and share with people. I'm normal and prefer one good, big, hearty meal all to myself. But he loved the tapas, so tapa-ing we went for most of our meals in Sevilla. Thursday morning I had class and a test but right after I took him to see el Alcazar, we walked to Plaza de Espana, by the river, through the city, through Maria Luisa Park, had lunch (of salmorejo so he could decide if the one he cooked at home compared...and he decided his was better) and ended up at Cristina's for a merienda at 5.

Cristina was so sweet and bought us cookies (that we've never had in the house before)

 and an ice cream cake because I told her my dad loved chocolate and ice cream

It was awesome to show him around where I lived and let him get a taste of what the home-stay life is like. The translating was a bit hard; I kept going back and forth, saying English to Cristina and then Spanish to my dad. All in all, though, I think C was very happy to meet him, happy to show him her home, and she's always in the mood to tell a story or two. MC ate with us, too, which was awesome, first so that everyone could meet everyone, and second to have a second translator around. 

We ended up staying and chatting for a long time at Cristina's (how could I have underestimated the time we'd spend talking??) but left in time to browse some shops in el centro, see Las Setas at night, and have another late dinner of tapas. This place we found looks like nothing out of the ordinary, but it has some of the best tapas I've ever tasted. They all have a twist on the same old theme (like instead of espinaca con garbanzo beans, espinaca con nueces y bacon...not chickpeas but nuts and bacon instead). 

Seafood salad-stuffed avocado

Eggplant cake...the best Spanish thing I've tasted here thus far

Goat cheese spread with a caramelized onion sauce, I think?

After filling up, we headed back to the apartment to crash. In the morning we were heading off to Lisboa, Portugal [which will be a whole post in itself]. So Friday-Sunday we were in Portugal, but when we got back on Sunday night, we checked into a new hotel, took a stroll around the city at night, ate dinner at the hotel bar just downstairs, and I took him to see flamenco at la Carboneria which I knew he'd enjoy. I never bring my phone with me when I go places nowadays, so I should probably get a watch, but as of now I hardly ever know what time it is anymore. So I wanted to get to flamenco early enough to have drinks, get a good table, and sit and relax some, but when I asked a man on the street what time it was he said 9:00. So I'm thinking, we have at least 45 minutes until we need to leave, so we go back to the hotel and I open my computer, only to find that its 9:45. So it wasn't 9, it was like 9:40. This is a perfect example of how Spanish time works- it's all in the same general vicinity of an hour and that's all that matters. Moral of the story is A. I don't mesh well with this approximation-style time-telling [I might be too punctual, but their way of doing things is just a little ridiculous], and B. we were late to La Carboneria and couldn't get a seat. No matter, we stood by the bar drinking sangria and tinto de verano and watched the short flamenco show standing up. And I was right, he loved it. 

Monday might have been my favorite day of all though. I had a meeting with my philosophy professor at 12:30 and a test at 5 (which turned out to be comically impossible), but other than that it was the most relaxing of days. After my early class I walked my dad to the market in Triana and we bought fresh strawberries, a mango, and an avocado. We then bought drinks at the grocery store and to-go sandwiches from Starbucks (practically the only place you can buy to-go food), and took the makings of a picnic to the park. It was a perfect day- warm, sunny, not windy, not hot-- it was a prime day for a picnic if I do say so myself. I patted myself on the back as I spread the avocado and olive oil on the Starbucks turkey/spinach sandwich to give it some pazazz and ate strawberries half the size of my fist on this fine day. I'd been wanting to pack a lunch for the park for a long time and this plan just came together in the most perfect way! I was so glad I could share it with my dad. I've been going and going and going for the past 3 weeks or so, and its all kind of culminated in the midterms of the past week while my dad's been here. It's looked like I've been extremely stressed to him, I think, which is so not the case at all. But this lunch was really what I needed to decompress a little. Plus the park is like a little island oasis- a great getaway for anyone at any time when they just need a moment to themselves. 

I studied for my exam there, sitting by the water where the ducks were swimming, taking in some sun, and felt completely relaxed by the time I actually had to take the test. Unfortunately I had to meet with a study group to study for my next test which was Tuesday morning for a couple hours after I finished the Monday night one. But after I met back up with my dad, and he told me how he got lost a few times but managed to find his way back to the hotel by the time I did, we returned to our newly discovered gem of a tapas spot and had more eggplant cake. It wasn't a disappointment the second time, either. La Campana was our last stop to pick up a pastry and a muffin for a snack later and then it was back to the hotel for dad's last night in Sevilla. I fell asleep studying after a while, but was awoken by alarm at 4:05 am. A cab came at 4:20 to take him to the airport and me back home. Such a weird thing to be writing this now, now that my last test is finished and I'm done with all the studying, but just this morning I was riding in a cab with my dad and now he's back in America, almost back home! And NOW I'm about turn around and go to the airport myself for a 10 day trip to Florence to see my best friends Kelsey and Caroline, and then we're all going to London, Edinburgh, and Dublin together! Talk about a whirlwind of a month...

A definite highlight of dad's trip for me: A stash of goods from home...peanut butter, gum, Nature Valley bars, Trader Joe's oatmeal, Girl Scout cookies, Crystal Light, my Nike spandex and jean jacket

Madrid and Toledo, my weekend on a whim

So. Know what I did this weekend? I made a last minute decision and went to Madrid and Toledo- by myself! Yep, ran to Plaza de Armas (a bus station much further away than I expected) in the rain on Thursday and bought a bus ticket for 35 euro, leaving for Madrid 8am Friday morning and returning to Sevilla at 5pm Sunday night. Lots of factors played into my decision to go [Hope and Gina were both at home this weekend so I could crash at one of their apartment's, Robert was getting in Sunday morning for his spring break trip, old friends from JMSD a lonnnnnnggggggg time ago were coming to visit Hope and I wanted to see them, I really did want to see Toledo and the weekends were filling up fast so I didn't know if there would be another opportunity that presented itself, and I just felt like it might be time for a somewhat unplanned decision where you throw yourself into the unknown and work it out along the way...you have to have at least one of those when you're abroad, right?] Well I formulated this plan in my head early in the week, but in the back of my head I kept thinking "yeah, but I probably won't do it..." so on Thursday when my run took me to the bus station, I'm not sure what actually pushed me to buy the bus ticket but at some point I just stopped weighing the consequences of either choice and went for it. I wasn't sure about it- even after I packed my bookbag up again, after made the 25 minute bike ride in the rain Friday morning at the crack of down, after I got on the bus and researched 'things to do in a weekend in Madrid and Toledo' for the 6-hour bus ride, not even after I figured out the metro system enough to get me to Hope's apartment Friday afternoon was I sure I made the right choice. I kept thinking "what am I doing here? I don't know how I'm getting to x place or how I'm going to meet up with x person or how long it will take me to get from x to y...there's just so much I don't know! That I can't know!" But there I was, sitting on the metro, line 1 to Rios Rosas, with my neck wallet around my neck to avoid pick-pocketers and my sneakers on, looking like the ultimate tourist, and I just said to myself- "well, you are here. Time to stop thinking about where else you could be and just be here." So I guess that's when my weekend started being incredibly awesome.

Friday was super rainy so I went to the Prado and Reina Sofia (museums) with Hope and Janey. We also went to el Mercado de San Miguel because it was indoors and out of the rain (I'm beginning to think of myself as a market connoisseur). It was more of a hang-out spot than a crazy market, very relaxed with areas to sit and eat the tapas/drink you buy at any number of the stands. There were also sweets, snacks, full meals, and seafood by the pound available.

My tapa of stuffed olives and a salmon cake on bread.

El Prado, one of the most impressive museums I've seen thus far. Aside from the works by Goya, El Greco, Caravaggio,Velazquez, Rubens and Van Dyck that I've studied in the past, I'll remember a couple little things about this particular museum visit. Hope had been when she was in high school with one of her teachers, so as we were walking through the planned route set out by the museum guide, she experienced various flashbacks of certain works that her teacher described to her years ago. She would then proceed to act as our own guide and describe what she remembered, usually starting off by saying things like "OH this one over here, it's famous." And then after reading the description beside the painting she could explain what it was about. It was also one of the shortest museum visits I've done since it was only free for the last hour it was open, so obviously that's what we opted for. As for the Reina Sofia, a museum that holds modern works from the likes of Ernst, Goya, Kandinsky, Magritte, Rivera, Lichtenstein, and Dali. There was an artifact that I thought was especially cool, I wish I could've taken pictures. It was a handwritten letter from Federico Garcia Lorca, a poet and author I've read a lot from in my Spanish classes to Dali. The nerd in me again coming out, but just seeing his handwriting on paper after I've read copies of his work in my textbooks for a few years was pretty cool. I also really liked the exhibits about oppression in South America, in Argentina, Cuba, and Venezuela in particular. Really powerful stuff. 

The highlight of the night, though, was going to the grocery store and buying the good to make dinner. The main course? A SALAD. Haven't had a salad as a meal in so long. This one was big, with spinach as a base (unheard of nowadays; we don't even get iceberg lettuce. It's more like a weird clover-type green with stringy pieces and some sprouts). We used avocado, cucumbers, tomato, red pepper (FRESH not canned), nuts, chicken, red onion, goat cheese, and a homemade balsamic/lime/honey/olive oil dressing. 

Listening to pandora and slicing avocados...the life.

After a full meal we got situated on the couch and watched New Girl until we fell asleep. Perfect Friday night in my book. On Saturday morning I was still unsure of what I was going to do, and the weather was a little if-y to be taking a day trip to a beautiful city like Toledo, but I decided that half the reason I was in Madrid was to see Toledo so I just made myself do it. I found the bus station online that supposedly makes day trips there and back, figured out what lines to take on the metro, packed up my bag and bundled up, and just went for it. The bus ride was only 45 minutes long and 9 euro round trip. When I got there I felt so strange and a little exhilarated all at once. I didn't know a soul there. It was just me and Toledo for the whole day. The first thing I did was get a map from the tourist office, have them mark down the most important points to find, and buy an umbrella. It was raining when I arrived but it stopped almost as soon as I paid the 4 euro for the thing. Didn't even need to open it. Toledo was a cultural hub for many years back in the day, and it was known for its tolerances of all religions in a time where Spain was experiences mostly turmoil. Mosques, cathedrals, and synagogues coexisted in peace, and you can still see that today. I visited the Jewish Quarter, the main mezquita, and the cathedral (all within a couple hours, the place is not very big). I also visited a museum inside el Sinagogo de Transito and a museum of the recreation of El Greco's house (free things to do, of course). All of the architecture of these buildings was beautiful, but my favorite thing to do is be outside so I used the time when it was mostly sunshine wisely and found a walking path around the river that surrounds 3 sides of the city. These are some of the views my walk had me stumble upon:

On the bridge looking towards Toledo

View from across the river, looking towards the city

Took a little stroll further around the outskirts of the city and up a hill to get some panoramic views

When you're by yourself, there's no shame in selfies

View from the bottom of the city by the bus stop

The walk was gorgeous and I couldn't have been more content when I sat on a bench overlooking the water as I ate my orange. But the path ended strangely- I ended up on a highway outside of town. Not wanting to double back the entire way I had just come from (it was nearly a 2 hour walk), I walked along the road trying to find the best way back up to the center of the city. I passed by an old woman using her umbrella as a walking stick, going in the opposite direction as me. After a minute or so I thought to myself, I bet she knows what she's doing, so I turned around to catch up with her. Turns out she has lived in Toledo her whole life and happened to be walking to the Plaza de Zocodover, same as me, and she suggested we just walk together. She gave me little bits of information about buildings as we passed by them, let me know when we passed a free museum, explained what each statue was and why there was a tribute to that person in Toledo- it was awesome. She made sure I knew where to go next when we made it to the plaza, and gave me dos pequenos besitos goodbye. I'm so sad I didn't get a picture with her! She actually reminded me of Mimi in the way that she was so stylish and cute and still trucking up all those hills...Mimi if you read this I could totally see you doing these walks with me! I ate a very Spanish lunch (as in at 3:30) after my walk in a Syrian restaurant near the mezquita. Being alone, I made friends with the man who owned the restaurant (actually from Syria) but his English was quite good. He was so excited to talk to me and to practice his English. He also had 2 sons running around the restaurant, literally crawling under my table at times, chasing each other. I'm pretty sure his wife was cooking food in the kitchen, and there's a good chance that they lived upstairs because I thought I saw her take a laundry basket up some steps. I ordered a chicken kebob and grape leaves and had a leisurely break from all the hiking around I had just done, listening to the Tracy Chapman CD that was playing in the background. The man wanted me to come back and have tea later but I wanted to catch the 6:00 bus home so I said I'd try...but that definitely wasn't going to happen. I walked around inside the city, exploring the winding streets, checking out the shopping areas, looking at the swords that Toledo prides itself in crafting, and popping into marzipan shops.

When I took the bus home I fell straight asleep. Too bad it was only a 45 minute trip because my night was only just beginning! As soon as I got back I met up with Hope, her sister, and her friends that I know from Jami Masters' from years ago that were all visiting her and had just arrived. It was wild to see everyone, and in Spain no less. We reminisced on old dance stories, how we all remember each other from when we were younger, etc. etc. Gina came to meet me and we walked to her apartment to get ready for the night (obviously Hope's place had become a little crowded). We all met back up again at a "The Place," (which is very difficult to find when you are asking for directions and all you can say is its "THE PLACE"... nobody really knows what you mean, especially in Spanish), and a few friends from UNC that were either studying there or visiting for their spring break also came. From The Place we went to an Irish pub to watch the UNC vs. Duke game (it came on at 3 am here, mind you...what a dedicated fan I am, right?) but after realizing there was no way we could win everyone agreed on pizza. And that was Saturday!

So now it's Sunday. Well its been Sunday for a while, since we didn't get back to Gina's until 6 am, but around 11 Gina and I headed out to El Rastro, a flea market near the center of the city until Robert got in at 1. We got directions to Robert's hostel and showed up at 1, hoping he was going to be on time (we had no way of getting in contact), but he was! So we spent the afternoon checking out some sights of Madrid, and then relaxing in the park until my bus back to Sevilla at 5. It was a weekend of colliding of worlds for sure- my childhood friends, friends from school, one of my best friends in the world, and everyone meeting in Madrid of all places- but after meeting up with Robert it was so clear to me I made the right choice to make the trip. Everything worked out almost too perfectly. Example: I bought a 10-pass metro card and used the metro exactly 10 times. I met up with everyone I wanted to see and did everything I wanted to do. I saw some museums. I saw some sights. I relaxed and had good food. I made the trip by myself and didn't get lost or miss any buses. I didn't get pick-pocketed. I even made new friends. 

After finding Robs in the hostel

After I opened my (new) umbrella for the second time

At the Palacio Real

All of us at Retiro Park

...and just before the skies opened up and we had to take cover behind a closed candy shop kiosk