Monkeys and British people

Sometimes you just need to go play with monkeys.

Two Saturdays ago, June 26, Rubia, Jen, and I decided to take advantage of our last weekend in Spain by visiting the Rock of Gibraltar and its infamous monkeys. We waded our way through the confusing bus schedule on the internet and found a way to go Gibraltar for the day, and then spend a few hours in the late afternoon/early evening in the capital city of the Costa del Sol, Marbella. It all looked good on paper, and we planned to meet Pedro and Alejandro in Gibraltar after they took a later bus.

Our bus left at 7 am and that time came far too early for Rubia and me. Wanting to soak up every last moment of our ISA Malaga experience, we went out Friday night, hanging out with friends and dancing in the discotecas until much later than we should have. We walked back together to our neighborhood around 3:30 am, and I slept until around 5:30 am. This was the earliest I had woken up in over six weeks, and I was feeling pretty sleep-deprived and nauseous.

However, I took a bunch of ibuprofen, grabbed the sack lunch Tere had packed me, and walked over to the Plaza de Toros to meet Jen and Rubia. Jen loves monkeys more than anything else in this world so she was filled with joy and excitement. Rubia and I were semi-comatose. We hailed a cab and asked the drive to take us to the Estacion de Autobuses. After a zippy cab ride, we arrived at the bus station, purchased our tickets, and got on the bus.

Rubia and I ran to the back of the bus, taking advantage of the full bench in the back row and taking a nap for an hour and a half. When we got to the Marbella bus station, our nap had to end for the bus filled up with people, including a sailor-mouthed Englishman who sat between Rubia and I on the bench and rolled his own cigarette while telling us about his life and how to get to Gibraltar. When we got to the final stop in the Spanish city of La Linea de la Concepcion, he grabbed his pack, pointed us in the right direction, and headed for the border.

Rubia and I were a bit more alert and this point, and Jen was still the happiest and most optimistic I have ever seen her. We made our way to the border, and showed our passports. To get to the city of Gibraltar, you have to walk across the Gibraltar airport--in fact you have to walk on the airport's one runway. Gibraltar is owned by England, and upon entering the United Kingdom, we immediately spotted one of those red telephone booths that everyone takes a picture inside when they go to England. I have been jealous of those photos for years, so I made sure that I got my photo taken in it.

We followed the signs toward the historic town center. Along the way, guides called out to us, offering to show us the highlights of the rock. Jen and I believe that those things are scams, so while Rubia wanted to take advantage of that opportunity, we wanted nothing to do with it. We passed through the town center, and Rubia got some Gibraltar pounds out of the ATM. In the distance, we saw a cable car system going up the Rock in the center of the town, and we decided to try to find where it went up.

When we got to the bottom of the cable car center, we were confronted by a highly persuasive guide that offered to show us the main sites of the rock for 25 euro. He told us that we would save over 3-4 kilometers of walking, gain entrance to some sites on top, and still pay less than the cable car. Despite Jen's and my initial prejudice against that sort of this, this made a lot of sense so we finally listened to Rubia and joined a British family and our guide in the van.

Our first stop was at the southern most point of the Rock. From the lookout point, you can see Africa. Legend says that a mountain used to separate the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, but Hercules smashed it, connecting the bodies of water and leaving behind two columns. Gibraltar is one of the columns and some African mountain is the other. At the closest point, only 3-4 miles separate Spain and Africa, and it was incredible realizing that we were looking across the sea at another whole continent.

We got back in the van and the little English boy, Tim, sat by me. He was short and plump with glasses and a British accent, and we found him hilarious. Our next stop was some caves within the rock, and on the way Tim asked me, "Do you like caves? I'm a bit afraid of them, but I do rather like them." Tim was on holiday with his mother and father, and his maternal grandparents. His grandfather used to be in the navy and lived in Gibraltar for a while before returning to England.

When we got out of the van, we saw our first Gibraltar monkeys. The guide told us to ignore them--there would be more later--but we could not resist taking a few photos of them scampering up walls and clinging to their babies. We went into the caves and while they were beautiful, I thought that the ones in Nerja were better. Jen, Rubia, and I left the caves before the British family and were greeted by our guide and a pack of monkeys. He had each of us take a turn standing by a post. A monkey then jumped on our head and crawled onto our shoulders, eager to get a peanut from our hands.

Tim was really excited about the monkeys. However, when it was his turn, a much bigger monkey got on the post. The guide tried to shoo him away, but the monkey was determined. It jumped on Tim's head, almost knocking him over, and we all tried to convince Tim not to be freaked out. After that, the guide gave us more peanuts and taught us how to make the monkeys jump up on our arms, warning us, "You don't touch the monkeys--the monkeys touch you!" Jen's face was filled with the purest glee and joy I have ever seen. All of her dreams came true in that short time.

Our next stop was a lookout point on the peak of the Rock. We took some wonderful pictures and saw some more monkeys. Our final stop was the tunnels of Gibraltar. The Rock is filled with kilometers and kilometers of man-made tunnels that the British made for defense back in the day. The tunnels we traveled were filled with mannequins dressed in traditional British military garb and posed in different scenes that would have occurred in the tunnel. Going down was much easier than going up.

Outside the tunnels we had one last photo opportunity before heading back down. Jen's camera broke while in the tunnel, deleting all but eight of her photos so she lost her good temperament and sulked the rest of the day. We still love her. Tim's father took photos of Rubia and I with Spain and the sea behind us, and we let Tim jump into a few photos. Our guide finally got us back in the van and took us back down to the city. Money well-spent.

The next bus did not leave until 3:30 pm so we still had about two hours to kill in Gibraltar. Rubia had spotted a restaurant with lots of vegetarian options on the way to the cable car site, so we made our way back there. After weeks of practicing our Spanish in every restaurant, it was strange to order food from a made speaking English. I ate the bocadillo Tere had packed me and tried a cheese and ham pizza at the shop. We spent the rest of our time wandering and exploring little shops and displays on the way back to the bus stop.

We called Pedro on our way back to the center, and he told that the 10 am bus had too full for Alejandro and him to board. Despite my tired start of the day, I was thankful that we had pushed ourselves to get up so early. When we got back to La Linea, we discovered that the bus information online was wrong and the next bus did not leave until 4:30. I was out of money and wanted to find an ATM, so we ventured into the city of La Linea. It was hot, dry, and unattractive. We felt blessed to have studied abroad in Malaga, and based on what I saw, I do not recommend that International Studies Abroad create ISA La Linea.

Finally our bus came, and we headed off the Marbella. Tragically, the change in bus times left us with only two hours there instead of three. When we arrived at the Estacion de Autobuses in Marbella, we quickly got off, bought our tickets from Marbella to Malaga, and sped walked the twenty minute walk to the beach. We decided we had about 45 minutes to spend and the beach before we had to head back, so Rubia and I quickly changed into our swimming suits. Jen sat by the stuff while we ventured out on the pile of rocks that extended far out into the sea.

On our way back to the sandy part of the beach, Rubia realized her dream of playing paddle ball with natives, and I swam my way back to the main beach. Marbella's beach was beautiful and filled with shells, and I decided to collect some. I met a young boy from Sevilla there, and he helped me find shells. Like many young Spaniards, he was excited to hear that I was from the United States. While I did not make many lasting connections with Spaniards, little interactions like this made my experience so much more worthwhile.

Our time flew by far too quickly, and Jen, Rubia, and I returned to the bus stop, drying our swimsuits and bodies as we walked. Marbella was a beautiful town and put La Linea to shame. The Spanish bus system further caused problems, and we accidentally got on a non-direct bus to Malaga instead of the express bus for which we had paid an extra two euro. I slept on the bus, weary after a day of monkeys, sun, and high-energy British children. We took another zippy taxi ride back to la Plaza de la Malagueta and headed to our respective apartments. Thankfully, Tere had supper waiting for me to heat up when I returned.

Despite all the stress and confusion, a monkey sat on my head--that made it all worth it.



Click here for photos!

Una visita granadina

After an amazing Friday in Nerja, we spent the rest of the weekend in Granada.

Granada is one of those must-see cities in Spain, not just because Evan Moore studied there, but also because of the history and beauty of its buildings and scenery. Since it is only about an hour from Malaga, we got to sleep in a bit later, meeting at la Manquita at 9:45. As per usual, a few people were late and we were on the road by 10 AM. I slept a little, but watched the countryside and felt excited about a new city.

Our first day in Granada was much more relaxed than the usual first day of our excursions. We had a little free time to use los aseos and grab a coffee when we arrived. Most of the bus piled into El Corte Ingles (it is similar to a big Macy's), and feverishly went up and down the escalators, desperate to find the bathroom. After successfully completing my mission, I saw one of those Espana futbol scarves on sale in a display of Copa Mundial (World Cup) stuff. Knowing how much it would enhance my college dorm room, I bought it.

We reunited with our directors, Heidi and Raquel, and took a leisurely walk down the colorful streets of Granada on our way to the Catedral de Granada. When we got there, Raquel warned us not to accept rosemary from the gypsies--if you take it, they will harass you for money. I do not think that system of business can be very successful. Instead of visiting the main cathedral, however, we went around the corner to visit la Capilla Real (Royal Chapel).

Once inside, I saw the hateful sign that said I could not take pictures, so my memory will have to serve to remember it. La Capilla Real was built by los Reyes Catolicos (Fernando y Isabela) after they conquered Granada. It serves as a mausoleum for five people: them, their daughter, Juana la Loca, her husband, Felipe el Guapo, and their oldest grandson, Miguel da Paz. Like every religious building in Europe, it was ornate, beautiful, and overwhelming.

After the chapel, we took a little paseo (walk) with our guides. They took us down a scenic path from where we could see la Alhambra up on the hill. At this point, we were all hungry and grouchy and wanted to take siestas. We walked to our hotel, got our keys (thankfully more than one this time!), and found our rooms. As always, Matteo, Felipe, and I shared a room, and when we got inside, we discovered that my bed was in a separate room, giving me a "private room." Since Matteo usually gets back two hours after I do, and Felipe two hours after him, this worked well. Its amazing how this pattern always plays out, even if I do not come back until 4 AM.

The three of us headed off with Alejandro, Zach, and Jordan to find a buffet house for which a man on the street had given us fliers. We arrived and stuffed ourselves with salad, paella, pizza, pasta, and ice cream. Honestly, we ate so much that we almost just took naps outside on the street. The walk back to our hotel seemed to take forever and when we finally got there, Matteo, Felipe and I collapsed in our respective beds, taking four-hour siestas.

After our siestas, we got up to prepare for our "surprise" that was listed on the itinerary. We headed out at 8:30, and Raquel lead us up the narrow streets of Granada, always going up and up the slanted streets. She told us we were "entering Morocco" due to all of the Moroccan shops and a nearby man said, "No, es Granada!" We had no idea where she was taking us, although many people hoped it would be a flamenco show.

Eventually, we stopped at a lookout point and were amazed by what we saw. The whole city of Granada was beautifully laid-out and filled with the glow of sunset. Directly in front of us, across the city we saw the beautiful La Alhambra, a fortress/city/castle built by the Muslims and the final defense against the Christians during la Reconquista. We also said that that was all the surprise we needed, but I think in our minds we all hoped there would be more, especially after all that walking.

Raquel then lead us down some more narrow streets, eventually stopping outside a Flamenco theatre! It was small and authentic, and we were so very excited. They sat our group on the left side of the room; the right side was filled with Japanese tourists. I sat in the very front row with Andi, Brandi, and Meghan, literally three feet from the stage. The waiter came and took our drink orders (Coca Cola Light for me!), and we got ready to enjoy the show.

Two different groups performed that night, made of six performers each. Some sang, others played guitar, and one person danced at a time. Flamenco involves a lot of stomping and clapping and at some points reminded me a little bit of Step Up or Stomp the Yard. The dances were beautiful, and I got to see an old woman dance while clicking her castanets, my favorite part of flamenco. I eagerly took video clips and photos, hoping to make a compilation video when I got home.

At the end of the show, the dancers began to snatch people up from the audience to participate. Alejandro went first, followed by a student from another Study Abroad group. I always get chosen for that sort of thing, so I put down my sunglasses and gave my camera to Andi in preparation. Sure enough, the old castanet lady looked at me, smiled, and crooked a finger so I jumped up on the stage. I made a complete fool of myself but got a lot of cheers, especially when I shook my butt. Basically, it was just a wonderful night.

We headed back to a night life center close to our hotel head-over-heels in love with flamenco. I had a nice talk in Spanish with Heidi, asking her if she put Matteo and I together as roommate because we both have badonkadonk butts. She said no. When we got to the center, Pedro, Brandi, Lisa, Alejandro, Jen, Rubia and I decided to go for tapas. We went to a little restaurant where I got Spanish tortilla and split some sangria with Alejandro and Pedro. Our tapas left us wanting a little more, so the girls went for ice cream while the boys got kebabs. Classic.

Since we had a big day at the world-renowned Alhambra the next day, we decided to call it an early night and get a little sleep. I went on my computer, checked a few things, and went to sleep. Matteo followed the two hour rule, but Felipe did not get back until after 8 AM. Oh Felipe... We got up in the morning at 9, had a delicious breakfast buffet at the hotel, and then rode the bus to La Alhambra.

We were all quite excited about La Alhambra. Our guide lead us through some gardens first, followed by some sort of stables. La Alhambra really is a city filled with houses and castles, gardens and fountains. I walked with Raquel most of the time, having a Spanish conversation about our mutual love for Crepusculo (Twilight). Although Raquel is Spanish, she read the books in English. I think books are always best in their native language. Raquel told me she had already bought her ticket for the first showing of Eclipse in Spain. Twilight unites everyone.

There was so much beauty within the various buildings and gardens of La Alhambra--I really cannot even describe it. Look at my pictures; they do a better job. Within the walls, there is one hotel which used to be a Franciscan monastery. Our guide told us that it is super expensive to stay there, but some people do it. There was also a palace built by Christians which was never actually used. We saw the power and majesty of the Sultan within his buildings, and the ever pervasive marks of a Moor dwelling: fountains and orange trees.

After leaving La Alhambra, we had a little free time for lunch. Aftyn, Katie, Brittni, Andrea and I went into one restaurant, but when we saw they did not have menus we ran for it. We met up with Rubia, Elena, and Lisa at another outdoor restaurant, and I ate delicious veal ravioli. By the way, they do not really eat ground beef in Spain. If you eat cow, it is going to be veal. Always.

Halfway through la comida, some of our classmates joined us with their recently purchased fake Ray Ban sunglasses. Wanting my own pair, I set off to find the Africans who sold them to them. I had almost given up hope and was about to get on the bus home when one walked my way and approached me with his sunglasses display. He wanted 15 euro for the glassed but there was no way I was paying that much. We haggled for a while, and when I finally walked away and started to get on the bus, he agreed to let me buy them for 8 euro. Thank goodness for my Spanish skills.

When we got home, I showed them to Tere. She asked me if I had bought them at a real store or from "un negro." (This is actually the politically correct word in Spain, so don't be hatin'!) After I told her how I got them, she taught me the Spanish verb for "to haggle" (regatear) and gave me supper. I was surprised by how much I liked returning home after trips and saddened at the thought of returning to my permanent home in a little over a week.

Granada was beautiful--I am not ready to return to America.


Click here for photos!