GAMBA-tte: Selfmade Sugoi Sushi in Salamanca

Life in Salamanca has been pretty good since Semana Santa. We started the week with Sushi night (the month of cooking has made us a bit cocky) and it turned out really well. About 10 of us took turns maki-ng our own rolls which ranged from Philly/California/Shrimp-with-stuff rolls (likely to the very polite chagrin of our resident Nihonjin, Ayako), Avocado and Tamago Nigiri. For dessert we finished with an ersatz Bananas Foster made from Apple Schnapps and Coca Cola. You had to have tried it it isn't as bad as it sounds ;)

School started to wear on me last week so I decided to take a hiatus for a week/possibly two and visit some of the daytrips the region offers. Also, I think reading the newspaper and watching an few hours of Spanish TV daily is equally beneficial at this point in my learning. I may go back for the last week of April.

Lagos reunion tour

Our crew from the Rising Cock came to visit us this past Friday and we spent a couple of days touring around. It has been under 3 weeks since we saw them last but felt like the better part of several months. Saturday we lounged around the Plaza Mayor with bags of McDs and BK. We are really taking advantage of the local atmosphere if not always the cuisine. Sunday, we sent Texas Joe off to Madrid where he is flying to Paris, Today we are sending off Luke and Ben who are headed to Logroño, Wiebke to Lagos via Lisbon. Good times guys!

Cuídate: Techo Mojado

Apparently we developed a bit of a leak in the gym/garage below our flat. This was first noticed when we filled up our tub to do the laundry (yeah we are classy like that--the washer doesn't drain quickly enough) but apparently even quick showers are doing it. We told him we would use the spare bathroom in the interim. Yesterday he buzzed our apartment exasperatedly and told us that "I thought you weren't going to shower!". We had been using the other one so the problem is bigger than just one bathroom. Truthfully, I am not even sure we can help it. The pipes may be shared for every "D" apartment in the complex. So that is on the to-fix list for our dueña Carmen. In the interim we have been showering with the tub plugged and bailing the water out manually.

Loonies de Agua

Salamanca (and the rest of Castilla Leon) celebrated Lunes de Agua, the historical end of Easter and thus the return of prostitues to the region from their banishment during Semana Santa, by sitting outside and relaxing at Parque Aldehuela. You got to love Spanish holidays.

Fonzie had an easier time with the word wrong than I do with the word Itinerary

In unrelated news, I am thinking of canning my return to the states on June 10th in favor of the world's longest train ride to China from Warsaw via Moscow and Ulaanbataar. This may end up as a bonafide RTW after all. The reason is that I am starting to doubt whether the Japanese stay is going to happen. I am not tired of traveling but I am starting to get the 2 month homesick pang a bit. Much less than last time around, but still there which means after another month in Salamanca and 6 weeks on the road I think will have another month or two in me before I find traveling to be more of a burden than the enjoyable experience it should be. All that said I have to do some more research because Transsiberian railroaders require visas, embassy invitations and a bunch of other bureaucratic hassles. At the same time the demand for the direct tickets is substantial so I may head to Eastern Russia and then to Ulaanbataar and then to Beijing. Or maybe I do the sane thing and just come home and fly roundtrip to Hong Kong...nahhh ;)

The travel whatifs

Today Em and I were saying that every photo on this blog is due to Andalucia day. Sounds funny right? Had Andalucia day never happened, we would have stayed in Sevilla in our own apartment or with the school. That being the case, we would not have hung out at Samay (and the Rising Cock) and met Ben, Luke and Joe. We would not be in Salamanca now, if at all.

--Joey

Life In Spain




--Joey

New digs

I know I am supposed to be updating everyone on the Cordoba and Salamanca legs of the trip since I am behind but instead I wanted to let you all know we got our own apartment. Yeah!

We are about 3 minutes walking from the Plaza Mayor just off Gran Via; a main drag in Salamanca.

As I am writing this the Semana Santa processions are passing through the plaza and as beautiful as this should be I can't help getting creeped out a little.

--Joey

Lagos goals

After a five day stop in Lagos at the Rising Cock, we finally left for Lisbon to meet up with our Tios coming to visit us. Our last night involved packing all of our stuff up and thinking about trying to sleep but getting peerpressured into a night of staying up (the capitulation was remarkably fast ;) ) at various bars.

So long Chicken man, Nahnah burgers, 3 Monkeys with Scotty and his Chupitos alerts. And of course, so long to Mama with her awesome crepes and lemon tea.

The trip to Lisbon was via Tunes and was roughly 5 hours. The perfect amount of time to not get any sleep whatsoever, but we were quite proud to achieve the near impossible; catching transportation as it was scheduled...in the morning!

We were pretty exhausted, fortunately for us our Aunt and Uncle very generously decided to get us a hotel. While I will never give up hostels completely, a hotel break once and a while can be very welcome. After three weeks of taking as luke warm a shower as I, and my boys, could tolerate, I think I was just a few minutes away from making the shower a bath.

We got to the hotel ahead of them and collapsed after we helped Kezia, a fellow backpacker from the Rising Cock, get her trip to Paris settled. Having been burned on the Lagos to Sevilla trip with some of the times in GMT others in Spanish Standard Time (GMT + 85 minutes) we wanted to confirm the horario. So the guy at the desk calls the information number listed on the website...which was wrong. Patience is a virtue and a requirement for traveling in Iberia. Hoping the information was correct, we sent her on her way. (She later confirmed all went well)

Super Bockalao

Lisbon was the first city where I did next to no prepwork at all. I had no idea what to see (other than the castle as recommended by some backpackers in Lagos) nor any of the language other than to ask if they spoke English or Spanish, and Obrigado. Fortunately, our Tios did and recommended a museum near our hotel which had an impressive collection of ancient Greek coins, Egyptian knickknacks and Japanese artwork. Best of all the entrance is free.

After leaving, the first order of business was to find a place open to have some dinner. We strolled around the city which seemed about as tired as we were. As we got toward the coast we found a nice little place that was showing some futbol and served up Super Bock (which is neither, but still quite enjoyable) and some Bacalao which was delicious.

We all kind of thought it was weird that for a capital city, it didn't really buzz. It was more like a medium sized town. The next day the newspaper confirmed that the Portugese economy was lagging the rest of Western Europe.

The next day we decided against Sintra because of the misty weather and instead headed to the castle, cathedral and the old town. The main mode of transportation within the city was by trolley or metro and with the hilly roads it seemed remarkably like what I think of San Francisco and with a touch of Budapest thrown in. When we got to the castle we even saw a bridge that was the spitting image of the Golden Gate.

Having put in our share of uphill walking we returned to the hotel and watched a little bit of the Spanish election. Zapatero's socialist party (PSoE) won handily. That night we went to the best chinese restaurant I've ever visited. I went with lucky number 127 and hoped for the best. Maybe it was numerology, the fact that I was hungry or that I ordered it in Chinese. It was so good I came really close to getting another order to go.

We figaro'ed it was time for Sevilla

Day three in Portugal started with the usual breakfast and had us rushing to the bus station, with 10 minutes to spare. The worry from our more senior travel companions was hilariously palpable. 10 minutes is a luxurious cushion for the two of us. As it turned out, there was a more direct Lisbon to Sevilla bus that was not publicized on the web that left 30 minutes later. Awesome.

We began the log trek to Andalucia by way of Faro. Along the way I noticed how different the scenery was. At the Lisbon latitude it was way greener than arid Andalucia. The ride was long so we had a stop at a rest stop for about 45 minutes. All European rest stops have a similar feel. They are usually pretty nice, they have a gas station, a restaurant/food court and a souvenir stand. In the states, we have so many places to pull off. In Europe, they are few and far between partially due to the lack of intercity travel by car and also the urban centric lifestyle.

We pulled in to Seville at 8ish. From the Plaza de Armas we took a cab to Samay and while crossing Menendez Pelayo I felt a kick. It turned out to be two of our hostel mates from the Rising Cock who on the recommendation of Joe, Ben, Luke and the two of us made a reservation. There was room at our place but the Tios didn't get too thrilled by the prospect of dorm room living. (It turned out there was a private room that wasn't advertised on hostelworld they could have used...whoops!) So we showed them our pension from visits one and two to Sevilla on the Puerta de Carne. It is a very basic kind of place. Two beds, hot water, dripping with character but no TV (although anyone caught watching TV in Sevilla should be shot).

Across from the pension there was a nice Italian place where we got some grub and then headed back. The 10 hour bus ride had taken its toll so we made it an early night.

The first full day back in Spain, which funny as it sounds, was a little like coming home. That feeling I had as I left France for Irun came flooding back. Em was feeling bad so she met us later. My 3rd time inside I finally got a little more numb to it's awesomeness. Although, in preparation of Semana Santa it was decked out a little. We roamed around and entered the courtyard where I ran into a girl I knew from a messageboard I post to. I knew she was in Sevilla and we planned to meetup that night so I wasn't too shocked to see her and her friends but it was a nice surprise none the less. A few more pictures later we went out to meet Emily who was feeling a little better. Off to Euro fastfood; Pans and Company a place I frequented in Salamanca because of its proximity to the Plaza Mayor and its daily lunch specials.

We took a leisurely paseo to the Plaza de España and from there split ways. Em and I to the hostel to arrange some transportation for ourselves, and the two of them to an archaelogical museum.

We got a Tapas bar tip from the woman who worked in the hostel. Near the Alameda was calle Eslava home to the eponymous Bar Eslava. It was a packed hole in the wall with delicious food. Round one was delicious and everything I understood. Round two was a mixed bag including blood and onions and things I preferred not to look up after I left. Em went her own way from calle Sierpes and I walked with the girls to the Plaza de Armas.

Having had a stationary day we figured we were rested enough for Cordoba. We'll pick it up from there next time ;)

--Joey

(Photos to come within the next day or so right now I am having some technical problems)

Faro and away

Our second trip to Sevilla was 7 days of soaking up the town. Yup lucky number 7. We missed the bus to Lagos on Monday for the sake of 50 euro cents off a chicken sandwich meal at the BK Lounge.

Bonus night in Sevilla was kind of meh. Something I sort of knew but didn't have drilled home until recently. Your hostel experience is part the hostel itself and more so the people you meet around the common room. The place was dead come Monday. All of the great people we met were either in Lagos, Malaga, or Granada. All the music, communal cooking and joking around was replaced by silence.

The next morning I woke up arond 7a and checked my mail. The rest of the guys had made it to Lagos and were telling us the bus left at 7:30 not 8:30. I double checked the bus schedule and saw that 7:30 was the departure time from Lagos to Sevilla. With that reassuring tidbit, we took our time getting to the station. 10 minutes before we were scheduled to leave, we learned our friends were right and the website was wrong. At tourist information the typical Spanish mentality of customer service as an after thought prevailed again. The lady said she can get us on a bus to Ayamonte. Great, then how to we get to Lagos from there? Yo no se. What? She told us to ask someone at the station when we get there. You have to be kidding me. Okay fine. We get to Ayamonte and there is no station just a closed kiosk on the side of the road.

We talked to a cab driver who said that for 14 Euros he could get us to Portugal. To a town that has a train to Lagos. It was better than the alternative of waiting 8 hours in Spain so we went for it. Plus, he gave us a crash course in Portugese on the way there.

Two and a half hours via a stop in Faro and we were in Lagos.

When in doubt, follow the bleeding guy

With tourist season in a lull, the owners of pensions, hostels, and homes are hawking their accomodations. Nao obrigado, we have our accomodation...at the...Rising Cock hostel. It is rooster themed. It may also be a double entendre ;)

One of the guys pushing his house told us he would walk us there...he also had a bleeding lip. Not in the little blood crusts sense from a shaving mishap, but like a juicy, bright red bleeding corner. Not sure if he realized this or not but when you are trying to convince someone to stay in your house, the fewer open wounds the better. Anyway, the hostel was literally 10 minutes from the train station and 5 from the beaches.

Lagos is a Portuguese beachtown that reminds me a bit of Amity. It gets heavily touristed during the summer but it is a different kind of tourism than you see on the costa del sol. Right now, the shops along the sun beaten streets are catching their breath in anticipation of the endless lazy summer days to follow.

Our hostel, the Rising Cock, is an interesting place. It is essentially study abroad kids on break, the usual cadre of young Aussies, Kiwis, Brits, Canadians and Americans relaxing and longtermers that have no idea how to find an appropriate encore. Anyone with any flexibility at all in their schedule overstays. In part due to its common room (with a huge couch sectional) and also due to the lack of sites to see (you come here for the beach and the beach only) makes it the best social hostel I have ever been to. After a night of hitting up the local bars the hostel mom Maria, makes you lemon tea and a mountain of crepes to cure your hangover. Quite an easy life to become accustomed to.

Cliff Cravin'

The beaches are beautiful here. Coarse yellow brown sand, blue green waters, and rock formations reminscent of American west loom invitingly. Em and I being beach and water snobs are finding the testicle destroying 17 degree water horrificly hypothermic and nearly unswimmable but when you get out it feels like jumping into a hot shower on a cold morning. Good times.

To relaxing days, long nights and suggestive accomodation. Cheers :)

--Joey

Change of plans...

We are meeting up with our Aunt and Uncle in Lisbon on March 8th. The plan had been to continue school for the month of March possibly trying to find our own accomodation or going through the school. But with the extra fees they will charge when we aren't there but instead in traveling around, it won't be worth it. We think it may be easier to get ourselves to Portugal during this week (to Lagos on Monday, when there is a bus). We will stay there for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesay, leave for Lisboa on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Fortunately, Portugal has some of the most highly rated hostels of Western Europe. The plan will be to vamos to Salamanca come mid March and stay for the rest of the time.

Lazy days in Sevilla

It has been a little under a week since we left Marbella. We have been taking it easy just roaming the city. The Samay hostel has overtaken Funky for my favorite hostel in Spain thus far. The rooftop features a view of the Giralda, the Santa Maria de la Blanca and the rest of Santa Cruz. For some of the reasons Emily mentioned earlier, we started cooking our own meals...like real food. Honest, using a stove, electricity, pots, pans. Serious.


The kitchen is well stocked, and at times is fairly busy and pretty social. We met a really nice Dutch family (hi Will!) and ate with them a few days. We met them at the Alcazar and around the place. It was their first time to the city, and like everyone, they really enjoyed it.



The Alcazar

For the student price of free, it is quite the deal. I remember last time being disappointed by it because of the unfair comparison to the Alhambra being so fresh in my mind. As is becoming a refrain of my posts, a lot was under renovation and it looks a lot better. There were even a few spots I had skipped over last time that turned out to be some real gems.


It is easy to see why so many people fall for this town. Tourist sites figure very lightly into that equation, it is just the great atmosphere of the city. The buskers are really first rate. There were Indian flutists, violinists, street artists and the like.

--Joey