va-va-va-vaaalencia!!!

after a 9 hr. bus ride (no ac), it's safe to say a bit of "type a" erin surfaced in the form of mild anxiety attacks. and then, i shocked myself! i've only been eating on the go- grab a tomatoe, quick sandwitch, a granola bar, whatever. oh, and tapas. but that's easy, "una cerveza, por favor." BAM! beer and food. (well maybe not BAM! the pace here is about 8 times slower.) contrary to popular belief, spaniards don't speak spanish. they are patient with you if you try to speak their language, for about 45 sec. i was wondering around the city at siesta time and there was nothing open but this one place. pallela! i've never had pallela before and it was invented in valencia, so there is no better place!! and i ate it with seafood!!!! (not the ones with the eyes still on it though.) it's delicious. (i've decided not to mention how good it kept getting through my stay for your sake and so that i don't have to reveal how much food i ate in a 3 day period.)

later this night i found myself in a conversation with a kiwi, an italian, and a spaniard (who was loco and kept asking me if i played american video games and went through every simpson's episode he has ever seen. in spanish.) it was ridiculous. arms were flying everywhere, people were yelling, then a french girl tried to help translate- it went spanish to italian then italian to french and then french to english to spanish and then italian. it was the most fun i have ever had at that level of annoyance.

and then my favorite things, everybody together now- free walking tours!! this one though... so every guide always mentions how the official city guides hate these free walking tours. because it's free. (but you give tips... i know.) the officials think these tours are taking away their business. like any backpacker would voluntarily give up 30 euros for an old lady to walk you around town. this perticular afternoon we had a rager. she even called the police! everyone was freakin out, the germans are trying to sneak off, and nobody has their passport. then one of the police officers informed us that we were doing nothing illegal. we were hanging out, having a good time, and learning something new. sounds to me like livin' the dream. and this was a jealous woman who was thinking she was losing some kind of power and needed it back by using fear. the police. 50 years ago, we would all have been tortured or killed for gathering in a group larger than 2 people. there are still people alive today who lived in franco's spain, and these are the people who fought for freedom. the freedom we were practicing, and the freedom this perticular officer vowed to never let leave her city. so, the woman screamed and our tour went on! (spanish history makes my heart pitter patter.)

one of my favorite bands (vampire weekend) sings a song called 'horchata'. well guess what- horchata is a drink that comes from valencia! i was on a mission. and unfortunatly for my amigo (who has never heard the song- or the band) i sang the song over and over again until we got there. and then a little while we were there, and maybe once after. "you remember drinking horchata.." sometimes i would change the words up a little "we are gunna drink a horchata.." or maybe "are we almost at the horchata?..." so charming.

it's like a smoothie made with 1 lb. of sugar, almonds, and ice.

since we were then all jacked up on sugar we decided to climb to the top of the belltower. it is so steep, so narrow, so small- there was one point when i couldn't tell if i was going up or down. you can't tell how much there is infront of you or behind you. 261 steps = legs like jello.


later in the evening i walk into a bar- and what do my wondering eyes behold??? anthony!! (tight guy from lisbon.) we drank, we danced, we laughed!

i was woken up the next morning by an italian boy, "erin, i propose to you??" NO! NO! NO NO NO NO NO!!!! just kiddin'. kinda. the italian boy (named italo) was a roomate who had his english words confused. he meant to say "i ask". i hope. (and he also never wore pants. me: italo! where are your pants?? italo: pants? what are pants? me: pants! [pointing to mine] pantalones! italo: pantalones?... oh, yes! pants!! he still didn't put them on.) well we went to the future. i can hear you saying, "the future?" yes, the future. cuidad de las ciencias. i felt like i was in the '1984' orwell novel. also mixed with the motion picture 'independence day' staring will smith! but i think my favorite part was when i said my hair looks pretty wild, italo responds with, "yes. your hair is giving the buildings some competition for attention."

my weekend with the gypsies

i feel like granada spain was a city made for me to blog about. it reminds me of austin a lot. it's a small town but has a big city feeling to it. (and this whole country is kuku for recycling!) it's also a college town so it comes with the young urban vibe. why it's possibly better than austin? the fortress. and tapas. (more on tapas in a min.) why it's not? no music, except for flaminco. (more on flaminco in a min.) and the whole city shuts down on sundays.

granada is basically divided into 4 different neighborhoods: the muslims, the jews, the catholics, and the gypsies.

i'm all about the gypsies.

the guy working at the hostal said the neighborhood was super close and super safe and they don't mind people going into their neighborhood. they live in caves, and they are aware that people don't live like this anymore.

altitude ass kicking #2.

these caves are on cliffs. so you have to get to the cliff to see the cave. and no, it's not far. but it´s ALL uphill. no joke- i walked about 3 miles down this road looking for gypsies. i saw one cave on the side of the mountain next to the one that i was on. i had to see something better than that. i wasn't going to give up- i had a cliff bar and a half full bottle of water on me! i'm fine! and then standing in the middle of the road was a posse of men. so then i thought to myself- "self, you have 2 choices: 1. possibly see what my distorted vision of a gypsy is (think aladin- monkeys, genie lamps, bells...) or 2. possibly be gypsy lunch." so i left.

i'm walking the exact same road, just going a different direction and now i can hear music and children playing. but i can't see anyone! i keep looking harder and i see something bright green showing between some branches. then i zoom out- i was looking at the wrong side of the street the whole time! there were caves for days and a whole 30 feet away from me.

the fence is pretty obvious in this picture- but if you look closely into the sides of the cliff you can see two entrances into the cave. it's amazing!!

life lesson #3: everything is better with your eyes open!

i should have known that an afternoon like that would lead for a very interesting evening. lovisa (tight swiss chick) and i go out for some tapas (another reason why i love granada) and in this city every drink you order comes with a free tapa. 1.80 for a cerveza and tapa! unfortunatly, this evening a little girl standing right next to us decided to have a vom-fest all over herself and the bar. we can't get away. gag. her parents aren't helping her. gag. people are stepping in it. gag. moving along... it's a saturday night in granada and the hostal staff takes us out and my life becomes like a song: SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!!!! (if you don't know, you need to know.) this bar has only shots- 140 of them actually. divided by weak, medium, and fuerte. the best part of the whole evening- i was the only american there, and to "celebrate" we took the USA shot.

omg look at their faces!!!! it was horrible!!!! super sweet at first and then the most bitter/sour taste ever!!!

the next morning lovisa and i get up early to do my favorite thing. free walking tours!!! we make our way to the square about 5 min. early. we see a group of people gathering & let's go! a man hands us a little flier with info. on it and it's all in spanish and they are all talking in spanish. dang- but that's ok, we can walk with them and look at stuff, between the two of us we can figure something out. we then begin to piece together what's happening here- some of them have walking sticks. that's ok, granada is hilly, the sierra navada mountains are right there. one man has a full pack on. that's a little weird. yep, they all have on legit hiking boots. yep, we're on our way into the wild. stop following them.

i don't even know how to begin the next topic. did i deserve it? sure. was i freaked out? oh yea. was it amazing? yes.

arab baths. (when in rome, right?) after wondering through small streets with too many turns i arrive, aljibe baños árabes for my 4pm reservation. after a speech i didn't understand, i am given a number for my massage, told to put on my swimsuit and then walk through this big wooden door. and now i'm in a cave. it's hot and humid and smells like tea, there is arabic music playing quietly in the backround and the whole place is lit with 100s of tea candles. there are 7 different shaped baths scattered all around. some are long and rectangular, some are small octagons, and then there is a raised one in the center. this bath is the temp. of ice water. i sat in this bath for 10 min. this was not nice. but then it got amazing. all the water in the other 6 baths are different levels of hot. 10 min. in the cold bath, 10 min. in a hot bath, back for 10 in the cold, and then 10 in a different hot.... i've decided we need one of these in austin. and a real tapas bar. after my second round of baths it got real weird. my number was called for my massage along with another young lady by a "big bertha" looking woman. she leads the two of us to a secluded area in the cave and tells the other girl to lay down. i'm standing there- and then bertha continues to take off the girls bikini- and i'm right there. WHAT. THE. FUCK. then a small woman who looked freakishly like steve urkel came to get me. phew... followed by a slice of pizza, i took the best siesta ever.

this night we went to see some authentic flamenco. we went to a local hole in the wall bar where the patrons took turns performing. the style of singing is so strong and so full of emotion. it's all about oppression and you can feel the pain in their eyes! the skills of the guitar players are amazing. it almost sounds like there are 3 or 4 playing at one time. i was most amused by the clapping. this man could clap so loud and make sounds i didn't think could happen! then i was told that in spain, they have an expression that is only used here: tocar palmas. which means to play the palms. it's amazing!

the people in granada (not the bus drivers) were a kind of their own. one afternoon wondering with lovisa we found our selves in an area with no people, many different ways to go, and we're pretty sure we have no idea where we are. then we see a man sitting on a chair by himself. he's smiling and says, "el centro!" while pointing to a trail. "yea right, buddy!! we're gunna walk down that unpopulated trail that you say is going to take us back downtown!" well 10 min. later we circle around, get a little more confused, figure it out- and i'll be damned. the creeper was no creeper. that's just how he rolls. he chills and tells people where to go. people sing while they walk, the streets came alive at 11pm on a sunday when granada's futbol team won, old men in electric wheelchairs play songs for you on their horns, and they make a bomb falafel.

it was a little weird when we came home one night to a flock of paralyzed spanish midgets drinking 40s on the stoop to the hostal.

i'm sure many of you are wondering, "what about the CHI?? how does erin's hair look??" well... not that great. but i haven't wanted to straighen it once! get this- a girl asked me if i wanted to use hers, and i said- no thanks!!!! (so- dear dubby, you were right.)

¡sevilla!

when i arrived in sevilla i was feeling a little down- not sad, or second guessing. just super tired and a little bummed out not having felt the fuego in madrid. i was sitting outside watching the beautiful people of sevilla walk by (and their straight out of vogue outfits) eating a tapa and having some agua. i reached down to grab my bag, and right there was a hu-mongo feather!

it was so obvious! for those of you who don´t know... feathers are my "thing". i have the tattoo, sweet cousin rebecca gave my a feather bracelet that i have tied around my pack, i have them everywhere around me. and when i see a feather at a time like this- it´s a sign to me from my angels (most importantly my dad and aunt gwen) that everything is OK!

so after a lovely siesta, a hot shower, i went with some ladies from the hostel to the first tapas bar ever! (apparently, there are about 23 ´first tapas bar ever´)

after finishing tapas (around 1am) we head over to the "hottest night club in sevilla". it´s empty. we were told to wait 30 more min. and see what happens. 2am people begin to sprinkle in... 2:30 it´s packed. and it´s wednesday! i hope i get used to this. i found out here that sevilla is a major study abroad for city in spain for american girls. 19 yr. old american girls who get super drunk, scream, fall, and vom all over themselves. i can do this in austin any night!! so i left (right after a lady gaga bad romance remix.)

sevilla is the most conservative city in spain. and the people are so proud, classic and beautiful. there are churches for miles and the city is much cleaner than the others i have seen. the older women still wear traditional dresses while the younger women have style i couldn´t even begin to think of. the men style their hair perfectly, with loafers and gold cuff links. it´s so classic and beautiful!

the city itself is so difficult to get around. being the hottest city in spain, the streets were made very narrow with walls atleast 2 stories tall to block the sunlight from beaming down. (also to mention, their each about 3 blocks long and change names half way thtough.) it´s the worlds largest urban hedge maze!

siestas, an evening by the pool on the terrace (the sun doesn´t set till 10pm!) and more tapas. i think i can get used to this!a local told us about a jam session in a neighborhood close to the hostel, and some of us were daring enough to try to find it. the trick was that there is no sign- only a red door. well... 15 red doors later we found it! it was like ´last concert cafe´meets 'emo´s' while all in spain. there was a full band with a brass section and 3 guys from morocco singing with some freestlye over it all. my favorie cultural experience so far. (next to the siesta.) i wish i took more pics so it could explain itself, but that would have given away my tourist nature.

sevilla was beautiful. i loved it. except for one thing that has convinced me to leave today. the allergies. i can´t breath. (and the old men on every corner selling tradition arabic insense isn´t helping.) i´m over it. that and the fact that i´m 99% positive that a gypsy cursed me while i was on a walk this morning. no details necessary.

el fuego en madrid.

the locals all speak of this burning passion inside the corazons (hearts) of the people in madrid. i believe it- i see it. but ask anyone who has been there (at least while i was there) about their stay in madrid. the answer is, "aww.. dude.. i don´t really know. i´m just so tired."
and now i would like to introduce you to this little guy:


this is the OFFICIAL mascot/symbol of madrid. he´s a bear, and he´s eating fermented fruit off of a tree. he does this to get drunk- and then he takes a nap under that tree, just so that he can wake up and do it all over again!

3 days was simply not enough time to get to know the city of experience this fuego. day one was spent completely on museums. my "spanish civil war sensai" (chris from brooklyn) and i spent ALL day at the museo del prado (one of the worlds top 10 classic art museums) and the reina sofia. the museums were full of amazing paintings (like goya´s "pinturas negras") and sculptures. but where did i end up? lying under a tree in the grassy knoll watching people walk by. i came to the realization that fancy art museums are like family- you love them but you don´t always to like them. and according to the yawns across the faces of the other patrons, i think it´s safe to say the majority of them felt the same way too.

the next morning was a walking tour through central madrid- this city does have some fascinating history. i was unaware that the spanish civil war was only 70 yrs. ago and that franco held power over this country for 30 + yrs. there is history everywhere- bullet holes still in buildings, political art work found on the street, and muslim architecture still being used. (half of spain was muslim!)after a siesta came a pub crawl. and again, i don´t know how the europeans do this. it´s a monday night and we didn´t leave the last bar until 4:30 am. the streets were still full of people singing and drinking.

this night i was proposed to by 2 spaniards, an argentinian, and a guy from michigan. (who also happened to be the bartender. weird, right?)

this city is the NYC of spain. it´s huge and it never stops.
so to me, it was just another big city. i´m glad i came- and i´m also glad i´m leaving.

sintra, portugal

anthony, phil and i decided to go to sintra on my last day in lisbon. and this place was unbelievably magical- and only a 30 min. train ride outside of the city. (at this point, i have yet to experience a cooperative train experience- and they will get worse. trains have a blog of their own. unfortunately, i´m still collecting data in this area.) so we will begin with the scariest bus ride of my life. a little nauseous. a lot dizzy. there´s a picture of me floating around somewhere with my eyes closed, sitting on my hands, and breathing heavily. think taxis in mexico on crack. straight uphill with turns so tight the bus had to reverse down them to make a sharper turn. then there was some smack talk with anthony to an old man. (more importantly, a line cutter.) imagine the shock when he turned around, and with an obvious northern irish accent, he says ¨yea he´s right here. and he speaks english, too!!¨ dang! (anthony and the man ran into each other in the men´s room later... anthony felt hands on his shoulders... yada yada yada, they´re cool now.)

sintra is home of some beautiful castles. we chose the park and palace of pena. it was beautiful. but because we´re cheap we decided to hike up a hill to look at the castle instead of go inside of it.

followed by: high altitude ass kicking #1.
we hiked up a mountain. some call it a hill, i beg to differ. (oh, and don´t talk to me when i´m walking up a mountain.)



as you can see, it was the best idea ever!!

the only mistake i made in portugal.

the bartender at the hostel takes a group of us out to see lisbon´s nightlife. our first stop is at a small bar a few blocks away to see an electric euro-pop band. we danced- they laughed- everyone was having a great time. one of the band members told me to come talk to them, and like any obnoxious american would, i spoke super slow and super loud, "doo y'aall speeak eenglishh?!" one guy smiled and tilted his head (kinda like a dumb puppy) and he says, "uhh.. a little." then me (slower and louder) "thaaat waasss GOOODD!!!!!" yea, they´re from brooklyn. good one, erin.



i don´t even know how to explain the rest of the evening. drinking beer in glass bottles, on the street, at 3am. (not me.) drinking whiskey out of a clear glass cup on the bus full of cops. (not me, either.) i have no idea where we were, some kind of warehouse filled with many different rooms and a different party in each one. 6 stories high with different electronic dance parties in the hallways of every floor. there were tents outside with dub-step booming from everyone of them, people everywhere drinking in alley ways. at 4am phil and i look at eachother with the same look of despair in our faces. we´re so not european enough for this. gladly, we ditch the group and head for bed.

(i thought the "discotexas" poster was amazing.)

lesson #2- always bring the address and a map of your hostel with you when you go out at night.

and now for the mistake-
i woke up the next morning and saw my foot. it was covered with a red shiny goo like substance. almost like a bloody puss. it was so gross. did i cut my foot!? am i losing a toe nail? i didn´t fall... and nothing hurts... oh wait... my stomache does... ohhh NOOO!!!!!!! what was i thinking?! similar to a 2am taco bell run in texas (which is a good idea at the time, but is a death wish for the next morning) is a hot dog (off the street) in lisbon. i wanted an experience, so i got mine with everything. the goo on my foot was ketchup and mayo. (nasty.) thank god for tumms.

lisboa!

after getting lost a few times my first afternoon in lisbon, i´ve picked up these interesting facts:
1. portuguese women don´t wax, dye, or pluck their mustaches.
2. portuguese men love blonds. especially when they attempt to speak portuguese.
3. portuguese women hate blonds. even more when they speak.
4. for the first time in my life i stood somewhere, and said to myself, ¨the sun sets west.. Never... East.... Soggy.... Waffles- AH HA! that way!!!¨
5. the local beer is super bock- not to be confused with shiner bock.
6. i´m pretty sure the building that the hostel is in is older than the country that i am a citizen of.



the city is so urban, full of color and life. i love it!!!

next thing you know- i´m playing flip-cup with a bunch of americans. (and 2 canadians- one which drank too much wine and started to cry about how much she hates americans. infront of 5 americans. and 2 texans.)

the next day was full of sight seeing in belém. (i was fortunate enough to be in a room with 3 guys- and then meet another tight guy- the only problem was that i got way too good at ¨that´s what she said¨ jokes.) monuments, cathedrals, fountains, towers... but most importantly, pasteis de belém. the café itself seats 2000 people at one time. they have been making the most delicious pastry i have ever had since 1837- and only 3 living people know the recipe, making over 20,000 a day.


i know, i know. and don´t worry- we sprinkled cinnamon and powdered sugar on top.

LORD, HAVE MERCY!!!

i wanted to "go with the flow", and i didn´t get a chance to get out of houston before i got some pretty shitty flows.

first big sacrifice: get it right, people. i left my CHI (hair straightener) at home. on purpose. what am i thinking!?

my relaxing morning jog turned into a rageing vomfest. and only after 27 min. at 8am. i can run 13.1 miles (three times!) but 27 min. in houston and i´m donezo. i´ll blame that one on the nerves.

delayed flight from houston to philly. expected time of arrival: aprox 3 min. before my connection to lisbon.

baby jesus? if i promise to keep flowing will you help me catch my flight?

and i did!

and then i saw a woman who was not flowing. on the plane to portugal, she is standing so we can all see her (and hear her) "i will not get off this plane. i AM going to lisbon TONIGHT!" f bombs are dropped left and right. people are offering her different seats, as she repplies "no way baby! i need room for my legs to streeaaaaach!!" and the whole time all i can think is, "whyyyyyy did i leave my CHI at home?!"

1/2 an ambien later, welcome to portugal! (30 min. late due to volcanic ash. i´ll blame that one on the volcanic bitch.)

some guy: where are you from?
me: the states.
guy: which one?
me: the best one.
guy: texas??
me: WOOO!!!!!!

you can take the girl outta texas, but you can't take the texas outta the girl!

i have officially changed my mind about any answer i have given to any of your questions. my new answer is, "i dunno."

now that it is clear that the only expectation set is to have no expectations. (well... other than marrying some kind of gorgeous european oil tycon or shipping heir. royal blood works just as well, too.) i'm attempting to leave the lists at home, and more importantly: "go with the flow!" (i will be referring to myself as two different people: the type a erin- crazy. and the type b erin- crazy, but doing a better job at pretending not to be.)

warning to my mom, any grandparents, 12 year old cousins, or any members of the reading audience over 50: sometimes a story is told better with a few 4-letter words. sometimes the subject matter of a story is only acceptable because it takes place in europe. when in rome, right? i promise to do my best to give you a heads up on any post that may alter your angelic perception of me. :)

now for the shout-outs! woo!!! (that's one.)

i am the luckiest little lady in the whole world. i have the most amazing family and friends. i can't believe so many people are supporting me and want to support me. (and when my blog turns into a major motion picture filled with stories of love and adventure starring a super hot a-list actress as myself- we will have a party. and who doesn't love a good party???)

so, lesson # 1: karma.

thank you, thank you, thank you!

i love y'all, i love y'all, i love y'all!

(and not only do i now know what i'm doing buying a one-way ticket to europe, i also have no idea what i'm doing blogging. enjoy!!!)

e.