Hey, a quick note.
My computer lost the entire post I'd written as a follow up on Madrid, so I'm going to rewrite it when I return from Italy.
Have a good weekend.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
MADRID!
Viva Madrid!!
So, about my weekend. Let's begin.
Originally, I was going to go to Malaga with a bunch of my fellow food-abstainers, because there are no synagogues in Granada. Alas, this plan fell through. So with a lack of anything better to do this past weekend, I hit on the idea of going to Madrid with my friend Scott.
Good call.
So we organized our trip in a jiffy, and bright and early on Saturday we trucked off to Madrid via autobus. Now, its a 5 hour ride, but considering that it was Yom Kippur, and I was fasting, I simply took advantage of the opportunity to sleep. Although this meant that I missed seeing most of Castilla de la Mancha (made famous by none other than the most famous of La Mancha's denizens, Don Quixote), I was well rested upon our arrival at precisely 1 o'clock at South Station in Madrid.
First, let me say that Madrid has the 3rd largest subway system in the world, only behind New York's and the Underground. I have never in my entire life come across a system so fantastically complicated as the Madrid Metro. A glance at a system map revealed a network spun not out of reasoned foresight, but out of a maddened desire to cover every inch of the earth with a rail network so no Madrileno would have to suffer the indignity of, God forbid, having to take the bus or *gasp* walk.
It was awesome.
Although everywhere was accessible by subway, it also meant that there were a fair number of redundancies. So, Scott and I each chose our favored path to get to Chamartin station (the location of our hotel, helpfully built into the station itself), and raced. I lost, but only by a few minutes!
We checked in, organized ourselves, and took off. First stop, Plaza de Espana. (At this point, I would like to point your attention to my facebook album of my trip. The whole shebang is narrated more or less chronologically). Madrid is throttled by parks, plazas, trees, and the most stunning 19th century architecture. We wandered our way from the Plaza de Espana, near the overlook of the Temple of Debod, where we could look down on most of the city. We descended, stopping so that Scott could have a quick ice cream break and for me to get some water, because although it was Yom Kippur, I did not want to dehydrate. Sadly, on our way down the hill, we passed by two guys surrounded by garbage taking heroin. Or what I assume to be heroin; generally two dirty people in the middle of a park with syringes sticking out of their arms are not giving each other insulin injections. The addicted seem to be a global underclass, no matter what people may say.
We proceeded over to the Royal Gardens, where I took about an album's worth of pictures. The Gardens are beautiful, but some "right-minded" moron thought it would be a great idea to stuff the most avant garde pieces of statuary he could scour from the post-modern underworld of the city's art galleries. In effect, it was entirely incongrous to see such carefully tended shrubs and classical statues peppered with steel pipes, gigantic red masks, and most hilariously (I have trouble believing this was intentional), a statue of Vladimir Ilich Lenin himself. This was too much for me. I couldn't help but stare at the damn thing. Lenin, the regicide plus ultra, had by either the irreverent joke of some sculptor, or the most blithely unhistorically-minded artista to ever grace our Good Earth found a likeness of himself placed in the garden of a distant relation of the Romanovs. And in case anybody missed the point that this was indeed good ole Vladimir, the bronze casting actually opened to reveal nothing other than a hammer and a sickle. I understand that this is the land of surrealism, but this was a little much. Scott and I then proceeded to go around the Palacio Real (Royal Palace) to the Plaza de Isabel II.
What struck me very quickly was the huge number of monuments dedicated to the various uprisings against authority that had taken place in Madrid, most notably the rising of the 2nd of May, 1808, when the Spanish people rose up spontaneously against the French occupation lead by one of Napoleon's brothers. This was the theme most prevalent throughout the city's many monuments, and I'll need to learn more to fully understand why. I have theories, but they are not within the scope of this post.
Scott and I left the royal environs, and proceeded down the Calle Mayor, which I'll cheerfully translate as Ye Olde Street. Henry, shut up. The Calle Mayor processes along an East-West axis through Madrid, connecting El Paseo del Prado (of the museum's fame) to la Puerta del Sol (Port of the Sun, the city's center), to the Royal Palace and the Royal Theater, among other reliquaries of Imperial Madrid. The Calle Mayor opened upon the Plaza Mayor, which was a really stunning sort of courtyard which was obviously intended to be a central gathering place for people from all over the city. Most fantastically, the facade of the main hall of the Plaza was painted with what I believe to be Renaissance style frescoes, although my brother would know better than I.
Scott and I left the Plaza Mayor, and went across the Puerta del Sol, where we decided to jump on the subway to escape the heat and go to the Parque del Buen Retiro. This is sort of Madrid's central park: it's enormous. It was nice to walk in the shade for a while, but the best part was while we were resting for a few minutes, we saw perhaps one of the coolest sights of the trip: An old man was doing a Snow White impression, birds hovered around him, and would occasionally leap into his hand, peck at the crumbs, and then depart, but always a flock faithfully and patiently followed him. I took some video, but I haven't yet figured out how to put it online.
Scott and I left the park, and wandered through the Salamanca district, which is home to some of the most elegant homes in Madrid. Madrid, in comparison to Granada, is a city home to wide boulevards, and the Salamanca district personified this striving modernity par excellence. This part of the city was founded by the fashionable class at the end of the 19th century, and it retains both a sense of haute bourgeois (of the decidedly Victorian kind; if the Victorians had been diligently Catholic, that is) dignity and at the same time, is definitely reminiscent on a much more subdued scale of the Gold Coast or Fifth Avenue. Alas, the sun was high and we were tired, so we retired to the nearest subway stop, which was fortunately in the center of the district, and took the Metro back to the hotel for a brief half hour siesta.
Alas for our sleep-deprived (and for me, food deprived) selves, our adventure was barely half over. Much more excitement awaited.
Stay tuned, readers, for Madrid Parte Dos a la manana!
So, about my weekend. Let's begin.
Originally, I was going to go to Malaga with a bunch of my fellow food-abstainers, because there are no synagogues in Granada. Alas, this plan fell through. So with a lack of anything better to do this past weekend, I hit on the idea of going to Madrid with my friend Scott.
Good call.
So we organized our trip in a jiffy, and bright and early on Saturday we trucked off to Madrid via autobus. Now, its a 5 hour ride, but considering that it was Yom Kippur, and I was fasting, I simply took advantage of the opportunity to sleep. Although this meant that I missed seeing most of Castilla de la Mancha (made famous by none other than the most famous of La Mancha's denizens, Don Quixote), I was well rested upon our arrival at precisely 1 o'clock at South Station in Madrid.
First, let me say that Madrid has the 3rd largest subway system in the world, only behind New York's and the Underground. I have never in my entire life come across a system so fantastically complicated as the Madrid Metro. A glance at a system map revealed a network spun not out of reasoned foresight, but out of a maddened desire to cover every inch of the earth with a rail network so no Madrileno would have to suffer the indignity of, God forbid, having to take the bus or *gasp* walk.
It was awesome.
Although everywhere was accessible by subway, it also meant that there were a fair number of redundancies. So, Scott and I each chose our favored path to get to Chamartin station (the location of our hotel, helpfully built into the station itself), and raced. I lost, but only by a few minutes!
We checked in, organized ourselves, and took off. First stop, Plaza de Espana. (At this point, I would like to point your attention to my facebook album of my trip. The whole shebang is narrated more or less chronologically). Madrid is throttled by parks, plazas, trees, and the most stunning 19th century architecture. We wandered our way from the Plaza de Espana, near the overlook of the Temple of Debod, where we could look down on most of the city. We descended, stopping so that Scott could have a quick ice cream break and for me to get some water, because although it was Yom Kippur, I did not want to dehydrate. Sadly, on our way down the hill, we passed by two guys surrounded by garbage taking heroin. Or what I assume to be heroin; generally two dirty people in the middle of a park with syringes sticking out of their arms are not giving each other insulin injections. The addicted seem to be a global underclass, no matter what people may say.
We proceeded over to the Royal Gardens, where I took about an album's worth of pictures. The Gardens are beautiful, but some "right-minded" moron thought it would be a great idea to stuff the most avant garde pieces of statuary he could scour from the post-modern underworld of the city's art galleries. In effect, it was entirely incongrous to see such carefully tended shrubs and classical statues peppered with steel pipes, gigantic red masks, and most hilariously (I have trouble believing this was intentional), a statue of Vladimir Ilich Lenin himself. This was too much for me. I couldn't help but stare at the damn thing. Lenin, the regicide plus ultra, had by either the irreverent joke of some sculptor, or the most blithely unhistorically-minded artista to ever grace our Good Earth found a likeness of himself placed in the garden of a distant relation of the Romanovs. And in case anybody missed the point that this was indeed good ole Vladimir, the bronze casting actually opened to reveal nothing other than a hammer and a sickle. I understand that this is the land of surrealism, but this was a little much. Scott and I then proceeded to go around the Palacio Real (Royal Palace) to the Plaza de Isabel II.
What struck me very quickly was the huge number of monuments dedicated to the various uprisings against authority that had taken place in Madrid, most notably the rising of the 2nd of May, 1808, when the Spanish people rose up spontaneously against the French occupation lead by one of Napoleon's brothers. This was the theme most prevalent throughout the city's many monuments, and I'll need to learn more to fully understand why. I have theories, but they are not within the scope of this post.
Scott and I left the royal environs, and proceeded down the Calle Mayor, which I'll cheerfully translate as Ye Olde Street. Henry, shut up. The Calle Mayor processes along an East-West axis through Madrid, connecting El Paseo del Prado (of the museum's fame) to la Puerta del Sol (Port of the Sun, the city's center), to the Royal Palace and the Royal Theater, among other reliquaries of Imperial Madrid. The Calle Mayor opened upon the Plaza Mayor, which was a really stunning sort of courtyard which was obviously intended to be a central gathering place for people from all over the city. Most fantastically, the facade of the main hall of the Plaza was painted with what I believe to be Renaissance style frescoes, although my brother would know better than I.
Scott and I left the Plaza Mayor, and went across the Puerta del Sol, where we decided to jump on the subway to escape the heat and go to the Parque del Buen Retiro. This is sort of Madrid's central park: it's enormous. It was nice to walk in the shade for a while, but the best part was while we were resting for a few minutes, we saw perhaps one of the coolest sights of the trip: An old man was doing a Snow White impression, birds hovered around him, and would occasionally leap into his hand, peck at the crumbs, and then depart, but always a flock faithfully and patiently followed him. I took some video, but I haven't yet figured out how to put it online.
Scott and I left the park, and wandered through the Salamanca district, which is home to some of the most elegant homes in Madrid. Madrid, in comparison to Granada, is a city home to wide boulevards, and the Salamanca district personified this striving modernity par excellence. This part of the city was founded by the fashionable class at the end of the 19th century, and it retains both a sense of haute bourgeois (of the decidedly Victorian kind; if the Victorians had been diligently Catholic, that is) dignity and at the same time, is definitely reminiscent on a much more subdued scale of the Gold Coast or Fifth Avenue. Alas, the sun was high and we were tired, so we retired to the nearest subway stop, which was fortunately in the center of the district, and took the Metro back to the hotel for a brief half hour siesta.
Alas for our sleep-deprived (and for me, food deprived) selves, our adventure was barely half over. Much more excitement awaited.
Stay tuned, readers, for Madrid Parte Dos a la manana!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Pictures
Finally, the pictures you've all been waiting for !
Here's my beautiful, ecstatically jet-lagged face after I finally landed in Madrid. What better way to make friends and influence people than to look like a hungover American?
This is the view from the air. I am not entirely sure why I was awake to take this. At that point, I was on my flight from Madrid to Malaga, and I was bone tired. Thus, this must be from when we are landing. There's a lot of agriculture that is still practiced in Andalucia, but conversely, there is also a terrible draught, especially in Eastern Andalucia where Granada is. When we arrived at the hotel in Malaga, we were advised not to take long showers, use water only when necessary, and keep all appliances turned off when not in use. Certainly, in just paying the basic bills, there's a very different way of looking at consumption here in Spain than at home.
Yet in spite of the drought, Granada's many fountains still beckon. This city was really redone at the end of the 15th century to reflect the ultimate triumph of Spanish monarchy (and Catholicism) over the Moors. So although Granada does not have Paris' wide boulevards, its has many parks, plazas, fountains, and streets dedicated one way or another to the Reconquista. Although if one looks hard enough, one can still see many buildings have retained a vaguely Middle Eastern design. This is most noticeable near the center of the city, but fortunately, the old Muslim quarter has been preserved more or less intact, so the architecture is very reminiscent of Morocco. Or so I am told.
Anyway, to business. I'm going to put up two more pics and then leave the link here on the internet to the main album I assembled on facebook. But don't worry. You don't need facebook to see the album. They designed it that way. Or so I am told.
So voila, two more for the eyes:
The Alhambra, as seen from the top of the hill of the Albaicin, the old Muslim quarter.
And last, but not least, I can't resist showing this photo:
The umbrella fighting scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was shot here! Sweeeeeet. This is the beach in Cabo de Gata, the National Park I mentioned in my previous post. There are more pictures in the album.
The Link to the album.
In short, here's life.
I got sick this past weekend, a 24 hour stomach bug. Once I recovered, it did not stop me from taking a bus to Seville and meeting up with the rest of my program there, who had left on Friday morning. I didn't get to see everything (the cathedral, the palaces, etc.), but I did get to see a European soccer game. I had the best seats with my friends Scott Forman and Lauren Cordova, front row at centerfield. Seville was playing Huelva, a local city not far, and they kicked ass, 4-1. It was pretty cool. I didn't take any pictures of this, but Scott did and he's going to send them to me.
Upon returning, Monday was the first day of classes. So far, not so bad. Compared to my usual schedule, this is rather peaceful. Only Arabic and Spanish require weekly homework of any kind. Finding a math class at the university is proving quite a challenge. The main sticking point is scheduling. Almost all but 3 of the math classes are year round, and of the 3 that aren't, one would be great, but it interferes with my Spanish class, and that's mandatory attendance. One I don't have the prerequisites for. The last is a class on regression models, which would bore me to tears. I'm halfway tempted to try it anyway, because there might be more emphasis put on the technical details than what I saw in Econometrics, but I don't know if I could stomach a 3rd semester in a row of ordinary least squares. The upside is that if I take it, I can drop two of my classes for one. A class at the center is only worth 3 credits, while a university class is worth 6. Thus, it would probably be more work in exchange for fewer classes to worry about, and more free time in my schedule. I don't know if it'll be possible at this point, but I'm going to keep exploring my options.
The last piece of news is that I got a job working at the study abroad center. Its just running errands and such, but its a great opportunity in several ways. One is that its good to have a job during school hours (i.e., I do it between classes), as a way of supplementing my income. Even if it just winds up being 30 euros a week, that'll significantly help my living expenses, especially since I wasn't planning to make any money. Two, is that the pay is good. Its 7 euro/hr, which equals to about $9.80/hr, which is more than I would be currently earning state-side. Three, is that the job is mostly running errands around Granada, which is helping my Spanish immensely. Although I placed into the second most advanced Spanish class, my speaking is still far worse than my writing, understanding, or reading. I can speak grammatically, but very slowly. Hopefully, this will only help improve the situation.
Anyway, that's about all the news that's fit to print. Or at least, as far as I have told.
Here's my beautiful, ecstatically jet-lagged face after I finally landed in Madrid. What better way to make friends and influence people than to look like a hungover American?
This is the view from the air. I am not entirely sure why I was awake to take this. At that point, I was on my flight from Madrid to Malaga, and I was bone tired. Thus, this must be from when we are landing. There's a lot of agriculture that is still practiced in Andalucia, but conversely, there is also a terrible draught, especially in Eastern Andalucia where Granada is. When we arrived at the hotel in Malaga, we were advised not to take long showers, use water only when necessary, and keep all appliances turned off when not in use. Certainly, in just paying the basic bills, there's a very different way of looking at consumption here in Spain than at home.
Yet in spite of the drought, Granada's many fountains still beckon. This city was really redone at the end of the 15th century to reflect the ultimate triumph of Spanish monarchy (and Catholicism) over the Moors. So although Granada does not have Paris' wide boulevards, its has many parks, plazas, fountains, and streets dedicated one way or another to the Reconquista. Although if one looks hard enough, one can still see many buildings have retained a vaguely Middle Eastern design. This is most noticeable near the center of the city, but fortunately, the old Muslim quarter has been preserved more or less intact, so the architecture is very reminiscent of Morocco. Or so I am told.Anyway, to business. I'm going to put up two more pics and then leave the link here on the internet to the main album I assembled on facebook. But don't worry. You don't need facebook to see the album. They designed it that way. Or so I am told.
So voila, two more for the eyes:
The Alhambra, as seen from the top of the hill of the Albaicin, the old Muslim quarter.
And last, but not least, I can't resist showing this photo:
The umbrella fighting scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was shot here! Sweeeeeet. This is the beach in Cabo de Gata, the National Park I mentioned in my previous post. There are more pictures in the album.
The Link to the album.
In short, here's life.
I got sick this past weekend, a 24 hour stomach bug. Once I recovered, it did not stop me from taking a bus to Seville and meeting up with the rest of my program there, who had left on Friday morning. I didn't get to see everything (the cathedral, the palaces, etc.), but I did get to see a European soccer game. I had the best seats with my friends Scott Forman and Lauren Cordova, front row at centerfield. Seville was playing Huelva, a local city not far, and they kicked ass, 4-1. It was pretty cool. I didn't take any pictures of this, but Scott did and he's going to send them to me.
Upon returning, Monday was the first day of classes. So far, not so bad. Compared to my usual schedule, this is rather peaceful. Only Arabic and Spanish require weekly homework of any kind. Finding a math class at the university is proving quite a challenge. The main sticking point is scheduling. Almost all but 3 of the math classes are year round, and of the 3 that aren't, one would be great, but it interferes with my Spanish class, and that's mandatory attendance. One I don't have the prerequisites for. The last is a class on regression models, which would bore me to tears. I'm halfway tempted to try it anyway, because there might be more emphasis put on the technical details than what I saw in Econometrics, but I don't know if I could stomach a 3rd semester in a row of ordinary least squares. The upside is that if I take it, I can drop two of my classes for one. A class at the center is only worth 3 credits, while a university class is worth 6. Thus, it would probably be more work in exchange for fewer classes to worry about, and more free time in my schedule. I don't know if it'll be possible at this point, but I'm going to keep exploring my options.
The last piece of news is that I got a job working at the study abroad center. Its just running errands and such, but its a great opportunity in several ways. One is that its good to have a job during school hours (i.e., I do it between classes), as a way of supplementing my income. Even if it just winds up being 30 euros a week, that'll significantly help my living expenses, especially since I wasn't planning to make any money. Two, is that the pay is good. Its 7 euro/hr, which equals to about $9.80/hr, which is more than I would be currently earning state-side. Three, is that the job is mostly running errands around Granada, which is helping my Spanish immensely. Although I placed into the second most advanced Spanish class, my speaking is still far worse than my writing, understanding, or reading. I can speak grammatically, but very slowly. Hopefully, this will only help improve the situation.
Anyway, that's about all the news that's fit to print. Or at least, as far as I have told.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Alhambra
What an amazing past 3 days.
Currently, I'm waiting for my roommate to get home b/c I'm having a little bit of trouble getting my camera and my computer to cooperate, and he's a bit of a comp whiz. So in the meantime, I write. Although not for long, because my host dad is waiting for me to play FIFA soccer.
On Saturday, we woke up really, really, really early to go to a nature park on the interior Mediterranean coast (a bit south of Murcia and Valencia), called Cabo de Gata. Essentially, its miles and miles of coast and arid mountains, but its very beautiful. In fact, several scenes from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (among other movies) were filmed there. The beaches were stunning, and we did some serious hiking over the hills. The pictures summarize the experience better than any words that I can come up with, but it was a deeply memorable experience.
We were treated to a big dinner at a local pizza restaurant, but we didn't actually return to Granada until 11:30 at night. I was feeling a bit restless, so I wandered my neighborhood for an ice cream cone. Fortunately, I managed to snag one around 1:30 before the place closed.
What I appreciate about Granada so far is that its a small city, which means its very easy to get around, and its safe. In spite of the fact that its not as big as Madrid, for example, there are still plenty of places to go, and plenty of things to do, even into the wee hours of the night.
Sunday, I crashed. Pure and simple. Didn't wake up until 2:30, but then around 8, I went to a little cafe/bar on the Gran Via and had a beer with some friends, we then met up with my host parents and went to their favorite bar not far from where we live. It was called "The Perra Gorda" (The Fat Dog), and it was very punk, but very cool. We played foosball, (won 1, lost 1), and then we finally all traipsed home around 12:30.
So I will wait until my roommate arrives to put up the pictures and tell about the Alhambra.
The Alhambra cannot be explained in words.
Currently, I'm waiting for my roommate to get home b/c I'm having a little bit of trouble getting my camera and my computer to cooperate, and he's a bit of a comp whiz. So in the meantime, I write. Although not for long, because my host dad is waiting for me to play FIFA soccer.
On Saturday, we woke up really, really, really early to go to a nature park on the interior Mediterranean coast (a bit south of Murcia and Valencia), called Cabo de Gata. Essentially, its miles and miles of coast and arid mountains, but its very beautiful. In fact, several scenes from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (among other movies) were filmed there. The beaches were stunning, and we did some serious hiking over the hills. The pictures summarize the experience better than any words that I can come up with, but it was a deeply memorable experience.
We were treated to a big dinner at a local pizza restaurant, but we didn't actually return to Granada until 11:30 at night. I was feeling a bit restless, so I wandered my neighborhood for an ice cream cone. Fortunately, I managed to snag one around 1:30 before the place closed.
What I appreciate about Granada so far is that its a small city, which means its very easy to get around, and its safe. In spite of the fact that its not as big as Madrid, for example, there are still plenty of places to go, and plenty of things to do, even into the wee hours of the night.
Sunday, I crashed. Pure and simple. Didn't wake up until 2:30, but then around 8, I went to a little cafe/bar on the Gran Via and had a beer with some friends, we then met up with my host parents and went to their favorite bar not far from where we live. It was called "The Perra Gorda" (The Fat Dog), and it was very punk, but very cool. We played foosball, (won 1, lost 1), and then we finally all traipsed home around 12:30.
So I will wait until my roommate arrives to put up the pictures and tell about the Alhambra.
The Alhambra cannot be explained in words.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Tengo calor
Its hot here in Granada.
So a follow up. Let me describe to you my "family".
Maria Eugenia and Juan (known as Juanjo), are a young, unmarried couple. They live near the center of town, and only a 10 minute walk from the university. They are very cool. Maria is an architect and Juan is a cook at a hospital. They have a golden retriever named Nana, and Juanjo plays X-Box 360. Last night, after I came home from the bar (more on that in a minute), Juanjo and his friends were playing FIFA soccer on the X-Box 360. They insisted I play with them and it was a lot of fun. I feel very lucky to be living with such people. They are very kind and patient.
Now about the nightlife. Granada has a tradition that if you go to a bar and order a drink (unlike the US, bars in Granada serve drinks of all varieties. Coffee, tea, beer, wine, spirits, fruit juices, and soda.), you get free tapas. Tapas are sort of like mini-appetizers. So if you go cruising bars, you can essentially get a free dinner. Its endemic to Granada only, but its really a good way to eat.
I am really enjoying myself here so far, but I am being careful not to get too carried away. We were warned repeatedly that there is often a period of depression after the first week or so, so I don't want to fall too hard or too fast if and when that happens.
Pictures coming this weekend. Stay tuned!
So a follow up. Let me describe to you my "family".
Maria Eugenia and Juan (known as Juanjo), are a young, unmarried couple. They live near the center of town, and only a 10 minute walk from the university. They are very cool. Maria is an architect and Juan is a cook at a hospital. They have a golden retriever named Nana, and Juanjo plays X-Box 360. Last night, after I came home from the bar (more on that in a minute), Juanjo and his friends were playing FIFA soccer on the X-Box 360. They insisted I play with them and it was a lot of fun. I feel very lucky to be living with such people. They are very kind and patient.
Now about the nightlife. Granada has a tradition that if you go to a bar and order a drink (unlike the US, bars in Granada serve drinks of all varieties. Coffee, tea, beer, wine, spirits, fruit juices, and soda.), you get free tapas. Tapas are sort of like mini-appetizers. So if you go cruising bars, you can essentially get a free dinner. Its endemic to Granada only, but its really a good way to eat.
I am really enjoying myself here so far, but I am being careful not to get too carried away. We were warned repeatedly that there is often a period of depression after the first week or so, so I don't want to fall too hard or too fast if and when that happens.
Pictures coming this weekend. Stay tuned!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Jet-lagggggggggg
I am jet lagged. And it sucks.
But before we get to why I am here, in Granada eating a ham and cheese sandwich and watching an old episode of lost in Spanish. (in case you were wondering, the Australian-Spanish accent does not exist. Or rather, it does not exist well.)
My flights here were more or less uneventful, if a bit convoluted. I flew from Cincinnati to Chicago on Monday at 1:35. I then flew from O'Hare to Heathrow at 4:40 Central Standard Time. It was a really nice flight, and I had a nice, long conversation with a friendly woman from Colorado. She is planning to move to Croatia, so we chit-chatted about the U.S. versus Europe.
Unfortunately, I arrived at Heathrow at 6:00 GMT, which meant that it was 1:00 am EST. So when I would normally be going to bed, I was instead having to travel across Heathrow to get to my gate to go to Madrid. Fortunately, security was efficient, and I found time to first buy a bottle of Jack Daniel's finest for my host family in the duty free. I bought it in euros, but they gave me change in pounds, so I went to a little faux french cafe and settled what I suppose was a case of late night munchies masquerading as breakfast. The croissant was excellent.
I boarded the flight to Madrid at GMT 8:40 and arrived at Madrid-Barajas at noon, about 20 minutes later than scheduled, but I didn't mind because it gave me time to sleep, if only 2 hours. Madrid, for the record, is GMT +1, meaning it is officially 6 hours ahead of you guys back in Cincinnati and Boston.
Madrid-Barajas is perhaps the coolest airport I have ever been in. Very modern, very clean, very well organized. Following my intuition, I was able to get to the check-in counter for my flight to Malaga in good order, and with 4 hours to go.
Unfortunately for my potential enjoyment of Madrid, I was still deeply rooted in EST and my layover in Madrid was prime sleeping hours for yours truly. I couldn't very well take a nap for fear of being robbed blind, so I had to find ways of keeping awake. I paid 2 euros to e-mail Mom, Dad, Katherine, Henry, and Marina. I bought a small lunch. I read the European edition of the WSJ. But I still struggled to stay awake. I got a merciful hour of sleep between Malaga and Madrid, but all the same, when I arrived at the hotel around 7:30, I could barely think straight.
I took a very long, very welcome shower, got changed, and sent an e-mail before bed. Just before I was about to get ready to go to sleep (hungry), I got a call on my room phone from a fellow Brandeisian asking if I wanted to get some food. I agreed, because I didn't really want to miss a chance to see Malaga, and thought that getting some food would make up for the passing up on the sleep.
Well, the food was good, but it was expensive. And I was too tired to really make conversation. So I finally found a way to leave and I finally, finally got some sleep, around 11 local time.
Unfortunately, 9 hrs of sleep has not cured my jet lag. And today hasn't helped. We sat through 6 hours of orientation and lunch was uninspired. We arrived in Granada around 7, and I got picked up by my temporary home stay family at 8.
I will describe them more in detail in a follow up post tomorrow.
This one has been pretty factual, so I'll give a better sense of the details when I've shaken off some of this jet lag.
But before we get to why I am here, in Granada eating a ham and cheese sandwich and watching an old episode of lost in Spanish. (in case you were wondering, the Australian-Spanish accent does not exist. Or rather, it does not exist well.)
My flights here were more or less uneventful, if a bit convoluted. I flew from Cincinnati to Chicago on Monday at 1:35. I then flew from O'Hare to Heathrow at 4:40 Central Standard Time. It was a really nice flight, and I had a nice, long conversation with a friendly woman from Colorado. She is planning to move to Croatia, so we chit-chatted about the U.S. versus Europe.
Unfortunately, I arrived at Heathrow at 6:00 GMT, which meant that it was 1:00 am EST. So when I would normally be going to bed, I was instead having to travel across Heathrow to get to my gate to go to Madrid. Fortunately, security was efficient, and I found time to first buy a bottle of Jack Daniel's finest for my host family in the duty free. I bought it in euros, but they gave me change in pounds, so I went to a little faux french cafe and settled what I suppose was a case of late night munchies masquerading as breakfast. The croissant was excellent.
I boarded the flight to Madrid at GMT 8:40 and arrived at Madrid-Barajas at noon, about 20 minutes later than scheduled, but I didn't mind because it gave me time to sleep, if only 2 hours. Madrid, for the record, is GMT +1, meaning it is officially 6 hours ahead of you guys back in Cincinnati and Boston.
Madrid-Barajas is perhaps the coolest airport I have ever been in. Very modern, very clean, very well organized. Following my intuition, I was able to get to the check-in counter for my flight to Malaga in good order, and with 4 hours to go.
Unfortunately for my potential enjoyment of Madrid, I was still deeply rooted in EST and my layover in Madrid was prime sleeping hours for yours truly. I couldn't very well take a nap for fear of being robbed blind, so I had to find ways of keeping awake. I paid 2 euros to e-mail Mom, Dad, Katherine, Henry, and Marina. I bought a small lunch. I read the European edition of the WSJ. But I still struggled to stay awake. I got a merciful hour of sleep between Malaga and Madrid, but all the same, when I arrived at the hotel around 7:30, I could barely think straight.
I took a very long, very welcome shower, got changed, and sent an e-mail before bed. Just before I was about to get ready to go to sleep (hungry), I got a call on my room phone from a fellow Brandeisian asking if I wanted to get some food. I agreed, because I didn't really want to miss a chance to see Malaga, and thought that getting some food would make up for the passing up on the sleep.
Well, the food was good, but it was expensive. And I was too tired to really make conversation. So I finally found a way to leave and I finally, finally got some sleep, around 11 local time.
Unfortunately, 9 hrs of sleep has not cured my jet lag. And today hasn't helped. We sat through 6 hours of orientation and lunch was uninspired. We arrived in Granada around 7, and I got picked up by my temporary home stay family at 8.
I will describe them more in detail in a follow up post tomorrow.
This one has been pretty factual, so I'll give a better sense of the details when I've shaken off some of this jet lag.
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