Brussels and Bruges: Waffles, Chocolate and Beautiful Sights

For those of you who have not seen the Irish dark comedy/thriller "In Bruges" (2008), starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson and Ralph Fiennes, this is a spoiler alert.  The film, which I would highly recommend, is entirely centered around Farrell's character, Ray, a grumpy, rookie hitman who has made a horrible error.  Ken (Gleeson), a more seasoned hitman, is assigned the responsibility of chauffeuring Ray around for one last week before he is to kill the aspiring assassin. The entire film takes place with a breathtaking backdrop since Harry (Fiennes), the boss of the aforementioned hitmen, has asked Ken to take Ray to the "fairytale town" of Bruges.  The point behind my plot summary of a film that came out nearly three years ago is this: the whole reason Ray is taken to Bruges is because Bruges is so beautiful that Harry and Ken believe he will be able to die a peaceful and fulfilled death.  And, after my trip, I can't agree more.


DAY ONE
I arrived in Brussels on Thursday night with mixed emotions.  Of course, I was very excited to explore Brussels and taste the fabled delicacies of Belgium, but I was not to meet up with my two Tufts friends, Chris P. and Chris D., until the next day.  So, I was alone in a French and Dutch-speaking city with no friend in the world.  Upon checking into the hostel, however, I was blessed by an incredible coincidence.  As I began to unpack, two boys who seemed to be pretty close in age to me entered the room.  They hurled their bags on a set of bunk beds and chatted vociferously.  I noticed that they were speaking Spanish, but not just any strain of Spanish.  They were dropping their "S's," changing words like "España" into "Eh-paña."  I piped in: "De dónde sois?" ("Where are you from?")  "Sevilla," they responded in unison.

The sunset catches off a building in Brussels.

Off the bat, I had found two friends in Brussels.  What's more, Dani and José, my two new Sevillano friends, are currently studying in Marseilles and can speak some rudimentary French.  That night, we traveled around Brussels, eating delicious food, sampling some delectable Belgian beer and checking out the sights.  We explored the Grand Place, Brussels' central square and most memorable landmark, and a couple of popular streets for dining and night life.  That night was certainly a great introduction to Brussels and I am glad I had some friends with whom to spend it.

The Grand Place, or Grote Markt, in Brussels.

DAY TWO
I woke up bright and early, excited to meet up with my good friend, Chris.  Chris has been abroad in Madrid since September, so I have not seen him since last summer (when we met up for 4th of July weekend at his summer house on Martha's Vineyard.)  Chris and I have been friends since the first week of school in 2008 and we even co-authored a weekly pop culture column in the school newspaper for a while.  Our love for films, including "In Bruges," most likely led to our intense desires to explore the medieval city.  I waited for Chris behind the airport barrier alongside many heartsick Belgians, welcoming their loved ones back from long journeys or quick trips.  Chris and I had time to catch up on the 50 minute train to Bruges from the Brussels North station.  He seems to be sincerely enjoying his time in Madrid, with his only complaint stemming from the amount of work he has to do as a junior food critic for a Spanish publication.  Upon arriving in Bruges, our jaws simultaneously dropped.  Not only is Bruges starkly different from its country's capital, it is by far one of the most gorgeous cities I have ever seen.  The entire town is a wrinkle in time, a testament to the past when wars were fought on horseback and cloth-trading markets cluttered central squares.  Remarkably, Bruges has maintained its medieval character through the preservation of its large churches and rows of quaint, brick houses.  Horse carriages, cyclists and pedestrians traverse the winding, cobblestone streets with no interruption from oncoming cars or taxis.  The other mode of transportation is boat, as Bruges shares the title of "Venice of the North" with Amsterdam, due to its tranquil canals.  These canals are populated with friendly ducks as well as majestic, white swans who glide across the still surface of the water.  Not to mention, the people of Bruges--who mostly speak Dutch as opposed to Brussels, which is characteristically more French--are very friendly and open.  A little old lady who spoke only Dutch even walked us over to our hostel before bidding us farewell and heading back in the opposite direction.

I relax along the canal with Saint Salvator's Cathedral in the background.

The Bruges belfry stands 83m high.

Chris and I arrived, having saved our appetites all morning for some Belgian delicacies.  The hostel concierge advised us to walk to the main square, home to the famous Bruges belfry.  The belfry is an enormous 13th century bell tower that overlooks the entire city.  Dwarfing the surrounding shops and houses, the belfry is analogous to the North Star of Bruges as it is seen from almost all points in the city and can be a useful rendezvous point to help one find his way.  At the foot of the belfry are two tiny food stands with green awnings.  Upon first glance, the stands seem to be average, greasy street vendors.  Yet, once Chris and I saw the size of the lines accumulating at either stand, we knew these places were special.  Chris and I scampered over to the stand with a seemingly better selection for fries (not French fries, though, as we were told, because it's Belgium).  There, we met a friendly man named Josef who advised us to order fries with stoofvleessaus, a Belgian beef stew, as well as a glob of spicy mayonnaise.  After one bite of the succulent concoction, Chris and I knew we would be seeing a lot more of Josef.  Chris and I continued to enjoy the scenery, snapping photos at every opportunity (and believe me, there were many) and tasting more treats.  Our lunch that day consisted of the aforementioned fries, an incredibly delicious Belgian waffle with slagroom (freshly whipped cream) and some chocolate truffles.  Finally, we got a call from our friend, Chris D., who had just arrived in Bruges from Paris.  We met him at the train station and continued the day's adventure.  That night, the three of us enjoyed a delicious dinner and topped it off with (what else?) another Belgian waffle.  Bruges has an entirely different feel at night, but is equally beautiful.  We knew we would be leaving Bruges the next day, but we could not leave without striking a couple more touristy things off of our to-do list.

My friend Chris hankers for a taste of this Belgian waffle, while I try to hold him at bay.

DAY THREE

The view from the belfry's summit.

We arose early the next morning, and made our way back towards the belfry.  This time, our intention was not to merely gawk at the beautiful structure, but climb all 366 spiraling steps to the top.  The two Chris's and I made our way up the building, stopping along the way to see the huge gears of the clock uniformly churn.  Once we reached the top of the building, we were surrounded by immense bells with an amazing panoramic of all of Bruges.  The view from the top was awe-inspiring, as we gazed upon the rows of tiny brick houses and the iconic cathedrals, the entire city brimming with cheer as the merry people of Bruges enjoyed their Saturday morning.  For lunch, we stopped off with our newfound friend, Josef, and carried on towards a Saturday morning market for some bratwurst, rotisserie chicken and pesto mushrooms.  Later, we capped off a memorable 24 hours in Bruges with a picturesque canal tour.  Seeing the city and its landmarks from the comfort of a longboat was extremely gratifying.  Finally, we had to bid goodbye to Bruges and make our way back to Brussels via train.

The canal tour through Bruges was a definite highlight of the trip.

The Brussels royal palace at night.

When we arrived back in Brussels, we did a little more exploring, heading towards the royal palace and the European Parliament Building.  Soon, however, it grew dark and we made our way down to a popular dining street for some moulles frites (mussels with fries), typical Belgian fare.  At the end of the night, the two Chris's and I went to Delirium Bar, the bar with the Guinness World Record for most different variants of beer served in one establishment.  The boys and I sample beers ranging in color from light to amber to very dark and ranging in flavor from cherry to cookie!  The Delirium Bar was truly a cool sight to behold and a welcome end to our trip.  Nonetheless, I was not very fond of Brussels overall.  The city has some amazing landmark buildings, but the dichotomy of urban, skyscrapers alongside royal palaces was offputting.  The next morning, I caught an early flight back to Seville, content with my time spent in Belgium and keen on someday returning.

Barcelona: When Zachs Unite

My friend Zach (right) and I stand on the roof of Antoni Gaudi's La Pedrera.

This past week, my good friend from home, Zach Romano, found himself sans class for spring break.  Zach, who is studying in Florence, decided to visit me and explore Spain.  After bouncing around Belgium and going to Sensation White, a huge techno/dance music concert where all concertgoers and performers wear white from head to toe, he arrived in Seville on Sunday night.  From Sunday to Wednesday, I spent time with him whenever I didn't have classes, taking him to Alcázar, La Catedral, the Guadalquivir River, the Torre del Oro and all the other beautiful landmarks in my city.  We dined on paella, tapas and some gelato that he admitted rivaled that of Italy.  On Thursday morning, however, we bid goodbye to Seville. While I would only be away a few short days, Zach may not return for years to come, but he had seemingly grown fond of the warm weather and even warmer people Seville has to offer.  Early on Thursday, we boarded a RyanAir low cost flight headed northeast to Barcelona.

DAY ONE

Zach gets settled at Graffiti Hostel.

We settled in at Graffiti Hostel, our nine-euro-a-night headquarters for the weekend, and stopped for lunch before taking the city by its horns.  I had already visited Barcelona once before with my dad and sisters during my senior year of high school, so I had some idea of where to go.  I suggested we see the most memorable monument in Barcelona, Antoni Gaudi's Sagrada Familia.  Gaudi is a folk hero in Barcelona for his unique architectural style and his natural imagery and shapes.  He plays with the viewer by contorting the facades of his works and La Sagrada Familia is truly a masterpiece.  La Sagrada Familia is a towering cathedral with enormous spires erupting out of a square structure.  Along the walls is ornate religious and natural iconography, some aspects realist, but the backside is decorated with cubist sculptures of Jesus and many Christian saints.  The building has been marred by controversy since its inception in 1882 due to its huge costs and its almost whimsical design, which has contributed considerably to the lengthy construction process.  In fact, the building is nowhere near its completion, with some sources estimating that the building may not be finished until 2026, the year that would mark the centennial of Gaudi's demise by tram car--but that's a whole different story. 

La Sagrada Familia towers over the surrounding city.

Inside La Sagrada Familia.

Even now, La Sagrada Familia is a controversial structure.  In my mind, the most fascinating thing about the cathedral, is that it stirs up intense emotions from all parties, albeit on opposite ends of the spectrum.  No one ever feels indifferent to the building, yet it is either praised as an innovative masterpiece or blasphemed as a construction disaster and an eyesore along the low Barcelona skyline.  I believe La Sagrada Familia will live up to its immense expectations, yet I can see how it can certainly be unsettling for Catalunyans to see the building swarmed with cranes and scaffolding and to hear the cacophony of jackhammers and power tools everyday.  Zach and I bought tickets to enter the building (now the construction is fully funded by private donations and ticket sales) and we were mesmerized by the inner workings of the building.  The stained glass glistens overhead, as the building's eccentric character is accentuated with curved archways, spiral staircases and booming columns that appear like giant tree branches supporting the structure.  La Sagrada Familia was just as marvelous as I remembered, yet, during the four-year gap between my visits, I did not really notice too much progress in its construction.  After this delicious serving of Gaudi, Zach and I craved more of the master designer's work. 

The intricate roof and chimneys of La Pedrera.

We headed over to La Pedrera, a large apartment complex built by Gaudi for a rich couple in the early twentieth century.  La Pedrera has a flowing, contoured exterior with many balconies and gaping windows.  Yet, the true appeal of the building is the roof, cluttered with anthropomorphic chimney sculptures that have a striking resemblance to Darth Vader from the "Star Wars" epics.  Zach and I soaked in the view under the warm Catalan sun before descending and walking towards one last Gaudi triumph.  Though we didn't enter Gaudi's next work, we indulged ourselves in the sight of the queer, amusing facade of the Casa Batlló.  The Casa Batlló has distinct balconies which look like large masks to be worn at some Elizabethan masquerade or ball.  Additionally, the facade is plastered with colorful ceramic tiles that give the Casa Batlló true character among the comparatively quotidian buildings that surround it.  Yet, the real draw to the building is its inimitable roof.  The roof has eaves of turquoise green, blue and purple, giving it the likeness of scales perhaps belonging to a mythological serpent.  All of these distinct, flamboyant aspects of the building form an interesting, united amalgam of color that actually suits the structure.

Casa Batlló (center) sits sandwiched by monotony on a busy city street.

A candy stand at the La Rambla marketplace.

After having our Gaudi fill for the day, Zach and I still had time to promenade down La Rambla, the most famous street in Barcelona (and maybe all of Spain).  La Rambla is one long pedestrian walkway flanked by little restaurants, plazas and marketplaces.  As you walk along, you see dozens of street performers: a Charlie Chaplin impersonator, a soccer juggler, a human statue.  The true colors of Barcelona come out on La Rambla and you can buy everything from a postcard to a pet ferret to a tasty gelato.  Our day ended with a stop at the Picasso Museum, which has a slightly small collection of the artist's work.  Obviously, the pieces that are on display are amazing to view, and the museum does a nice job taking attendees through the metamorphosis of Picasso's work through the different stages in his life.  My particular favorite pieces were the "Las Meninas" collection of Picasso; the artist took the famous, aforementioned work of Diego Velázquez and put his personal, cubist touch on it through the creation of many pieces with differing perspectives.  The day ended with a dinner at Caramba, a traditional tapas joint, with our friend from home, Audrey, and some of her friends.

A peek at some Picasso works.

DAY TWO

The quaint houses at Park Güell.

Once we woke up the next morning and saw the sunny, brisk weather, Zach and I agreed to go to the Park Güell.  The Park Güell is another trademark of--you guessed it!--Gaudi.  The park is situated on top of a large hill overlooking the city.  Covered in cacti, palm trees and other exotic fauna, Park Güell is a delightful break from the hustle and bustle of the city streets below.  Gaudi was originally contracted to build a housing development on the site, but it was commercially unsuccessful.  Instead, he designed a large open terrace area with an enclosing, wavy bench with colorful mosaic tiles.  He also included a long staircase below the terrace with a mosaic dragon guarding the fountain.  The two houses that stand in the Park Güell were actually not built by Gaudi, but starkly resemble his technique and style.  Each house looks like an oversized gingerbread house with a sloping, white roof and colorful chimneys.  Zach and I scanned Barcelona from high on our perch and walked around enjoying the sounds of some enthusiastic street performers.

Zach and I lay out on the beach,

We followed our trip to Park Güell with a trip to the harbor.  The site of the pristine water and the hundreds of docked sailboats and yachts was very relaxing and we took some time to unwind after a day and a half of nonstop action.  Eventually, we ambled over to the beach for more of the same, planning out our next move whilst being serenaded by the lapping waves.  After a lap around the beach, we decided to go somewhere to nosh.  The Chocolate Museum seemed the perfect place: the ticket was an actual bar of dark chocolate!  Inside, the museum was pretty underwhelming, showcasing chocolate models of famous Barcelona landmarks and retelling the history of how cacao bean came to Spain.  At the end of the day, Zach and I met up with some more friends for spicy Thai food and sweet sangria.

DAY THREE

Castle of Montjüic

Our last day in Barcelona held the promise of one final quest.  After a seaside lunch with our friends studying in Barcelona, Audrey, Sara and Sarah, we took a tram from the beach neighborhood of Barceloneta up to the high mountain, Montjüic.  From there, we had to transfer to another tram in order to ascend to the Castle of Montjüic, a 17th century fortification that lies on the hill's peak.  The Castle switched hands many times during the Spanish Civil War from 1936 to 1939, being used as a vital base and lookout point.  Furthermore, the Castle was the site of many executions, even centuries before the Spanish Civil War broke out.  At the top of the Castle, we got a serene view of the horizon, with nothing but the blue of the ocean hazing our view.  Once we felt that we had taken enough pictures and climbed enough towers for the day, we descended back towards the base of Montjüic to check out the Olympic Stadium.  Though we were unable to go inside, we could see the torch that remained lit during the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona and we got a decent view of the track and field arena.

I sit next to a tower on top of the Castle of Montjüic.

The Magic Fountain show plays behind me.

Towards dusk, we found ourselves at the mouth of the National Art Museum of Catalonia.  The museum is housed in the Palau Nacional, a gorgeous building originally built in the 1920s as the site for an art exposition in Barcelona.  While we did not get to the museum inside to view the art collection, thousands of people gather by the museum steps each night to view the famous water and light show at the Magic Fountain.  The Palau Nacional rests on top of Montjüic, but has a series of long, wide staircases leading back down to the city.  Each staircase opens up to a separate plaza with a cascading waterfall or a gushing fountain.  The focal point is the Magic Fountain, a circular collection of geysers that spew in a synchronized fashion with lights and music.  We were lucky enough to get there right as it got dark and the vibrant lights of the entire scene were dazzling.  A loud speaker system blasted a playlist of Disney songs (in Spanish, of course) as we watched the fountains on each different level of the hill dance along.  The Magic Fountain show was the cherry on top of our trip.  Barcelona has such a distinct flavor than that of Andalusia, yet it is a great city to visit.

Granada: The Capilla Real and La Alhambra

With La Alhambra at my back, it was hard not to smile.

The weekend of March 11th was bittersweet in that it included a trip to Granada, yet it also marked the final time that our entire group of CIEE Advanced Liberal Arts students would travel as one whole unit.  Our bus trip three hours eastward through Spain spawned intrigue as our coordinator, Juli, and several tour guides spoke of the awaiting sites.  Granada is a tourist haven due to La Alhambra, one of the most visited sites in all of Europe, as well as the Capilla Real, a mausoleum home to some recognizable corpses.

A typical Albaicín street.

Our first stop, however, was in the lesser known neighborhood of Albaicín.  Like much of Anadalusia, Granada has an important history of Moorish occupation, followed by the Spanish reconquista of formerly Spanish land.  Thus, the neighborhood of Albaicín, which lies on top of a mountain overlooking the center of Granada, is a surviving testament to Moorish culture.  Albaicín is characterized by winding, narrow, medieval streets as well as typical, gated houses called "carmens."  We patrolled the city with our guide, Fernando, a professor of Spanish history and art history at the Universidad de Sevilla, stopping to gaze at former mosques-turned-churches and little town squares.  Finally, we stopped at a convent, run by nuns who do not venture out of the convent for anything but necessities.  Fernando brought us over to a little revolving window with a bell and advised us all to treat ourselves to magdalenas, little muffin-like pastries baked by the nuns to support themselves and their convent.  We all left Albaicín with a sweet taste in our mouths and headed towards the Capilla Real in the heart of Granada.

The Capilla Real is the interment site of several members of the royal family, warranted by the King of Spain and the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V in the early sixteenth century.  Now, the Capilla Real holds the remains of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, or the "reyes católicos" (Catholic monarchs).  While most Americans laud this royal couple as the pair who chartered Christopher Columbus' famous journey to discover America, they are also notable for their furthering of the Spanish reconquista and their institution of the Spanish Inquisition, which ousted thousands of Jews and Moors and forced many others to convert to Christianity.  Adjacent to the sarcophagus of the reyes católicos is the shared sarcophagus of King Philip I of Spain and his wife, Queen Joanna.  Queen Joanna was the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella and she is most remembered in Spanish lore as Juana la Loca (Joanna the Mad) because, after the death of her womanizing husband Philip (also known as Philip the Handsome), she presumably galavanted around in her royal carriage with her husband's cadaver.  Inside the actual Capilla, the ornamentation and minute details of the two large, sculpted sarcophagi was awe-inspiring.  Below ground level is a little passageway that allows everyone to peer in at the actual coffins containing the bodies of the Spanish royalty.  The sarcophagi are turned towards the Retablo Mayor, an enormous, gilded altar depicting the trials and tribulations of the two Saint Johns, Saint John the Baptist and Saint John the Evangelist.  The altar shows the beheading of John the Baptist in gruesome detail, juxtaposed with the failed attempt of burning John the Evangelist alive.  Kneeling on either side of the altar, life-size sculptures of Ferdinand and Isabella attest to the importance of Christianity in Spain's history.  The Capilla Real stands next to the gorgeous Granada Cathedral and is an incredible site.

The sarcophagi of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella (front) and King Philip I and Queen Joanna (back) sit in front of the Capilla Real's Retablo Mayor.

The Palace of Charles V.

The next day, our crew awoke early to visit La Alhambra.  La Alhambra, Arabic for "red fortress" is a massive palace complex built in the mid-fourteenth century by the Moors who reigned over Granada.  Inside the fortified walls are several beautiful structures including the Generalife, the Moorish royal palace and the Palace of Charles V.  We first explored the Generalife, the summer palace and home to the Moorish emirs.  The Generalife showcases the unique Moorish architecture, featuring columns and intricate ceramic designs on each wall.  Surrounded by this architecture are gorgeous, manicured gardens with erupting fountains and long, rectangular water basins.  Once we browsed all of the gardens and rooms of the Generalife, we moved on to the royal complex of the Moorish emirs.  This complex featured similar designs in larger proportions.  One particularly fascinating room was the Hall of the Ambassadors, the very spot where the emir would sit on his throne and hold court.  The Hall has large windows that overlook the entire city and has a tiled design painted black, white, green, yellow and blue, the five colors of Muslim art meant to represent death, innocence, Allah, sun and water, respectively.  We walked through the massive patios and courts before stopping at our final destination, the Palace of Charles V.  The Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain built his palace within the walls of La Alhambra in the sixteenth century.  The Palace is a large, square building, but, on the inside, an enormous rounded patio of pillars creates great acoustics and resonance.  The confluence of so many royal structures and aesthetic masterpieces in the same complex is utterly jaw-dropping.  Granada is an unbelievable city, full of character and history, and the images of La Alhambra resting on top of its mountainous hammock will forever be etched in my memory.

My New Friend and My First Home-Cooked, Traditional Spanish Meal

A Sunday lunch to be remembered.

Referred by my Aunt Maggie's friend, Alma Schneider, I began a correspondence earlier in the semester with a true Sevillano family woman named Cristina.  Cristina and I, through our countless emails and games of phone tag, were mutually exasperated by the efforts to unite.  I was more readily available for dinner, when I did not have class, but she wanted to do lunch, since it is the more important meal of the Spanish day.  While she wanted to meet during the weekend so I could meet her children and her three American home-stay students, I was busy traveling.  Finally, the afternoon directly after my night at Carnaval in Cádiz, I stumbled and lurched out of bed on about four hours of sleep and headed towards the Estadio Benito Villamarín, the home of one of the two major soccer teams in Seville, Real Betis.  Cristina lives in a fairly suburban little neighborhood of Seville right nearby the stadium, about a 25 minute bicycle ride from my house.  Her neighborhood is full of character, as most of the beautiful, ceramic houses were built as hotels for the presenters and attendees of the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929, a world's fair held in Seville that also fostered the construction of the breathtaking Plaza de España.  Due to its history, the neighborhood is composed of streets with names like Calle Jamaica, Calle Bolivia and Calle Nicaragua, paying homage to the countries that participated in the Expo of '29.

I was greeted at the door by Cristina, a warm, loquacious woman with a large smile constantly plastered to her face, her son Juanito, a typical, well-mannered and reserved Sevillano 17-year old with a passion for "fútbol," and the scraggly, family dog, Teo.  They invited me in, where I met Juan, Cristina's cordial husband, who was toiling over a massive, circular pan of aromatic paella with a smoldering cigarette dangling from his mouth.  Cristina sat me down and immediately encouraged me to eat, as all Spanish hosts have a tendency to do, treating me to fresh olives with bits of anchovies inside, sliced chorizo (Spanish sausage) and runny Brie, accented by a glass of "vino tinto" (red wine).  I snacked a little as Cristina and I spoke face to face for the first time.  She asked me all sorts of questions, showing true interest in my family, my current stay in Seville and all of the trips I had planned.  As we spoke, Juan would walk over and join the conversation, occasionally bringing over books about Brussels or Amsterdam to prepare me for my upcoming travels.  The hospitality of Juan and Cristina to a perfect stranger is a testament to the Sevillano character.  People throughout Seville are very welcoming and kind, treating foreigners (even those with little Spanish-speaking abilities) with the utmost respect, and I felt like an old friend or one of the family right off the bat.

Juan's succulent paella was devoured in record time.

Soon, the rest of the household awoke from their slumbers and came downstairs to join us for lunch on the outdoor patio.  I met Paloma, 14, Cristina's daughter, who reminded me a lot of my own sister Jesse, since the two of them share an intense love of ice cream and blackberries (the phone, not the food).  I also met Robert, Teal and Emily, the three American students who have been staying with Cristina's family since January.  I was able to see how Cristina and Juan, who have been hosting foreign students for nine years, open their arms to the Americans, and our eclectic bunch felt like one huge, dysfunctional family sitting down for Sunday lunch.  Our lunch consisted of Juan's paella, Spanish yellow rice with peppers, shellfish and prawns, which was absolutely fantastic, accompanied by wine, which somehow kept finding its way back into my empty glass.  Everything was capped off by a Spanish version of an ice cream sandwich, in which Cristina cut slices from a block of strawberry and vanilla ice cream and put thin wafers on either side, and a cup of rich, Spanish coffee.  The meal was delicious, and a more than welcome change of pace from the dorm cafeteria.  After the meal, I got the chance to break from speaking Spanish and talk with the American students.  They lamented the far distance to the center of Seville, but said they would not change home-stays for the world.  All three of them sung the highest praises for the entire family, sharing my same enthusiasm for Cristina's infectious laugh, gregarious manner and innate sweetness.  After relaxing on the couch with Cristina, Paloma and Juanito after lunch, I had to say goodbye to the family and make my way back to my residencia for a long siesta.  Cristina told me that I had to come back, but there was no need to tell me twice.  I will definitely be returning to her house for another memorable meal with my new Sevillano friend and her loving, accepting family.

(NOTE: I was in a couple of pictures with Cristina, but she simply forgot to include them in her email.  Hopefully, I will get them soon and be able to include them in this post.)

Carnaval in Cádiz

I (second from right) make some new friends at Carnaval.

On Saturday night at 9 p.m., hundreds of frivolous youths--Spanish and American alike--dolled up in ridiculous costumes hopped on buses destined for Cádiz.  Cádiz is an Andalusian port city an hour and a half south of Seville, known for its beautiful beaches and for its annual week-long celebration of Carnaval.  Carnaval started off as a religious celebration before Lent, the forty day period leading up to Easter, in which Christians celebrated their festive season.  Carnaval derives from carne, meaning "meat" in Latin, since Lent used to be marked by Christian abstention from eating meat as well as abstention from general festivities.  Anyway, now Carnaval has evolved into an immense celebration filled with masked merrymakers, parades, singing and public street parties.  Cádiz boasts one of the most famous Carnaval celebrations in the world, shutting down the city center during the night for a week straight.  I got the chance to experience Carnaval in Cádiz firsthand.

The crowded, decorated streets of Cádiz bustle with energy.

Dressed as one of "The Blues Brothers" (paying homage to the 1980 film starring John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd), I arrived at Cádiz to find the streets cluttered with jubilant adolescents and adults all donning outlandish attire.  I saw superheroes, pirates, princesses and even the entire cast of "The Flintstones" with their very own Flintstones' foot-car!  The spirit of the night was infectious as even the most timid party-goers became amiable extroverts in mere moments.  The entire celebration was simply a huge botellón session, with people drinking wine and beer in the streets, dancing, laughing and chatting with colorful characters.  The bars and restaurants were closed, but everyone was able to get their fix for the night due to the large number of street vendors offering everything from hot sandwiches to fried fish.  At the behest of my friend, I split a portion of cazón, fried school shark.  My trip to Cádiz was unforgettable and I boarded the bus home at 5:30 a.m. reveling in the night's events.  For me, Carnaval in Cádiz seemed like a Spanish version of New Orleans famous Mardi Gras celebration and I was happy to take part in the night's festivities.