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

(long post warning, (slightly graphic (but blurred) photo warning as well) the Reader's Digest version is below this post)

Tirar los galletitas

Em and I got up early on Saturday to catch the 9a bus to Seville. We had a change of plans. Saturday was supposed to be a Gibraltar tour day but the weather was bad, therefore dropping a few folks from the roster. Meanwhile, Em and I wanted to check out apartments in Sevilla which is notoriously difficult in the month of Semana Santa.

The buses in Andalucia have very comfortable seats and large windows. They usually are also a little more convenient than trains. For example, a bus to Sevilla is about 3'30, a bus to Malaga is 1'+ 2'30 train ride + your waiting time.

Running late as usual we cut our breakfast and hailed a cab to the bus station. With 3 minutes or so to spare Em said she was having that empty stomach nausea you get when you exercise before breakfast. So I held the bus while she ran to get some M&Ms and water.

The road to Sevilla passes through Ronda. A-397 is one of the most dizzying rides you can imagine. A turn every few seconds; 60 minutes of uphill slalom. Em with her propensity towards motion-sickness was a sad pup within minutes of taking off. She seemed like she would be okay but she got worse and worse and within sight of Ronda it became just too much. Her stomach heaved and with no bag or anything to catch it, I put my hands under her mouth. I was hoping that maybe just that little bit would be enough until she got off the bus. You would think that I had never vomited before based on that line of thinking. It continued...and continued.

Covering the floor, the tips of her hair, her jeans, my jeans and with a little even hitting the woman sitting in front of us. The woman, who wanted to make her ride more comfortable leaned back her seat creating a space for my sister's hurlorama to sneak through. Bet she doesn't do that again! Lo siento is just way too short make up for regurgitated snacks.

We finally arrived at the bus station in Ronda with a slightly chocolaty-peanuty aroma in the air. It could have been much worse. I eventually just emptied my hands on the floor and wiped them on Em's jeans. We had a change of plans. Today would be a tour of Ronda but not before washing our clothes a bit.

Help me Ronda, Help me get it out of my hair

Colgate Total makes a surprisingly good ersatz shampoo. Em changed her clothes, I just rinsed mine down in the men's restroom. Some people asked me if I felt like a giant in Japan. Not at all...but I did in Ronda. I waited in line for the men's room and I think I was the only person over 5'3 there. The women next to me were all clawing for 5' even. I came back to the cafe where the conductor tells me that they always carry bags on curvy roads. Good to know.

Hemingway said that Ronda is a perfect place to spend an afternoon. I agree. Ronda is most famous for it's "Puente Nuevo" (also called Puente San Miguel--nuevo, or new, is such a relative term in Europe, it was built in 1793) a 300ft tall mammoth bridge that spans a picturesque canyon. While that is the draw, the city is nice enough unto itself. The narrow roads of old town, the green fields in the distance, give the place an other worldly feel. If Caserta, was for Naboo's royalty this was the home of its commoners.

GORGE-ous

Considering how famous the bridge is in the town (at least half the visitors come here JUST for that) it is surprisingly hard to locate on the tourist map. If you don't know the name, you would assume it is just another bridge. The tell tail sign in any town, of any tourist destination, is the density of postcard racks. As we reached bridge, the town opened up and we had an incredible view. How they built something like this 200+ years ago just astounds me. We soaked in the atmosphere with a supermercado lunch (bread, meat, cheese, chips, fanta, water) on a trail that was to take us to the bottom of the canyon.

In the back there is another bridge, less famous, and less impressive by comparison but still quite nice and a welcome reprieve from the hoards of tourists understandably distracted by the Puente Nuevo. Ronda is a town that rewards walkers. The view of the bridge from the lookout points is very close and dizzyingly vertical. From the long path (unfortunately, suitable only young people) you get the best angle on the bridge and its surprise waterfall. Ronda is a required stop on any tour of Andalucia.
Down below we met up with some American students taking a weekend break from their studies in Sevilla. We sketched the area, and continued looking (in vain) for a way to get under the bridge. The path that seemed most promising led us through an abandoned electrical generating facility. It has probably been in this state for several years because the vines had taken it over.

It was getting late so we got our mosy on to the bus station to head back on a much straighter path to Sevilla.

At Giralda...large

We arrived around 9:30 and I found myself surprisingly aware of where I was within the city, considering I have never arrived by bus. Outside the bus station was a very modern slick looking metro line (one that was underconstruction while I was in Sevilla last time).

We hopped a cab to the out of the way hostel I stayed at last time, figuring it was bound to have empty beds at this hour. Nope. Apparently a rowing team and a bicycling team had taken the place over leaving us further a way from the other hostels. Em and I began the long walk back to the center of town. We walked through the Plaza Nueva, the University and of course got to see the Cathedral with its iconic belltower the Giralda glowing against a clear black sky. It never fails to impress.

One of the rules to keep in mind in Andalucia is that hostels are not always cheapter than 1-2 star hotels when you aren't traveling solo. We checked a few centrally located pensions and were running in the 40-60 euro range. When we arrived in Plaza Nueva, we found a few backpackers and ran up to them to see if they were heading to a hostel .Yup! Okay great, so we headed off to Hostal Suijzo Nuevo. Em and I were far too tired to do much of anything that night so we just collapsed and slept through the night (surprisingly tough to do in a hostel).

The next morning was a rainy, dreary, mess of a day. We stopped off at McD's which was the only thing open on a Sunday morning at 11a. Trying to find apartments to rent in one day is pretty ambitious. Sunday was going to be a get to know Sevilla day to see if Em wanted to stay here or continue in Marbella.

We did a tour of the cathedral (still among the most impressive I have seen). Sundays are no longer free as they were when I was here last but the 2 euro student price (7 euro adult price) is very much worthwhile. Trying to capture the jawdropping beauty of the place with photos is impossible, which to me is a sign that God wants us to travel ;)

We did the obligatory climb up the Giralda to get a view of the streets of Barrio Santa Cruz below. From there we headed to the Plaza de Espa~a, home of the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929, Naboo, Lawrence of Arabia and the first page of Dan Brown's Digital Fortress. Sunset in the plaza is pretty spectacular. The top of the plaza glows iridescent orange as does the back of the front wall. It lasts only a few minutes and then for a nocturnal encore, the fountain's, towers, and square light up. Sevilla es de cine, literally.

We got ourselves to the 2nd train station in Sevilla (the place I got off the first time) and were about to buy our ticket to Malaga when we had a realization. There may not be a bus back to Marbella at 10p. We'd be stuck in Malaga. So a 3 day weekend it was. Insert arm twisting here.

Back to the center of town and back to the Barrio Santa Cruz. Our first pension attempt was 40 euros down the back of an alley with a rude owner/manager who was supremely insulted when we tested the shower for hot water before agreeing to stay. He told me "If you want to know if we have hot water you just need to ask me if there is hot water" not being quite the fan of this guy's attitude I asked Em if she wanted to continue looking to which she said (in English) "Absolutely, I don't trust this guy at all" yup I agree. So one of two things, either there was no hot water (possible), or there was and this guy has no customer service savvy at all (very possible).

Two streets later we found Pension de Santa Maria de la Blanca. A very simple accommodation, in a traditional Andalusian house 40 euros for ensuite bathroom and twin beds. Deal. Walking the narrow streets can be fun with the assortment of bars, cafe's, heladerias and the like.

The next day we focused on contacting people looking to rent furnished apartments. 1 bedrooms are from 650 and 2 bedrooms appear to be from 750 to 850 depending on distance to the city center. As always, a bit of negotiating is usually a good idea. We also had as a priority finding the Enforex school. Not knowing the area, I decided to follow instructions from Google Maps from the cathedral. When we took a 2 mile loop around the city we found the school...literally meters from where we stayed at the pension. Lucky is the person who has the free time to walk for two hours in Sevilla.

We rode back to Marbella via a train to Malaga and a subsequent direct bus to Marbella. The train station was under a fair amount of construction the last time I was there. It is almost unrecognizable and it would rival Kyoto for me for the train station to get stuck in. Great weekend in Spain.


Ciao!



--Joey