10 Minutos!

Eight people, two dogs, a secret cueva and negative 5° weather made for a memorable weekend backpacking in the Sierra Nevada mountains (in Spain, that is).

It was my first ever overnight backpacking trip and it was incredible. I went with a group of Spanish people, most of whom I barely knew, along with my American friend Suzanne. I already knew Alberto and David, but I met Carlos, Tomás, Antonio, and Fátima the day we left. Carlos and Tomás brought their dogs Nero and Charli. The trip was completely spontaneous--we decided to go at 20:00 the night before. I had never done a hiking trip like this before, but I felt pretty confident that I would be safe given that two people are regular backpackers and two are training to be firemen. Fátima is a pharmacist too (similar to a nurse in America). I knew that I would never have this opportunity again.

I packed the warmest clothes I had in preparation for the predicted -3° weather Saturday night and was ready to go. We left at 8:30am (practically the middle of the night in Spain) and started hiking. The first hour was the most difficult. It was uphill and hot, and Suzanne and I thought we might not make it to the end. We all got to know each other as we hiked, and Suzanne and I talked about how it's a certain type of person that likes to do this sort of trip. Her roommate Inma, for example, had no interest in the hiking trip to the Sierra Nevada. Inma is still studying at the age of 30 to get her bachelors degree. She's has never travelled outside of Andalucía and still doesn't know what she wants to do. On the other hand, everyone on the trip with us was very well-travelled, well-educated and very open-minded. They all had learned to speak English fairly well and were interested in improving. In Spanish, I would call them "aventureros," which translates roughly as "adventurous ones." It was fun spending the weekend with Spaniards. Speaking Spanish with locals is always an exciting endeavor.

By 13:00, Suzanne and I were starving and we asked, "Papá Antonio--Cuánto queda?" It was a fair question to be asking of the only person who had actually done the hike before. He responded, "10 minutes!" and we kept walking. This became the running joke of the trip. These 10 minutos magically turned into 2 hours of planning our next two stops: almuerzo (lunch) and la cueva (the cave). For the rest of the hike that day, we would ask Antonio how much time was left, and every time his response was "10 minutos." Had 10 minutes been the true answer, we never would have seen the cueva and las montañas, or made it to the Refugio.  We were exhausted when we stopped for comida by a small river around 15:30.We all enjoyed a little R&R, eating our bocadillas de tortilla.

After lunch, we started the hike toward some secret cave. This was a true cave--pitch black, damp, and scary as all hell. Suzanne refused to go in, so just Carlos, Antonio, Fátima and I went. Inside, I took pictures about every 20 feet just so I could see through the camera what was in front of me. The cave got narrower as we walked along, and soon we were ducking and running our hands along the walls to feel our way through the cave. The most terrifying part of the cave experience was looking at one of my pictures and seeing hundreds of bats clinging to the walls. Needless to say, we survived the cave and kept on trekking.

There are places called refugios along the hiking trails in the Sierra Nevada where hikers can camp overnight. They are generally big stone buildings with dirt floors and sometimes a few wooden bunk beds. There is usually an outdoor faucet of freezing cold, clean water used to brush your teeth and fill up your water bottle. We reached our refugio at dusk. Outside were two beautiful horses that belonged to the owner. We were eight people with two dogs staying in a room meant for four people.

After dropping out stuff off inside, we ate our bocadillos around a camp fire. After dark, the owner asked us to put out the fire, so we cozied up inside the room around flashlights. We played games and told stories until we fell asleep. That night was one of the worst nights of sleep I've ever had. There were four people on the top bunk on a hard, wooden bed. David was sick and had a high fever. He was miserable all night, and so were the rest of us. I got out of bed around 4:00am in the pitch dark and waited for everyone else to get up. We started to head back toward the city around 7:00am. When we finally made it back to the starting point, we all collapsed on the ground. Some of us ate the food we had left and some of us slept while we mustered up the energy to walk to the car and drive home. What an extraordinary weekend.

The Art of Doing Nothing: Part 1

Unlike most Americans, Spaniards are excellent at simply "doing nothing," as most Europeans are. All of Spain, including Borja and I, spent the last few days of our trip recovering from the New Years festivities and doing--what many would define--nothing. In all fairness, we did take two day trips outside of Sevilla, but we didn't leave for either until around 11:00am.

I spent New Years morning wandering around Sevilla while the rest of Spain was still asleep. I had breakfast in the Parque Maria Luisa--one of the only bars open that morning--and then spent the day walking around Sevilla without the slightest idea of where I was at any given moment. It was glorious.

La Catedral y la Giralda

A small callejon I found wandering around Sevilla

On the 2nd, Borja's parents and I took a day trip to Aracena. We toured the Cuevas de Gruta de las Maravillas--caves that look like they could have been in "Pirates of the Carribean." They were thousands of years old and still perfectly intact.

After the tour, Borja's dad took us to eat in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere (usually where the best restaurants are and restaurants only locals would ever know about). It took about 30 minutes driving off the main road down a narrow, windy road to get there. The town probably had a population of about 500, if that. It was all white, had a tiny plaza, a church, houses, and about 3 restaurants. It reminded me of Dilar--the town I taught English in while living in Granada. Places like this are why I love Spain. They are so traditional and "local" that you wish you could live there for a few day if only to absorb such a beautiful life--one consisting of "doing nothing" and knowing how to appreciate the art of it all.

The restaurant (of which I will never remember the name) was a typical Spanish restaurant in the campo serving traditional Spanish food. There were maybe 8 tables in total and each one was filled with the locals. Borja's dad being a foodie, I knew that the food would be beyond divine. For the four of us, we opted for a 7 "course" (or 7 dish) meal. The food was absolutely fabulous. We started with migas and orejas de cerdo (pigs ears), then had croquetas de setas and garbanzos, and finally a revuelto de esparragos and carne con papitas. For dessert--paster de nueces (a chocolate almond cake) and crema de yogur (an amazing yogurt parfait-type dessert, only ten times better). On the way back to Sevilla, we stopped back in Aracena and went to a pasteleria to buy pan de cielo and many more sweets (as if we hadn't had enough food already!).

Orejas de Cerdo

Migas

Croquetas de Seta y Garbanzos

Revuelto de Esparragos con Jamon

That afternoon we met Javi at Aljibe for a few drinks and then headed back home to play set and watch a movie. What a great two days of enjoying the Spanish talent and art of doing nothing.

Feliz Ano

We came home from Granada on New Years Eve--a big deal in Spain. But first we had comida and I learned how to make paella from Borja's dad. I can't wait to try out the recipe at home. We ate doing "lo tipico"--good food, good conversation, and, in hte Alarcon household, scratchies.


After comida we went to meet Marijuan and Marino--two of Borja's best friends--for a cafe at el Avelino. I loved hanging out with them and again, doing what is typical for a Spanish afternoon--sitting at a bar and just talking. When the bar closed, we went to the pasteleria Dulces Artesanias around the corner from Borja's house which has been there since he was little. We met up with Javi and then went to a bar and played billiard (the British version).

Marijuan, Borja, and Pablo

Two of Borja's best friends--Javi and Pablo

For New Years Eve dinner we went to Tia Maria Teresa's house. I don't know any other way to describe her than a typical senora espanola--sophisticated, confident, and bold with impeccable taste in both food and decoration. She lives in a gorgeous house, still decorated for Christmas of course. A traditional Spanish New Years Eve is good food (and I mean Thanksgiving style), family, the eating of the grapes, and party. Check, check. check, and check. I had my first real Spanish New Years and it couldn't have been better.

The appetizers alone were enough to feed 20, and we were only 7. It was the four of us plus Maria Teresa, her daughter, and Santi's brother Luis. When we arrived, the appetizers were already on the table and more were being made in the kitchen. Santi and Luis were in charge of the gambas (yes, shrimp complete with head and tail), and Maria Teresa's daughter was making the mojopicon for later. We ate and ate until we couldn't eat anymore. They came the main course--sopa, patatas, and a sweetened turkey typical of New Years Eve dinner. When we finished eating, we were 20 minutes away from the New Year.

Santi and his brother Luis

Las Gambas!

Borja and Tia Maria Teresa

Before eating the graps

We quickly peeled our grapes (and for the first time in 24 years Borja peeled his own!), turned on the t.v., and waited. In Spain, the ball drops in the Puerta del Sol in Madrid. THe clock strikes 12:00 and shortly afterward, there are 12 more chimes. On each bell, you supposed to eat a grape and it is said to bring good luck for the coming year if you finish all 12 grapes on the chimes. Eating the grapes was a very serious, intense 12 seconds. Everyone was dead silent and completely focused on eating their 12 grapes. We poured the champagne and toasted "Feliz Ano." For dessert there was chocolate and pan del cielo.

Las uvas peladas

De Tapeo en Granada

On the 29th Borja and I drove the 2 1/2 hours to Granada--"home" for me. We parked the car in the garage at the Plaza Isabel Catolica, checked into the Hotel Montecarlo, and spent almost the entire afternoon yendo de tapas, which is what Granada is really about.

We met my friend Inma and her friend Quique at a hidden bar near C/ Navas for a few tinto de veranos and very typical Granada style tapas. We left the bar around 5:00 and walked up to the Mirador San Nicolas for sunset and Borja's first look at the Alhambra. It felt so normal hanging out with Inma again (and of course soaking up every second of the "Granaino" accent!). On the way back to the centro we stopped on C/ Elvira for a tapa at La Antigualla. The first tapa was exactly the same as it was 2 years ago--un sandwich mixto con papitas.

Welcome to tapas in Granada

Inma and I at the first tapas bar

Pictures from the Mirador San Nicolas

We walked to Inma's car and drove to our favorite zona for tapas--Pedro Antonio. The area around Pedros Antonio is the student barrio, which means the tapas are enormous and the bebidas are inexpensive. Everything was the same--all of out favorite bars were still there and many more. It was as if I had never left. We passed by the new La Juliana and stopped at one of my favorite tapas bars where my friends and I were regulars--el Peruano. We then went to Sonora, also one of our "regular" bars and played a game of futbolin. Inma, as usual, wanted to salir de marcha (i.e. stay out ALL night partying), but we headed back to the hotel around 1:00am.

The next morning I let Borja sleep in while I enjoyed a typical morning in Granada for me. I had my napolitana de chocolate and cofe con leche for breakfast at El Tren (one of my favorite cafes). I went to Mercadona to buy some turron and then I spent the morning shopping. I love shopping in Spain. I went to all of my favorite stores--Zara, Mango, and Sfera--and had a very successful shopping trip. I then went back to the hotel to wake Borja up. We walked around the centro for a bit, went by the Plaza Bib Rambla, and passed by Paz's (my Spanish roommate from when I lived in Granada) new store in the Plaza Trinidad. I showed Borja my favorite asador, the fruteria and carniceria where I used to buy my fruit and meat, and where I used to live. I love showing people around places that I know well--it makes me feel like I belong in more than one place in the world.

Breakfast at El Tren

Walking around Granada

For comida we went to two must-go-to bars while in Granada. The first bar we went to was Los Diamantes on C/ Navas. Los Diamantes is a tapas bar famous for pescado (fish). If you don't get there by 1:30, you have no chance of even getting in the door, let alone getting a spot at the bar or a table. You know this bar is good because is has no official opening and closing hours. The bar closes when they run out of fish. There are 2 Diamentes owned by the same people and the first is usually packed. We ended up at the second one and had gambas al ajillo and paella for our tapas. I love hoe people in Spain randomly make friends with each other in bars. We asked to share a table with a few older men who ended up being catedraticos ingleses.

After Diamantes we went to what is possibly my favorite tapas bar in all Granada, if not all of Spain. This tapas bar is as Granadino as you will find and the people who own it couldn't be nicer. This is the kind of bar that fills up with locals when there is a Real Madrid vs. Barca futbol match, or even a Granada game. At 10:00am on any given day this bar is full of older Spanish men drinking cerveza and having intense conversation (usually about futbol). The tapas at Las Delicias are to die for, literally. I'm not kidding--if I could choose my last meal on earth, I would choose to have the first, second, and third tapas at Delicias. Our first tap was a mouth-watering seafood paella and our second was migas. Had we not already eaten at Diamantes, I'm sure we would have stayed for the third and maybe fourth tapas even if only out of sheer curiosity.

The first tapa at Las Delicias

Borja and I eating our 2nd tapa at Delicias--migas

After a beyond satisfying experience at Delicias, we headed up to the Alhambra--the most amazing (for lack of a better word) monument I have ever visited in all of my travels. The Alhambra is one of those monuments that you never get tired of seeing and never get tired of showing others. It was Borja's first time seeing the Alhambra and needless to say he was impressed. We have a knack for seeing monuments when the lighting is just right too. By the time we reached my favorite picture-taking spot of the Alhambra, the Albayzin (the neighborhood that the Alhambra overlooks) was orange from the reflection of the sun on the collection of white houses. It was illuminating.

A picture at my favorite garden in the Alhambra

The reflections are amazing

The Albayzin at sunset

After visiting the Alhambra we walked back through the Plaza Bib Rambla to people watch a little before meeting Paz at La Bodega. Now, I have no idea what La Bodega's true name is. All I know is that everyone knows it by "Bodega," it's the only actual destination on C/ Jardines, and that if you don't get there before 9:00pm, you won't get in the door. The owners aren't very nice unfortunately, but the food and the tapas are excellent. They specialize in food from the north and if you order white wine, it comes in a frozen jarra in the shape of a pig. We met Paz there for our last night of tapas. It was so wonderful to see her again and catch up after a year and half of being gone. I felt so "grown up" meeting up with a good friend in a city in which neither of us currently live. I'm not sure why. After saying "hasta luego" to Paz, Borja and I had our last tapa together in Granada at the bar I can never remember the name of (the first bar on the right on C/ Navas).

Pulpo a la Gallega (octopus) at Bodega

Paz and I

Before driving driving back to Sevilla, we went to breakfast at La Ysla for a napolitana, a pionono (a typical pastry of Granada), and a cafe con leche. Our first vacation without parents was unforgettable to say the least.

Piononos at La Ysla

It's the Little Things...

I have been in Spain for five and a half day and I have never felt more at home. Everyone I see asks me what I have seen and done so far--what monuments I've seen, what cultural events I've been too, etc. As much as I love to travel for the famous landmarks in a city, I have found that it's the little things that make a trip magical and leaving you wanting to return.

There is nothing like a good plane ride to start off a trip. On the way to Spain this time around I sat next to a woman from the Bay Area who was going to Spain for a family reunion. She grew up in Mexico, used to be a teacher, and happened to be going to Granada as the first stop of the reunion. We talked for almost 3 hours before both of us fell asleep.

Something so small and simple still makes me smile every time I come to Spain, and that is being able to communicate. I love knowing that I can speak to anyone and everyone without hessitation, and I still love it when people are surprised that I can speak Spanish (and more importantly, andaluz). I took the AVE from Madrid to Sevilla and ordered a cafe con leche and a napolitana at the train station cafe while waiting for my train.

I arrived in Sevilla around 20:00 and Borja picked me up. We went back to his house and when his parents got home from work, I took out the chocolate chip cookies I made (which do not exist in Spain). I originally made them for Borja's cousin Alfonso, but who was I kidding? They never made it to Alfonso of course. It took all of 5 minutes for Borja's family and I to eat them all. We sat in the salon and just talked for a few hours before going to sleep. We didn't turn on the t.v., and there was no music in the background. We simply talked and enjoyed good company and good conversation. i love this about Spain. I feel so lucky to be welcomed into Borja's home for these 11 days, but that is how the Spanish are.

When I woke up the next morning at what is considered an ungodly hour in Spain (8:00am), Borja's dad Santi asked me, "Pero que haces levantado tan temprano?" (What are you doing up so early?) with a surprised look onn his face. Only in Spain do people ask this question before 10:00am.

For breakfast that morning we went to el Bar Metropolis--the local family bar that really is the family bar. After eating my first of many tostada and cafe con leche, we walked around Borja's neighborhood a bit. We walked past the futbol stadium, where Borja went to school, and then walked down the Avenida de las Palmeras. The Avenida is lined with orange trees. In Andalucia, and especially in Sevilla, orange trees can be found almost everywhere, and the smell reminds me so much of Granada. We went to the Parque de las Palomas (Parque Maria Luisa) and bought some seeds to feed the pigeons along with all of the families out and about. We went into the Museo de Arte y Culturas which is located in a gorgeous building across from the Parque Maria Luisa.

A typical Sevillano breakfast--tostadas con zumo y cafe con leche.


Feeding the pigeons in Parque de las Palomas

On the way back home, we passed the Bar Metropolis again and we we ran into almost half of Borja's family (I'm not exaggerating) at the Bar Metropolis. Borja's Tia Maria Pepa, her daughter Patricia, her kids Manolo and Esteban, and another aunt were sitting outside having some wine and tapas. We sat down with them for a while and enjoyed the conversation. Maria Pepa is such a typical Spanish woman, and I love her. She has declared Bar Metropolis "mi bar," and with good reason. While we were sitting there, at least 8 different people walked by that she knew. Four of these eight people were more family members--cousins, aunts, and more.

Family at Bar Metropolis--Borja, Tia Maria Pepa, Tia Mariam, una prima, Partricia, and Esteban

Something that is also in Spain is comida and all of the tradition that comes with it. Comida, or lunch time, in Spain is one of my favorite traditions--a "little thing" that I couldn't appreciate more. Around 2:00 or 3:00pm,, everything except for bars and restaurants closes in Spain. People come home from work and kids come home from school for la comida and siesta. Borja's parents came home from work around 2:30 and we had pollo, ensaladilla rusa, pan, and zumo de naranja. For dessert, turron. Once again, we sat for bit in the salon (with blankets of course) just talking.

After comida, borja and I went into the centro on his moto (how European!) and stopped for a drink at a bar next to the Rio Guadalquivir. There is nothing like a tinto de verano by the river under the sun in December in Sevilla. We sat and people watched for almost two hours, commenting on how kids dress so formally here in Spain, and eves dropping on conversations around us and paying close attention to peoples accents, loving the andalucian accents we here.

Enjoying a tinto de verano by the Rio Guadalquivir

Walking in the centro in Spain this time of year is fun for many reasons, one being that everything is decorated for Christmas and Reyes. There are lights down every street and belenes (Nativity scenes) on display everywhere. We walked around enjoying the atmosphere and the monuments like the Catedral and Giralda. We then met Borja's sister Cristina and her friends for a drink and stopped for a tapa on the way home. We went to a local bar that Borja grew up going to called El Avelino and had pintxos de cerdo and pechuga con bechamel for tapas. We headed home, talked until around 1:00am and then went to sleep. My first day in Spain couldn't have been more perfect or more "Spanish."

La Giralda at sunset

The centro decorated for Christmas and Reyes

This Christmas

In the travel section of the Mercury News this morning, there was an article about Christmas in Barcelona. Although I am not a huge fan of the city, the writer stated one of the biggest truths I have come to know in life--”Like so many things in life...Christmas is better in Spain.” That being said, I am off to Spain for a little over ten days tomorrow to spend some time with my boyfriend and family in Sevilla. After a bit of a nontraditional Christmas season here in the United States, I am ready for some much needed (although I’m not sure deserved) R&R and very much looking forward to the “many things in life” that are simply better in Spain.

This Christmas has been unconventional to say the least in the DeBarr house. Losing both of my grandparents this year meant no Patterson family Christmas on Christmas Eve, and having never experienced a Christmas Eve without my mom’s side of the family, I must say that I miss it already. Yesterday wasn’t quite the same. We didn’t go to midnight mass, there was no Christmas grace said by my mom at Christmas Eve dinner, and we didn’t take turns wearing Carlos’ annual Christmas hat. We didn’t dish up my grandmother’s plate for her and we didn’t have any chocolate truffles for dessert--my Grandpa’s favorite. However, this is not to say that unconventional is bad. We went to 6:00pm mass instead of midnight mass, had lasagna for Christmas Eve dinner instead of turkey, and still watched “The Santa Clause” before going to sleep.

Unconventional, I’ve decided, is just new and different. This Christmas for us is about celebrating old traditions and creating new ones--remembering the loved ones we have lost along the way and knowing how lucky we are to have all of the family that we do. Christmas is about much more than gifts and traditions--it’ about family and love, and cherishing both as though nothing else mattered in the world. This Christmas season, I will stay “present.” I will appreciate all that have with grace and action, and hold the memories of those that are no longer here deep in my heart. Love the people who are near and far, living and deceased, and love in action.

I am off to Spain tomorrow morning and will be blogging from there. I am more excited than ever to go back “home” for the first time in over a year. This will be a trip full of family, food, adventure, and love, and I can’t wait. I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas of the expected food and family, and little unexpected fun and love. For now, I’ll say “hasta pronto y Feliz Navidad.”

With love,
Kel

Resolution Re-dos

Today is Fat Tuesday—a day that, in my opinion, was actually made for breaking all of our New Year’s resolutions in one day. It is the one day of the year that we (Catholics, Christian’s, and anyone else who pretends to be) have an excuse to eat/do anything and everything we so choose. Because let’s face it—most of our New Year’s resolutions have to do with dieting, weight loss, and exercise. So today is the day we are given permission by God himself to break those resolutions in preparation for a fresh start tomorrow—Ash Wednesday (aka: the resolution re-do day).

59 days after making my New Year’s resolutions I will admit that I have not been 100 % faithful in my commitment to them. No, I have not gone to mass every single Sunday since promising myself I would on January 9^th, but I love going to mass with my grandparents when I do get to go (even if it means waking up at 6:30am on a Sunday morning. No, I haven’t been running, swimming or doing yoga as much as I would like to, but I make sure to keep all of these activities a part of my routine in some way. I run on average 2-3 times a week, I swim about 2 or 3 times a week (minus a few weeks of not swimming at all), and I consistently go to yoga every Monday night.

I have been only partially committed to what I wanted to be completely committed. But how many people actually fully commit to their resolution every single day of the year? I’m betting not many. If we did, I fear we would miss out on some very important and necessary moments throughout the year. For this reason alone, I am not upset with nor disappointed in myself for breaking my resolutions every once in a while, because I believe that every time I have failed to meet my expectation (for lack of a better word) a good memory was created without any guilt associated with it.

Each time I have missing swimming or running or mass, it has been for something important in the moment. I’ve gotten to spend lots of time with my 3 month old niece and watch her grow bigger almost every week. I have also gotten to spend time with good friends from college. I got to spend a fantastic weekend in San Diego with my best friend, who I would normally only see 3 or 4 times a year. I’ve had the opportunity to babysit all of my favorite kids. And finally, I’ve have the wonderful opportunity to coach swimming for Mitty. I love what I don’t miss because of the few times I give up my commitment to my resolutions, if that makes sense.

So, in the spirit of Lent, I am not only hoping to re-do my New Year’s Resolutions, but I will also be giving up sweets for the next 40 days. I have also believed that you are not only supposed to give up something during Lent, but also add something to your life—do something extra. For myself and for others, I am going to start volunteering at a hospital. Since high school, I feel as though I’ve lost touch with reading out to those in need, and I hope to help for the next 40 days and beyond in any way I can. Enjoy your resolution re-dos, everyone!