I know, I know, it’s been awhile. I didn’t even say goodbye. But to you I say that if I learned one thing from Lola it was to never say “goodbye,” but to always say “see you later.” So shame on you for thinking I was gone forever. Shame on me for thinking you noticed and/or cared. But really, I know my readers had heard that I went on a trip after Paris and have been eagerly anticipating my next blog entry, so I apologize to both of you. I had an excuse for not writing while I was still in Spain, since I was pretty busy with exams, saying goodbye, and all the end of semester stuff, but zero excuses for not writing since I’ve been home. I have been about as worthless as New Years Eve plans for 2012. The most productive thing I’ve done was catch up on the Mad Men episodes I missed while I was gone. I regret none of it, but now that I’m writing I’m starting to feel less pathetic. And truth is, I’ve been keeping this blog about 90% for me, so that I can remember everything, so I really want to finish this before I forget it all and just start making stuff up. So without further ado, here is my account of my trip to Lisbon and Santiago de Compostela.
The first weekend in December we had a five-day weekend because of either the Immaculate Conception, the anniversary of Spain’s constitution, or a combination of both; they weren’t really sure. We wanted to see Portugal, Galicia, and the Madrid airport so we decided to make that happen during this break. This was our flight itinerary, follow closely: Valencia-Madrid, Madrid-Lisbon, Lisbon-Madrid, Madrid-Santiago, Santiago-Madrid, and Madrid-Valencia. That is six flights in five days. So we landed in Madrid on Thursday night and since our flight to Lisbon wasn’t until seven the next morning, it didn’t make much sense to get a hostel. Luckily we were able to put our bags in lockers at the airport and I don’t know, had about eight hours to explore the capital.
We figured out the metro and then scrambled to buy some beers under the table since it was after ten. We experienced success and took our prizes to a park outside the Museo del Prado, one of the greatest museums in the world, holding countless works of beautiful art. As we sat and chatted in the cold, my friends who visited Madrid the weekend before told me about everything inside the museum so I felt like I’d been inside as well. After our beer blankets could no longer combat the chilly Madrid air we started to look for a nice place we could go inside. As we walked we were constantly invited into warm places for free shots. Now I’m no dummy so I know there is very little alcohol in these free shots but I’m very persistent so I knew that if we stopped in enough places then I could start to feel pretty good. This went on until we decided to visit some more of the typical Madrid spots such as the Palacio Real, where the king used to live before he moved out. Before we knew it it was five a.m. and time to grab a cab back to the airport. Once we got there the whole “no hostel” idea started to feel miserable and we all did our best to sleep on the floor at the gate. Oh yeah and the airport was crowded as frick; pretty glad we erred on the side of caution and got there semi-early. The Spaniards may not have known why they had off, but they knew they wanted to travel. When we made it to Lisbon it was still early in the morning so we didn’t think they would let us in to our hostel and since we didn’t want to be left out on the street we decided to catch a few winks in a different airport on a different floor. One little piggy couldn’t sleep on the floor anymore (Jake) so he decided to go scout and beg the hostel to let us in. Well it didn’t take long for Jake to call us to tell us that we were staying in the Greatest Hostel of All Time, and that they would let have the room. I really don’t think I can do it justice, but I’ll do my best as this entry goes on. Anyway, the first points they scored were by clearing out the room so we could sleep in some much-needed beds.
I didn’t want to sleep that long, however, because from the get-go I cold already tell that I was going to love this city. As we landed I could see the gorgeous, green countryside (paisaje), and from the bus I could see the monuments and charming streets of downtown Lisbon. But probably the best sign, the one that really, really confirmed my suspicions of grandeur was when we got off the bus to walk to our hostel and attempted to cross a busy traffic circle. We were waiting to cross when a tram stopped to let us by, driven by none other than Santa Claus, who joyfully gestured us across the street with a wave of his white-gloved hand. We stood on the other side in awe as we waved and watched him drive away, shuffling Christmas shoppers to-and-fro about the city. Once we woke up we got lunch, walked around, crashed and took another nap, popped in the cathedral, and then did some Christmas shopping. We returned to our hostel to ask the extremely friendly staff for a dinner recommendation. My man hit it out of the park and recommended a delicious, cheap place where we could get the local specialty: cod. We treated the dinner as my birthday dinner and I had a wonderful time sharing a great meal with some of the great friends that I’d made over the course of the semester. After dinner we went back to the hostel with every intention of going out, but the greatness of the place just wouldn’t let us leave. We just stayed in our own private lounge area, ripped through some Portuguese wine, played cards, threw out Trivial Pursuit questions to each other, and had just a nice, relaxing time. It was pretty nice to have some time to ourselves, not rush anywhere, just enjoy each other’s company, and rip on Sharon.
We woke up the next morning and went to meet up with a free walking tour that didn’t exist so we just winged it and went to the Tower of Belem, the Discoveries Monument, the Jeronimos Monastery, and the market. It was quite the work out. We made it to the castle right as it was closing so we didn’t get to go in, but we got to see the outside and the nice views from the top of the hill where it is perched. From there we went back to the hostel for another restaurant recommendation, and it was another home run. They set us up with a one-hour fake-out wait time to see if we were worthy, but worthy we were. It was Bryant’s 21st birthday so he had his first beer in this nice, tiny, local place where you cook a giant hunk of meat on a hot rock, which you may then dip in a delightful array of sauces. They had me at hunk of meat. Big meat, big beers, small price. It was perfect. After dinner we went back to the hostel (we couldn’t stay away) and raved about the place to the two incredibly nice people at the desk. I already know this post is going to be long but I’m going to go into this story anyway because it shows how awesome the hostel was, and writing about this makes me feel like I’m back. So we told them it was Bryant’s birthday and before we even finished the sentence the cutie at the desk left to go get him his present. It was a dessert her grandmother had sent her that she called “salami” because it was shaped like a salami but tasted more like chocolate heaven. We asked her for the recipe and she said she didn’t know it, but she would have no problem getting it for us. So we went out and chatted up the locals and then came back at godknowswhen to find her sitting at the desk with the recipe waiting for us. We figured she just had to go through her things and find it, but we found out that this girl called up her grandma at two in the morning to get a recipe from her for a couple of guests of the place where she worked. That is pretty nice. I want to make it clear that the people there weren’t creepy/weird nice, but they were just genuinely nice, cool people who really enjoyed where they worked. It made for a great environment and made our stay in Lisbon that much better. This part of the night was a little hazy but I’m pretty sure she tucked us all in with warm glasses of milk and then called cabs for us so we wouldn’t late to the airport the next morning.
The cabs came when it was still dark out and we rushed outside and to the airport. We flew to Madrid, hit up our old haunts at the airport, and then flew up to Santiago de Compostela. This is one of the holiest cities in the world, and to save time and space I’m going to direct you here so you can learn more about this city and the Camino de Santiago, and so that I can continue on as if you are an educated person and not the ignorant peasant that you are. Once we arrived, there was some discussion about us getting off at the wrong bus stop from the airport so we made our pilgrimage to McDonalds to sort things out. I just want to interrupt to say that this was the only time I went to McDonalds in Europe and that I kept it cultural by ordering a beer. From there we started walking to our hostel and quickly realized that it didn’t really matter which stop we got off at because the city was so small. Then it got dark and we explored, checked out the cathedral and did some more Christmas shopping. Both Lisbon and Santiago had much better Christmas atmospheres than Valencia, a lot of cold and a lot of lights, which made us all happy. Well, probably except for Sharon. Santiago is a cute little fishing town and we found a nice spot to watch the Valencia soccer game and eat some yummy seafood tapas. We were all pretty tuckered out after that so we retired to the hostel for some pillow talk.
The next morning we woke up and went back to the cathedral with those who were sleeping the day before and caught some of the Pilgrim’s Mass and visited where St. James is allegedly buried. After church we asked about hiking a small part of the Camino and the people we asked said, “Great! How many days?” It appeared we were ignorant peasants and wouldn’t be able to do that, but we saw and walked the important part of the Camino, so it was fine. From there we were content to just walk around and take in the beautiful green countryside of Galicia, which, had I ever been in Ireland, I would be able to say with authority that it looks exactly like Ireland. We got a big lunch of typical Galician food: octopus, Galician stew, pimientos de pardon, and zorza, which I think is some kind of pork, but whatever it was, it was good. After more strolling we decided that since it was our last family meal on a trip we would go to the market and make our own dinner. We all cooked together and made a delicious pasta dinner and just hung out hard. We had no idea of the bombardment of final projects and exams that were on the horizon, but it was a nice, relaxing end to a nice, relaxing trip.
Oh, and expect another, much shorter post later today, and, if I ever get around to it, a beautifully written post that perfectly sums up and concludes my semester abroad. (Not likely)
Besitos,
Jim
