La Zurriola Surf

I can't take credit for these photos. Sean's brother, Jacob, has a super fast, super fancy camera, that I decided I have to have someday, and he was able to get some great shots of Sean surfing while visiting last week. I have to say, sitting and watching the surfers in the water is very fun and entertaining. Sean had a great time out there too, and felt good to know that his fans, Ethan, Jacob, Alyssa and Andrea were all watching.

Hossegor part deux

We got home yesterday night from our second visit to Hossegor, France. Early Wednesday morning, and by early I mean 10am, we sleepily caught a train to our friendly neighboring country so Sean could catch some of the tastiest waves in Europe and I could do what I am best at, lay in the sun and wish I was French. The day was gorgeous, hot and sunny, and nothing but bright blue skies painted above our heads. When we arrived to Hossegor, I decided to do some shopping, which I wasn't able to do the first time around. After realizing I am only attracted to items 300 euro and over, I gave up and we headed to the beach - my only purchases being a beach umbrella and a hat to protect me from the blaring sun. I am not sure if I am getting old or what, but there was once a time when I sat in the sun for hours upon end without a worry in the world. Now, I am like an old lady, covered up, shaded from the sun and lubed up with sunscreen - quite a contrast to the half-naked French lounging around me in the sun. The day was fantastic, we spent the whole day on the beach, only breaking about 12 times for me to eat the fresh, delicious food that I love so much, just the usual - chocolate pastries, baguettes, cheeses, sandwiches, ice cream, etc...eh hem. As the sun set, we sat at an outdoor restaurant on the beach, where I indulged in a glass of some red wine. I've gotten in the habit of trying to speak French based on what I read on the menu - usually butchering the words completely, however I loved that the waiter just kindly smiled and corrected me, pleased at my effort. We decided to start looking for a place to sleep for the night.

Since we don't have such keen planning skills these days, we didn't book a hotel, and the last bus to the station had long gone. Of course, all 5 hotels in Hossogor were "complet", so we sat in the midst of the surprisingly very happening night life trying to think of plan B. As we sat there, 2 very inebriated French guys sat a little too close to me, trying desperately to have a conversation in French/English/Spanish/Italian with us. They were actually very hilarious, and we sat there for about an hour, listening to their interesting views of California where the girls are "easy" for French guys and political views of how much they love Obama. At one point one guy decided to name all of the U.S. presidents he knew and the other listed all the punk rock bands from California that he loved. They were even nice enough to offer us sips of beer from their tall cans, which we graciously declined. So, plan B for the night turned out to be going to the neighboring town of Cabreton. There are absolutely no night buses in this area, so we walked for about 10 miles in total, finally stopping at a hotel that was also complet. However, as I was about to ask if we could sleep in the lobby, the amazingly helpful concierge said he had one room reserved that the people hadn't checked in for yet. He made some phone calls, all of which I didn't understand, and miraculously the room became available to us, even at a decent rate. Gosh, I love the French.

The next morning, we explored Cabreton for a while, which is also a cute, very tiny little beach town with not much to it. We grabbed a cafe, which I have to say is one thing the French know nothing about. Italy is truly the only place to get a decent espresso or cafe, pretty much in the world. The cafe is exceptionally bad in France. However, the friendly lady serving us was just adorable. She spoke perfect English and actually guessed that we were from San Diego...we were shocked until she giggled and pointed out that Sean had a USD t-shirt on. She even taught me how to say five in French, which I quickly forgot. She was so happy and cheerful and welcoming, I almost wanted to just hang out with her. The people really make a difference when you travel.
We walked back to Hossegor, and Sean was on a mission to catch some tasty waves (my new favorite expression for some reason). To do that he insisted on walking well over a mile down the beach from the main town (the actual distance debatable depending on which one of us you ask) to the world famous surf spot, La Graviere, which was "barreling hard and heavy". We spent the whole day on the beach again, the only down side being that the waves were too big for me to go in the water! I am a wimp though, and remained safely under the shade of my umbrella and made faces at the cute little French baby that I had cracking up all afternoon. Her parents didn't seem to mind either. Then we walked the well-over-a-mile back to town to have some lunch and ice cream in the hot, hot sun, and then up to town to catch the last bus back to the station to take us home to San Sebastian. Good trip.

E arrivato il tempo...

As I listen to music now that we once woke up to every day in Rome, and look through pictures of everyday moments turned into the happiest of times in each of the passing seasons, I can't help but feel a bit nostalgic - for Rome, for teaching, for just waking up everyday to new extraordinary experiences. I remember back to the days leading up to our departure from the comforts of the U.S. I was emotional, scared and a little nervous for what my uncertain future would hold. I remember that feeling well, because it is how I feel now. We made the decision a long time ago, that we would only live in Europe for a year - get the most out of it, travel to as many places we could, experience as many cultures possible and soak in the Italian lifestyle to the full capacity. A year has come and gone, and we are faced with the uncertainty of returning back to the U.S., which feels like this big, scary, unfamiliar place now. I imagine returning being like meeting with old school friends for the first time in ages - you know you once were close but aren't sure you have much in common anymore. We've procrastinated buying plane tickets home, trying to weigh the pros and cons of staying or leaving, trying to imagine life in one place or another. We have been dodging making this life-altering decision, but like a rain cloud hovering in the sky threatening to ruin a sunny day, the inevitable is fast approaching. Like going back to school after the best summer of your life, like abruptly ending a romantic whirlwind relationship, like reaching a crossroad and both directions seem right and wrong at the same time....for now we will enjoy every moment here and buy our plane tickets home when that moment arrives.

Hossegor

It's no secret that I adore France. I am not sure I can describe why completely, but when we cross that little border, I feel so good, so happy and so at peace. It's like the French are so cool, calm and chic, even nice. When they speak it's like music to my ears, such a simply sweet sound. Everything seems natural, from the food to the merchandise sold in the little shops - like everything is crafted with care to be pretty and pleasing to every sense. The atmosphere of the smaller cities - clean and friendly and charming in every way. It's like the little colorful villages smile on visitors, and invite you to enjoy the cool, relaxing lifestyle.

We went to Hossogor, a little French beach village, famous for having the best surf in all of Europe. The small town consisted of literally 2 short main intersecting streets, lined with all the famous surf shops plus smaller beach boutiques, bakeries, and sandwicherias and 1 street that lead to the beach. The hot sun showered the beach, packed full of French sunbathers and surfers. Ice cream shops selling special soft serve ice cream that claims to be Italian, sweet-smelling waffles and traditional French creps with chocolate, lined the mile-long boardwalk. We arrived to Hossogor by 2 different trains and a bus that remained stuck behind an oil truck moving slower that it would have been to walk, the whole winding way there. After picking up egg sandwiches on the best bread known to man, we sat in the sun for hours. Sean had to coax me into the water like a small child because I was afraid of the waves. Of course once I got the courage to go in, after standing on the shore for about an hour, I got pummeled by a wave and ended up covered from head to toe in wet sand. That was it for me, and I remained on the safe, hot sand, while Sean body surfed until it was time to catch our bus back. I couldn't resist a fresh cool vanilla, chocolate ice cream, while waiting for the bus on the wrong side of the road. Luckily we got to the correct bus stop in time for the last bus of the day to take us to the station, after some friendly French people used sign language to tell us where to go. We had a fantastic day and Hossogor is just another reason for me to love France.

Surfing the Basque region

Sean has been surfing lots lately, and I have been practicing my photography skills. We love the surf culture here. There are always waves, and always a lot of people in the water - good, bad, old, young, boys, girls, long boards, short boards. After almost a year of living in Rome, it is nice to be surrounded by something from our roots, enjoying the beach and water.

When in Spain...

One of my favorite things about Spain is that the locals all buy a fresh, warm baguette everyday. The bread is some of the best I've had and we buy it everyday too, just to pick on, or make bocadillos (sandwiches). It's always fresh and delicious and at all times of the day you see people walking down the street with their daily baguette. Here's a picture of me last week, picking up some bread to make sandwiches for our trip. Yum!

Semana Grande

This week in San Sebastian is the annual "semana grande", which is basically a week long party with tons of people, parades and bands crowding the streets, free concerts and fireworks. We were gone traveling for most of the festivities, but luckily were here for the last 2 days and nights. Friday evening, we went to a free concert on the beach to watch a very famous Spanish group called, "La Oreja de Van Gogh ". I had never heard of them before, but Sean knew every song, and so did the millions of people on the beach watching. It was very pretty music, and so nice to lay in the cool sand, looking up at the stars glowing in the black night, listening to the lovely songs.

After sleeping in until noon yesterday, we threw together our suits, beach towels, smashball paddles and umbrella and headed out into the perfect 27 degree day (80 farenheit) and walked toward the beach. On our way there, we were stopped by several people, who must have noticed we were beach-ready, telling us that La Concha beach was closed because of bomb threats. There is a radical group here in "the Basque country", called ETA, who want the Basque region to become completely separate from Spain and have been known to act violently in different parts of Spain. Apparently, with all the chaos and festivities this week, supporters of this terrorist group have made their way to the small peaceful town of San Sebastian, to demonstrate and protest. The government has enforced a zero tolerance policy with this group, and any sort of propaganda posted around the city is taken down and any protests or demonstrations are immediately shut down by the police. The police are in full force and on high alert, especially with the mass amount of people in the city for the holiday. We walked over to our usual beach, Zurriola, and all seemed normal, besides the weird propaganda, and more police than normal. We spent hours in the sun, or shade of my umbrella, and swam in the wonderfully warm, but refreshing sea. It felt so nice, after all the traveling, to just relax on the sand, float in the water and soak up the beautiful day, and our beautiful surroundings. On our way home, we ran into complete chaos. We stopped to listen to a mariachi band playing on the sidewalk while the people watching danced, other odd street performers entertained the kids, parades filled the streets, millions of people were everywhere, all having a great time. We walked alongside a parade the whole way to our flat, and these crazy-looking giant-people characters ran around hitting people with big, plastic balloons. The children ran away screaming and laughing while these funny-looking giants chased after them. They hit anyone in their path with their balloons, even the old ladies watching. Everyone was laughing so much, including Sean and me, when we had to run out of the way to not get hit. The rest of the parade consisted of a bunch of rowdy, excited soccer fans dressed up in soccer gear, ready to go watch a match. Everyone was having a great time, when all of the sudden, we realized we were no longer walking with the parade of soccer fans, and children running around, and were walking alongside ETA supporters, who were chanting in their Euskera language and holding up posters of their terrorist prisoners who are currently being held. The vibe changed, and the others walking down the street with us grew concerned. The police arrived within minutes to shut them down, complete with their shields for extra protection. Sean and I turned down a side street, as I was nervous and just wanted to get home. We picked up our pace walking when we heard gun shots go off and everyone began running, covering their heads and screaming. We started running too with everyone else. I dropped my beach umbrella, Sean ran back to get it and I lost him for a second in the crowd. Finally we both ran up to our front door, opened it with shaking hands, got inside, closed the door and watched hundreds of people run by. I had never been so scared in all my life, and have never been so shaken. It felt like we were in the middle of something you would see on the news. The scary part too, was that we didn't know what was going on, and anything could have happened. It was very sad that a fun, happy event turned into something scary within a matter of seconds. We calmed down inside for a while, then headed back out. Everything was back to normal and millions of people were out having a good time. We watched the fireworks, walked downtown in the mix of all the partying and enjoyed some cold sangria. I am sure everyone in the city is resting and recovering from the week of craziness today.

Madrid...Sevilla...Andalucia

Sean and I joke that we should be on the show Amazing Race, the show where couples compete against other couples racing around the world, getting clues, going through obstacles to get to some unknown destination. We say this because whenever we travel we are rushing to catch buses or trains, reading maps and trying to find particular points of interest, trying to unlock the mysteries of each city, finding random places to sleep when we arrive, and never knowing where we are going next until the moment we are in it.

We just got back from traveling to 6 incredible Spanish cities in a matter of 5 days, which felt like an amazing race in itself. We left Sunday evening by train, which passed smooth, green landscape and fields and fields of beautiful, enormous sunflowers and arrived to our first stop, Madrid. It was such a shocking contrast to San Sebastian, so big and full of a diverse mix of people and grand sights, almost like Rome. We found a super cheap pension (which is just a room in a big flat, converted to be a low-budget but nice hotel) in the center of the city with a friendly owner, who joked with us about the people from San Sebastian always having their noses in the air. We had to agree as the south of Spain immediately had a much friendlier feel to it than the north. We have gotten in this weird habit of eating Turkish falafel kabobs in almost every new city we go to, so that is what we did after checking in. Then we went for a long, late night walk exploring the lively city, full of loud music and tons of people partying. The next morning, we indulged in churros y chocolate, which was a first for me. You dip these super greasy churros in hot chocolate so dense it's almost like warm pudding. Yum. We walked to all the sights in the hot summer sun. The locals were so nice, in fact, when we stopped to consult the map at one point in the day, a nice old lady pointed us in the direction of a sight we would be interested in, but didn't even know about, and while sitting on a park bench a nice old man sat with us to chat.

We caught a late bus to Sevilla. I have to say, bus travel is a nice way to go. It takes longer than the trains, but is much cheaper and you have the same luxuries - reclining chairs, air conditioning, movies, nice scenery. The only problem is that I feel sick if I try to read, so Sean plus our new cell phone that plays the radio and video games kept me entertained when a movie wasn't on. We arrived in Sevilla around 1am. Sevilla is a special place, not only because it is where the tomb of Christofer Columbus lives, but it is also where Sean lived 10 years ago! It was his first time back in the city since, but he knew exactly how to get to the city center, which was nice. We found another super cheap pension right away and crashed. The next day was hot and full of more sightseeing and a little shopping around. I adored the Spanish feel of the city, with colorful ceramic tiles and Flamenco dancing tributes everywhere. The main attraction was Plaza de Espana, which was an enormous, beautiful plaza, colorfully decorated with tiles for every city in Spain. It also had a more modern feel mixed in with the old - I even went to Starbucks for the first time in forever!

We left Sevilla late night, and decided to catch the bus to Cadiz. Cadiz is a coastal city, and therefore full of much more tourism. We walked around literally the entire city at about 2am, walking into every pension or hotel asking for a room, all of which were completo. We had 2 options, either stay in a nice 4 star hotel, which of course had availability, or try to make a bed on the beach. A true backpacker would have tried roughing it, but instead I opted for the 4-star, mostly out of tiredness and wanting to just be done walking. It hurt to spend the money, but the bubble bath, cool clean sheets and air conditioning made it worth it. I realized that I really don't understand the star rating on hotels. We have stayed in a million 1-star hotels that are surprisingly nice and clean, always with friendly, accommodating owners and even some with air conditioning, and then stayed in a 4 star hotel, that was just kind of average (just really expensive). Either way, it was probably the safer alternative to sleeping outdoors. The next morning, while surrounded by about a million annoying British tourists, we had our cafe, which I ordered con hielo (with ice) because of the excruciating summer heat. I guess the month of August is the wrong time to travel in Europe if you want a true cultural experience because really, you end up spending your time around a lot of other tourists. We went to the beach and jumped in the surprisingly cool Mediterranean. The sun dried us within seconds. I really liked Cadiz a lot - a small beach city with lots of narrow streets, joined by big plazas, little shops, Spanish restaurants, and 1 big cathedral, which was the main attraction. Just like Rome, a lot of the appeal in Spain is the magnificent architecture. After seeing the whole small city in the day, we took off for Malaga.

The bus ride to Malaga took us along the southern most coast of Spain. We were so close to Africa we could almost touch it. Pretty amazing to think of where we were on the map. Never in my wildest dreams would I have foreseen this life and I count my blessings everyday. Because of our difficulty in finding a hotel in Cadiz, we decided to plan ahead and book a hostel online for Malaga. This was a mistake. The room was absolutely empty of furniture - literally the only thing in it was a bed, that had 1 sheet on it. I was accompanied in the communal bathroom by a lovely cockroach at one point too. We tried to stay out as late as possible to avoid being in this room. The city was lively all through the night, which was fun to walk around and see. I slept all of 1 hour maybe through the entire night, due to loud noises outside - trash collectors or drunk bums on the street, the heat was brutal, and around 6am loud construction began. The bright street light shining directly through the window didn't help matters through the night either. Needless to say, I woke up feeling drained, eyes puffy and barely open and head foggy, but we charged on. After sightseeing a bit in Malaga - which was a pretty big city with lots of shops and restaurants and big cathedral at the center of it all, we took off on a short bus ride to a little pueblo called Torremolinos. This small but busy city was up on a cliff, where a steep, winding road lined with street vendors lead to the tropical beach. Sean went for a dip in the water, while I struggled to stay awake and cool in the shade. Torremolinos reminded me of Mexico in some ways. It had a very old town feel to it, but also catered to the tourists. After a nice lunch, and a lot of walking around, we were off to Cordoba.

Cordoba was HOT. It was nowhere near the coast and the heat was so strong it was suffocating. there was no question that we were in the desert here. The temperature was about 35 celsius at 11pm (95 fahrenheit) when we arrived, and during the day got up to 43 degrees (110 degrees farenheit!). We found a fabulously air conditioned, super cheap hotel right in the main plaza and showered and slept immediately as our exhaustion was overwhelming. We got up bright and early, almost refreshed and ready to go. I think Cordoba, despite the heat, was my favorite. There was no tourism, so we could really feel the quaint Spanish lifestyle. The main attraction here was the grand mosque, which was in the center of the small city, with cobble stone streets and old buildings and homes. We ate the most amazing, authentic lunch of paella and gazpacho and I can honestly say for the first time, I loved the food here. The restaurant was so colorful and lovely with plants all over the colorful ceramic tiles. We really felt like we were in Spain here, and that was the best part. It felt very real and we could really be apart of the beautiful Spanish lifestyle.
Our bus back to San Sebastian didn't part until 11pm, so we were able to spend the whole day walking, or sitting in the shade people watching in the plazas. At one point, I joined all the little local kids in running through the water fountains to cool off.

The bus ride back lasted 13 hours. It was completely full and our seats were in the very back, so they didn't recline. We loved bus travel until this ride. Our seats weren't even together at first and when we asked to switch with these girls so we could sit together, they said no, which we thought was strange and kind of rude. Finally, after about 2 hours one girl changed her mind, mainly because I think she wanted my reclining seat. So, we sat together cramped in the back and tried to sleep as much as possible. We arrived to a much cooler San Sebastian at noon the next day, very very tired, but very satisfied from a fun adventure through Spain.