On the Edge of a Cliff

After buying quinoa a few months ago and asking for advice on how to cook it on Facebook (thanks for the responses everyone), I finally made it tonight. I cooked it with spinach and chicken broth amongst other things (and it's a Weight Watchers recipe for only 1 point per serving.) Although I am super late on the quinoa wagon, I recommend it.

I was listening to Shed Seven while cooking. Back in high school, I used to listen to the radio show "Rock Over London" on W-DRE (RIP) every Sunday night (same night as the ska show "One Step Beyond" - anyone remember that?) I just told Dave about how I used to listen/record the show every week and then make mixed tapes of the songs that I liked. I had one live song which for some reason I didn't have the name/artist of. Years later after the show had gone off the air, I had a flashback about it and decided to do some pre-Google internet searching. Although no results came up for the lyrics, I managed to track down the DJ. So I emailed him asking about the song - the only thing I could tell him was that it was live, and that he'd also played Tasmin Archer on that same show. The DJ had saved all of his playlists and found the song for me!

Have some Going for Gold:
Going For Gold by Shed Seven
Keep in mind I was enquiring about a live version with an orchestra. PS, I still have that tape in my parents' house.

I may as well finish off my Spain trip recap even though I just posted a bunch of the photos on Facebook (it's also a procrastination Sunday.)

On the second Saturday of the trip, Dave and I left Los Alcazares and took the coastal route to our next destination. We picked Nerja to end our travels for two reasons - the first was that Kay, our tour guide from Malaga, had recommended it. Secondly, Kristine had told me that this was the town that she and Travis had stayed at (when I got back I told her I went there based on her recommendation - turns out that she actually went to a place called Nijjar, not Nerja...whoops.) It was a happy accident in any case.

The sea and mountain views on the drive were breathtaking. Also breathtaking (literally) were all of the extremely narrow viaducts that we had to drive over to get there.

Upon arrival (and once again confronting another 90 degree twisty hotel garage) we headed into the main part of town. Nerja is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. It had a typical European feel, but really stood out against anything similar from recent memory. There was a circular look-out point in the town that had amazing views of the water and mountains.

Main street leading to the look-out point

View to the right

View to the left

Bonus Photo: View from our hotel balcony

We stuffed ourselves with the biggest pieces of schnitzel I've ever seen (we had olives first so that counts as the Spanish portion of the meal), and got a drink in the evening at the trendy rooftop Buddha Bar. There were heladerias everywhere (that's iced cream shop to you) so I opted to get a flavor called "Chocolate Africa"??

Giant palm

More auto-setting camera action

The next morning we grabbed some breakfast at the hotel buffet (sadly there was no chocolate cake on offer) and headed to the local beach. The waves were a bit rough so Dave went in for just a bit while I laid under a wooden umbrella.

Old Young Man and the Sea

While sitting in the main square for lunch, a proper race started around us. The first group were adult speedwalkers - they weren't allowed to have both feet off of the ground at any point, which was pretty hilarious. After their three laps around the town center, we thought that was the end of the race, until kids of about 8-10 years old started running. I thought this was probably the cutest thing I'd ever seen until the next race was all 5 year olds! Cute overload.

We walked to more viewpoints after lunch.

Crystal clear waters

I think this is a King. He obviously had no interest in me (maybe because I had my Majorca bag with me and not a Nerja one.)More views

Atop the winding walkway

Little cave

The top left is the main lookout point

BeforeDuringAfter

(Those rocks were extremely painful, just for the record)

After watching some bullfighting back at the hotel, we headed into town again for dinner. Our meal included a pitcher of sangria, and we got to take the jug home as a souvenir. I cushioned it in my squishy, round travel pillow in my carry-on on the way home, and now it's sitting on top of our fridge, so come on over if you want us to make you some sangria in a pretty jug.

Sangria Champion

Dave getting his Mexican on in Spain

The final auto-setting shot

On the last day of our trip we headed to the hotel breakfast at about 6:30 am, before it was officially open. We had signed our names on a list to do this the day before, but we were literally the only people there - not even staff were present. After feeling like Goldilocks, and leaving our table a slight mess for the other patrons, we got in the car to start our journey back to the Malaga airport. This was actually the craziest part of the trip. As you may have read from my previous entries, we had some driving issues in Spain (in basically every place we'd gone to.) Nerja was no exception. So, we got in the car and set off. I thought the drive out of Nerja would be extremely straightforward (it was literally one long road with some roundabouts on the way in.) About a minute after leaving the hotel, the GPS gave us a direction we didn't think was right but figured was a shortcut so we took it. After going down a small hill, we drove down a 40 KM/hour one-lane road (with no sign saying which way to go), in complete darkness except for our headlights. We reached the end of the road which turned to gravel and we suddenly we were at the edge of a cliff over the Mediterranean!! Granted, the cliff was only about 5 feet high, and luckily we weren't going the full 40 KPH, but had we, we certainly would have driven over the edge. Thankfully there were two of us so I was able to get out and carefully direct Dave to make a K-turn, but that certainly shook me up.

To make matters worse, I got a copy of the Daily Mail at the airport which had an article about two men in Spain who had followed their GPS while driving in the dark and actually drove their car (the same kind as ours) into a reservoir and the driver died. This happened the night before. Is Spain trying to sabotage tourists, or what?? Here's the article.

Adios Espana

Current Music: White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground

Gonna Ride My Bike Until I Get Home

In continuing our trip, we decided it would be best to leave Granada in the morning when it was still dark to avoid traffic in the confusing streets. We drove out of the hotel garage down the tiny one way cobblestone street (that had originally confused us when we first arrived) which led us to two directions - drive through a pedestrian plaza or drive down what seemed to be the wrong way towards a church. We opted for the church (because why would we drive through a plaza?), but that led us to a dead end. It seemed too dangerous to drive in reverse back towards the hotel, so at a standstill we simply couldn't figure out what to do. Luckily there was a cop nearby who confirmed that we DID in fact have to drive through the pedestrian plaza. Whatever, I'll never understand the driving in this country at all.

We made it out of the city much easier and quicker than we had entered and were soon on our way through the mountains towards San Javier watching the sun rise. We stopped at a random roadside cafe for a break, which was cool because it definitely did not seem like a place where non-Spanish speaking people tend to stop at. We continued the journey until we excitedly reached our destination...but of course got lost there too. Luckily, we asked directions in a furniture store that happened to be run by people from England, and they set us in the right direction (we had put the wrong town into the gps...whoops.)

Turned out we weren't staying in San Javier, but nearby in a town called Los Alcazares. The Lanes' family friend Brian was kind enough to let us stay at his apartment there, which was actually how our whole Spain trip idea had started in the first place. It was nice to have a place to settle for a few days where we could partake in some GTL. After arriving, we laid out by the community pool before heading to the town's main street.

Holiday Community in Los Alcazares

Well, I have to say I had quite a shock when we went for dinner. The street was full of English and Indian restaurants, no site of anything Spanish whatsoever! We knew this was a holiday destination for Brits (Brian's brother and friends also have apartments in the same community), but literally everyone and everything was straight out of the UK. It was totally fine, just not what I was expecting (nor was I anticipating that my Spanish vacation would consist of having drinks at a place so authentically named Route 66.)

The next day we walked to the beach and just laid out. Although we had beautiful views, another thing we hadn't realized was that we weren't actually on the Mediterranean. We were in fact on an almost fully enclosed sea called Mar Menor.

Mar Menor

The beach had cute wooden umbrellas for shade. Unfortunately that didn't shade me from the many unnecessary beyond-middle-age-saggy boobs that were exposed to the sun. I'll spare you any photos of that.

That evening we stayed in, cooked spaghetti, and watched The Godfather. So we basically had an Italian-themed night in an English part of Spain.

On Friday we rented bikes and rode along the promenade next to the beach. The map was pretty vague though - originally we thought we could make it around most of Mar Menor, but we probably got about 1/12th of the way there and hit a dirt road which seemed like the ideal place for getting lost in the woods in a foreign country. We couldn't figure out how to continue so we found the closest inhabited area (a Spanish part of town surprisingly) and had paella for lunch.

After turning around we headed as far as we could in the other direction until that path too stopped (this time because of a military sign saying do not enter.) The coolest part of this path was that the promenade turned into a wooden single-file bridge surrounded by 6 foot grass, which allowed for a ride with no other people around.

Good job auto camera settings

That evening we ate in again and then went out for a pint. I found myself fascinated by a cockroach that had climbed about 8 feet up the brick wall (we were seated outside) and was hanging out there for remainder of the evening without falling. I wanted to name him and Dave suggested Gregory. This was weird because I had been talking about The Metamorphosis but couldn't remember the roach's name the whole night. Dave, who had never read the book, randomly nailed it on the first try (of course he is Gregor Samsa.)

Tell Me Moor Tell Me Moor

As much as we enjoyed Malaga, for the second leg of our Spain trip, Dave and I ventured through and around the city trying to leave. We trekked to a few rental car shops to compare prices only to end up booking our car at a random no-name place. So with our fingers crossed we hoped the insurance was legitimate and headed out to find our car which was parked literally on a street somewhere - we just had to look for the license plate in order to find it. We asked a guy on the next street for help with the car map, and he grabbed the keys to check out the license plate on the tag. While mid-thought of "he's trying to steal our keys!" he explained that he actually worked for the rental place and was on his way there. Turned out that our car was randomly, and luckily parked in a spot right near us.

After Dave got himself adjusted to our compact vehicle (props to the man - driving on the opposite side of the road, while sitting in the opposite side of the car, driving stick which he hadn't done in years, with the stick on the opposite side of his body), we promptly got stuck in traffic. You see, Malaga is in the running for the European Capital of Culture in 2016 so there's construction everywhere, which meant the GPS was of little help.

We eventually reached the highway to Granada, though the driving issues didn't end there. After missing our exit and turning around, upon entering the city we were completely baffled as to where the hotel was. We stopped off at a bakery where I had a ten minute conversation in Spanish with the manager (mostly saying "not ____" and "not ____" if I didn't know the word - process of elimination did actually work.) He called the hotel for directions which got us in the vicinity but didn't land us directly there. The street we thought we had to turn onto had a sign with a big red prohibited line, in addition to it being a tiny cobblestone street which we didn't even think our small car could fit down. We found a local garage (there is no street parking in Granada) with what seemed like an 80 degree angled twisty entrance and parked temporarily. We resorted to asking other hotels where ours was, and if we could even park in their garages (answer: a confused look followed by "No.") We finally found our hotel that confirmed we were to drive down that tiny "do not enter" street and into their 80 degree angled twisty entrance garage. The driving there made us nervous wrecks so we decided to extend our stay in Granada from one to two nights which I'm thankful we did.

We made it to the hotel just in time to hop on the small bus that took us up the mountains to The Alhambra. The easiest way for me to explain The Alhambra is that it's a Moorish palace/fortress/garden/small city that overlooks all of Granada. The first area that visitors walk around is called Generalife (pictured below.)

I'm obsessed with the views of the white houses on hills

The below pic is slightly reminiscent of this photo taken in Bath(Dammit, I never posted the photo I'm talking about, but a Bath recap is always nice.)

Little pink white houses for you and me

I can't believe we managed to capture these photos with no one else in themI swear we didn't carve this into the tree

The Alhambra and it's views were beautiful. The pictures of the detailing in the palace simply don't do it justice. This is a must to visit if you're ever in Southern Spain.

Another reason one should visit is Granada is for the FREE tapas! Every time you order a drink in this city, the restaurant brings you a small free plate of food. We knew that beforehand because we had inside information, but had we not, we probably would have blown an unnecessary amount of money on dinner. Instead, we spent a small amount of money on cheap drinks and filled our stomachs up on a lovely street of restaurants near our hotel.

I still don't know what the first tapa(s?) that came out was exactly. According to this website, perhaps it's a type of Montadito? It appeared to be a pate-like mush full of flavor on bread...I'll leave you to ponder that image for yourself, but it was quite tasty (in a good way.) Oh, I also removed the fried egg that came on top of it if that helps for identification purposes.

The second tapa(s?) was sausage on bread with a side of these tasty bean-type things that looked like mutant corn kernels. I saw the mutant corn-kernel bean things in a jar in the supermarket but couldn't decipher what they were. Ana - any help here would be greatly appreciated.

Third up were little franks in some sauce. Dave told me they were likely from a can but I'd like to think they weren't (although...how else would they come?)

We switched bars for the fourth drink and luckily didn't receive a repeat plate. At this place we received chicken croquettes with fries. I'd had this in Malaga and it was one of my favorites.

On our way back to the hotel we spotted a cozy tapas bar on that tiny cobblestone street where we were staying. One of the coolest things about Granada is that you would never know it until the evening, but there are charming little tapas bars that open up on practically every street. I think we fared best at this place - we were first given Spanish prosciutto (name?) on bread with a side of olives, and for round 2, a hard cheese with honey and dried cranberries on top.

Yum...cheese and honey tapasOh wine what you do to me

You would think that all of that wine would have made me sick. Well, it did! The next day we ventured out to grab food but I was feeling nauseous and had to head back to the hotel before truly starting our day. With me still feeling about 38%, we booked a bus tour around the city as I couldn't physically handle much more than that (let it be stated that I think I had a virus or fever and not just a hangover - there were chills and sweats involved.)

Our first stop was actually The Alhambra again. We drove up a different way which gave us another batch of beautiful mountainside views. I also don't understand how a bus that big physically made it up the side of the mountain but that's another story.

We passed the bull ring on the tour as well. Unfortunately no fights were happening when we were in town. I would have loved to seen one, but at least we watched some on TV during the trip - they were quite entertaining, though disgusting at the same time.

I don't know why this sticker was posted to this sign but I like it

After most of the journey, we exited the bus and walked around the area by the main church. I made friends with an ice cream cone that looked like a cartoon dog.

We roamed around for the rest of the day and accidentally stumbled upon multiple fountains at night.

Yay, we love fountains

I'm wondering if I'll finish posting about my trip to Spain by the time I go to England for the holidays. Part three to follow.

The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain

Am I late on the bandwagon with this? PLEASE watch the funniest video I have ever seen (thanks Meghan!)

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

At the end of September, Dave and I rendezvoused in Spain (he was in the UK handing in his thesis so we met in Europe for a vacation.) The trip was booked based on the fact that we were offered free accommodation near San Javier, but more on that later.

On a Saturday morning I arrived in Malaga in southern Spain.

(Malaga's at the Bottom)

After getting off the train, there was construction going on and I was in the middle of a major intersection clueless as to where to go in the heat with my large suitcase. I hesitantly tested out my Espanol with the closest ice cream vendor to ask for help in locating the hotel. She gave me a map and pointed in a direction, which led me to a large tourist map down the block. After studying the map for about 15 minutes, I figured I'd take a guess at a direction (1 in 4 were okay odds in my opinion.) In taking off, I moved two feet to the right of the map, looked up and there was the hotel...typical.

The "riverbed" next to our hotel

As Dave's flight wasn't getting in until the evening, I thought I'd have a wander (and after all, Spain's largest department store was only a block away.) Starvation set in and I walked aimlessly for a few hours trying to find a shop that was open (thanks siesta) or a bar that didn't have only men in it. I ended up buying a plain roll and a lemon jelly-flavored, unappetizing biscuit from a supermarket (a first of many not-dinner dinners to come.) I had no idea where I was, could not find it on the map, and eventually had to backtrack until I made it safely back to the hotel.

While waiting for Dave, I decided to brush up on my Spanish by watching dubbed Sex and the City and Gossip Girl (also giving me flashbacks of watching Dawson's Creek and Guiding Light in Italian while studying abroad.) It hit the 11 pm point and Dave still hadn't arrived, which got me freaking out - if I hadn't been able to find the hotel (and I speak some Spanish), then I figured he was probably lost. After confirming with the front desk that the area was safe (especially the case on a Saturday night), I ventured out to look for Dave. Oh, and by the way, ten feet out of the hotel I got harassed by a scary old man (thanks NH Malaga staff.) I darted until I was out of his eyesight and circled the deserted area of the train station completely baffled as to where Dave was. I even went into the empty station, only to find a lone security guard questioning what I was doing there. I had an excellent conversation in Spanish in which she confirmed that there was one more train arriving at 11:45 pm. I went back to the hotel to check Dave's flight status and the Aer Lingus site said it was delayed until the morning, but I was all dressed up to go out (and of course I was worried...) so I was not accepting that as an answer. I checked the airport site that confirmed his flight had been delayed, but only by two hours, and was landing any minute. I went upstairs to grab my trash magazine (so thankful they carry the UK mags in the Madrid airport), seated myself down in the lobby and thankfully Dave walked in soon after.

We then went out in the historic center to get some food (at which point I realized that I had been wandering around lost all day in an outer random area of the city.) No one would serve food at that time though, so we ended up in a main square facing the church...at Cheers. We had one drink before they closed and headed back.

The next morning we went on a great bike tour that took us throughout the city. Each of our bikes had a name.

Me

Dave

One stop we made was to the square near Picasso's birthplace. There were too many tourists for a photo op with Pablo's statue so we posed together instead.

Everyone else was wearing a helmet...

We rode through the main park that was parallel to the beach. If I remember the story correctly, the man who built up the park brought plants from all over the world. They were quite the beauty (and quite ginormous.)
We also rode on the actual beach and stopped at a seaside bar. On the southern coast of Spain they cook Sardines on the beach which we had the delight of trying.

Pre-feast

Loving the guts

This is our tour group - you can find us in the GCute street we rode through - the guy at the end posing was a bonus.

Picasso was born in Malaga. Ironically my face is shaped like something from one of his paintings in this photo.

His childhood home is now a small museum. According to our tour guide, most people think that his art in Malaga is the "lesser" of the lot. You can judge for yourself -

In the afternoon post-tour we headed to a recommended tapas bar called Lo Gueno. Not being too daring, we had plates of paella, sausage, chicken croquettes, potatoes, and rabbit amongst other things. As this was a mid-afternoon meal, we ended up eating bizarre dinner #2 which of course was ice cream.

We meandered around the main street for the remainder of the evening.Our stay in Malaga ended with the hotel buffet breakfast. Mine included an amazing piece of chocolate cake. Hey, if the hotel wants to offer that for breakfast, who am I to reject such an offer??

Spain trip part dos to follow.

Also, for a deafening rendition of the blog post title, please refer to the PS 115 My Fair Lady sixth grade school play VHS where I completely butchered it (I was sick, okay??)