Spain
My first visit to Spain started the way that many of my trips start - rushing to pack at the last moment, trekking to the bus stop with a loaded backpack full of unnecessary items, getting on a smelly bus to Clapham, debating whether or not to buy a train ticket and showing up at Gatwick already exhausted. By the time Calandra and I had made this journey we had also realised that we had not really left enough time to check in and we were in great danger of missing our flight. Fortunately, we were ushered to the check-in desk for time-management-challenged travellers and managed to get on our plane in the nick of time where Calandra promptly fell asleep in an attempt to recover from her flu.
After negotiating out way through the Metro system and finding our hostel we found Josh in our room, recovering from an encounter with a he-she. I introduced my two friends and we headed out to see the sights of Madrid. It didn’t take us long to realise that there is not particularly much to see in Madrid so instead we found a kebab shop where I demonstrated my ability to get more kebab on the table than in my mouth. Our next stop was a makeshift bottle shop before heading back to the room for some pre-drinking. Our downfall here was that we had bought wine yet had no means of opening it. Josh decided to be a hero here and opened the wine using the incredibly effective method of poking holes in the cork with a knife until wine could be poured out (or in this case, sprayed over Josh’s face and bed). When this was finished it was time to check out the Spanish nightlife that we’d heard so much about.
We were given the address of a recommended nightclub not far from our hotel and after much gesturing and pointing and unidentifiable sound effects we managed to work out that out taxi driver didn’t know where the place was. We let him drop us off at the first place we saw with people milling around. I was pretty impressed with the queue here, mainly due to the fact that I was one of about 5 females in the sausage party. Josh was not so impressed, especially after I was given free entry and he had to paid 10 euros. He soon cheered up when we realised that this place would refill our glasses every round…for free. Boom. We stayed long enough to hear the soundtrack for the night be repeated. The music was a quirky mix of 50s lounge, Spanish rap and some occasional rock thrown in.
Most of Friday was spent ‘siestaing.’ I’m a huge fan of siestas and believe that naps should not be reserved for nannas and small children. We left the hotel briefly to stand in the rain while Calandra went souvenir shopping and later went to a bullfight at Ventas. Before the fight I actually had no idea what to expect. I was vaguely aware of the fact that the bulls were killed and that men would wave red flags in front of them. Despite the barbaric nature of bull fighting it was relatively entertaining and the skills of the matadors and horses were amazing. I know I wouldn’t be too keen to be put in a ring with 600kgs of angry bull. We ended the evening with a terrible meal that made frozen meals seem like fine cuisine and continued our great sleeping habit.
Having been in Madrid for 2 days already we decided that Saturday should be spent doing some sightseeing. We got on a MadridVision tour where our main goal was to stay awake. There were some nice buildings and gardens but to be honest, I am sick of seeing European building and gardens. They are all starting to look the same.
Fortunately we were not in Madrid for the sightseeing. That night was the introduction to the people we’d be spending the next week with at Vaughan Town, a programme where English speakers help Spaniards develop their spoken English through immersing them in the language for a week. In return we were given three course meals in a four star hotel complete with pool, spa, sauna, gym and in-room Jacuzzis. I somehow managed to get the dodgy loft room with two single beds as opposed to enormous king sized beds where two people may never meet. It was still a welcome change to budget hostels, room sharing with Nigel (come on, you don’t miss it either Nige) and friends' couches nonetheless. The Puerta de Gredos grounds were beautiful, with views to the mountains, a short walk to a river and wide expanses of green. The air fresh and the sky was blue and it was a nice contrast the miserable grey skies of London.
Our first contact with the Spaniards was over lunch and to be honest, I found it really difficult. I couldn’t understand the ladies I sat with, I felt I had nothing to talk about and they struggled to understand me. Fortunately by the end of the week, we were all chatting away with no problems at all. The only thing left for me to get used to was the oily food.
My first one-on-one session was much easier and involved me teaching the unsuspecting Ruben how to say G’Day mate and to distinguish between thongs and flip flops. I soon learnt to slow down my speech without dumbing down the language (although not to the point of Josh, who often spoke as if he was making some sort of wild animal understand him haha).
The week continued in much the same way - waking up at 8:15 to head to an amazing buffet breakfast featuring smoked salmon and goat’s cheese (yum); one-on-one sessions taking us through to lunch; more conversation over lunch and red wine; siesta (or spaesta as we renamed it); group activities (during which time we lied and decided not to kill the fat man among other things); telephone calls; conference calls and presentations.
There were a few things organised in the evenings, one was the making of Quemada (sp?), a disgustingly potent drink that smells like vomit, tastes like feet but is fun to make. There was also a tapas night and a few ‘parties’ that by the sounds of things were incredibly tame in comparison to the previous week’s effort.
I have always enjoyed meeting people and I think that is what made this programme so enjoyable for me. I love having little in-jokes and being able to joke and laugh with people over a common base of experiences.
On of my favourite ongoing jokes was that of Josh’s alter ego, Pepe. He had been taught how to say “My name is Pepe, I love you” in Spanish and aroused great hilarity in saying this to the Spanish ladies. He was given room numbers from a few of the Spaniards (including a man) and ended up with a loyal following of Pepe admirers. They even appreciated his dressing up as a baby, wearing nothing but a strategically place towel and a dummy.
The Spaniards seemed love teaching us Spanish (or rather, laughing at out attempts to pronounce the words). Our programme manager targeted me at one point (due to my ingenuousness apparently) and asked me to read some Spanish words out to the group. With the amount of laughter this raised, I soon realised that I was saying things such as “Wow, he’s handsome” and “His penis is big and hard.” I attempted to try out some of my newly learned Spanish on a Brazilian at the pub Sunday night but it turns out Brazilians speak Portuguese. Oops.
As well as learning some Spanish phrases I also had the chance to practise a Yorkshire accent, courtesy of Jimmy. I didn’t do particularly well at this but can say “Nooooo, nooooo, noooo Suuuuzeh” quite well.
This sharing of cultures obviously went both ways. We taught the Spaniards about Boony and even renamed Xavier Boony due to an amazing likeness which he was quite proud of.
The week went amazingly fast and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye. After being told off by our manager we strated to worry that booking an 8:40pm flight may have been a little ambitious. Luckily, the wonderful Juan Antonio came to the rescue and not only got calandra and I to Madrid in record time, but he also took us to the airport entrance, opened our doors for us and got our bags out. Such amazing hospitality!!
In the end rushing to the airport was not so necessary as our plane was delayed by over an hour. We filled this time by playing UNO with some random (and very attractive) Canadian guys who were waiting for the same flight. I seem to have a habit of making friends at airports and this was no exception. We all spent the night at Calandra's house encouraging the boys to try Bundaberg Rum and Vegemite. An Aussie end to a week in Spain :)
Rest of my photos found here
Everyone else's photos here
After negotiating out way through the Metro system and finding our hostel we found Josh in our room, recovering from an encounter with a he-she. I introduced my two friends and we headed out to see the sights of Madrid. It didn’t take us long to realise that there is not particularly much to see in Madrid so instead we found a kebab shop where I demonstrated my ability to get more kebab on the table than in my mouth. Our next stop was a makeshift bottle shop before heading back to the room for some pre-drinking. Our downfall here was that we had bought wine yet had no means of opening it. Josh decided to be a hero here and opened the wine using the incredibly effective method of poking holes in the cork with a knife until wine could be poured out (or in this case, sprayed over Josh’s face and bed). When this was finished it was time to check out the Spanish nightlife that we’d heard so much about.
We were given the address of a recommended nightclub not far from our hotel and after much gesturing and pointing and unidentifiable sound effects we managed to work out that out taxi driver didn’t know where the place was. We let him drop us off at the first place we saw with people milling around. I was pretty impressed with the queue here, mainly due to the fact that I was one of about 5 females in the sausage party. Josh was not so impressed, especially after I was given free entry and he had to paid 10 euros. He soon cheered up when we realised that this place would refill our glasses every round…for free. Boom. We stayed long enough to hear the soundtrack for the night be repeated. The music was a quirky mix of 50s lounge, Spanish rap and some occasional rock thrown in.
Most of Friday was spent ‘siestaing.’ I’m a huge fan of siestas and believe that naps should not be reserved for nannas and small children. We left the hotel briefly to stand in the rain while Calandra went souvenir shopping and later went to a bullfight at Ventas. Before the fight I actually had no idea what to expect. I was vaguely aware of the fact that the bulls were killed and that men would wave red flags in front of them. Despite the barbaric nature of bull fighting it was relatively entertaining and the skills of the matadors and horses were amazing. I know I wouldn’t be too keen to be put in a ring with 600kgs of angry bull. We ended the evening with a terrible meal that made frozen meals seem like fine cuisine and continued our great sleeping habit.
Having been in Madrid for 2 days already we decided that Saturday should be spent doing some sightseeing. We got on a MadridVision tour where our main goal was to stay awake. There were some nice buildings and gardens but to be honest, I am sick of seeing European building and gardens. They are all starting to look the same.
Fortunately we were not in Madrid for the sightseeing. That night was the introduction to the people we’d be spending the next week with at Vaughan Town, a programme where English speakers help Spaniards develop their spoken English through immersing them in the language for a week. In return we were given three course meals in a four star hotel complete with pool, spa, sauna, gym and in-room Jacuzzis. I somehow managed to get the dodgy loft room with two single beds as opposed to enormous king sized beds where two people may never meet. It was still a welcome change to budget hostels, room sharing with Nigel (come on, you don’t miss it either Nige) and friends' couches nonetheless. The Puerta de Gredos grounds were beautiful, with views to the mountains, a short walk to a river and wide expanses of green. The air fresh and the sky was blue and it was a nice contrast the miserable grey skies of London.
Our first contact with the Spaniards was over lunch and to be honest, I found it really difficult. I couldn’t understand the ladies I sat with, I felt I had nothing to talk about and they struggled to understand me. Fortunately by the end of the week, we were all chatting away with no problems at all. The only thing left for me to get used to was the oily food.
My first one-on-one session was much easier and involved me teaching the unsuspecting Ruben how to say G’Day mate and to distinguish between thongs and flip flops. I soon learnt to slow down my speech without dumbing down the language (although not to the point of Josh, who often spoke as if he was making some sort of wild animal understand him haha).
The week continued in much the same way - waking up at 8:15 to head to an amazing buffet breakfast featuring smoked salmon and goat’s cheese (yum); one-on-one sessions taking us through to lunch; more conversation over lunch and red wine; siesta (or spaesta as we renamed it); group activities (during which time we lied and decided not to kill the fat man among other things); telephone calls; conference calls and presentations.
There were a few things organised in the evenings, one was the making of Quemada (sp?), a disgustingly potent drink that smells like vomit, tastes like feet but is fun to make. There was also a tapas night and a few ‘parties’ that by the sounds of things were incredibly tame in comparison to the previous week’s effort.
I have always enjoyed meeting people and I think that is what made this programme so enjoyable for me. I love having little in-jokes and being able to joke and laugh with people over a common base of experiences.
On of my favourite ongoing jokes was that of Josh’s alter ego, Pepe. He had been taught how to say “My name is Pepe, I love you” in Spanish and aroused great hilarity in saying this to the Spanish ladies. He was given room numbers from a few of the Spaniards (including a man) and ended up with a loyal following of Pepe admirers. They even appreciated his dressing up as a baby, wearing nothing but a strategically place towel and a dummy.
The Spaniards seemed love teaching us Spanish (or rather, laughing at out attempts to pronounce the words). Our programme manager targeted me at one point (due to my ingenuousness apparently) and asked me to read some Spanish words out to the group. With the amount of laughter this raised, I soon realised that I was saying things such as “Wow, he’s handsome” and “His penis is big and hard.” I attempted to try out some of my newly learned Spanish on a Brazilian at the pub Sunday night but it turns out Brazilians speak Portuguese. Oops.
As well as learning some Spanish phrases I also had the chance to practise a Yorkshire accent, courtesy of Jimmy. I didn’t do particularly well at this but can say “Nooooo, nooooo, noooo Suuuuzeh” quite well.
This sharing of cultures obviously went both ways. We taught the Spaniards about Boony and even renamed Xavier Boony due to an amazing likeness which he was quite proud of.
The week went amazingly fast and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye. After being told off by our manager we strated to worry that booking an 8:40pm flight may have been a little ambitious. Luckily, the wonderful Juan Antonio came to the rescue and not only got calandra and I to Madrid in record time, but he also took us to the airport entrance, opened our doors for us and got our bags out. Such amazing hospitality!!
In the end rushing to the airport was not so necessary as our plane was delayed by over an hour. We filled this time by playing UNO with some random (and very attractive) Canadian guys who were waiting for the same flight. I seem to have a habit of making friends at airports and this was no exception. We all spent the night at Calandra's house encouraging the boys to try Bundaberg Rum and Vegemite. An Aussie end to a week in Spain :)
Rest of my photos found here
Everyone else's photos here