Welcome to a walk through Portugal: land of tasty pastries, gorgeous mountains, Porto wine, and fairytale castles! We adventured to Portugal for two main reasons. #1) We (as temporary Spaniards) share our lovely little Iberian Peninsula with Portugal, so we are literally next door neighbors, and it would be impolite not to meet your closest neighbor. #2) a darling Portuguese native found her way to Pamplona to study nursing for three months. It was in these three months that we encountered a friendship tied together with the struggles of adapting to another culture and language, several long talks, and a lot nights filled with dancing. Mafalda, our Portuguese cutie, invited us to visit her and adventure through her country (naturally something we couldn’t possibly turn down). The later of the two reasons single-handedly created the most amazing trip we could have had in Portugal. Mafalda, along with her posse of bubbly Portuguese friends and sweet family, showed us a Portugal that few tourists are privileged enough to see. She went out of her way to take care of us, find interesting foods for us to try, cook for us, search out great photo opportunities, and see as much as we could in the short week we had. The truth of travel is that it is ALWAYS better to visit someone who lives in the country because they can show you things you would never find on your own. For example, Belem pastries or Ovos Moles or Fado…but I get ahead of myself…

We start this story at the beginning…our first steps on Portuguese soil! We arrived in Porto, Portugal early in the morning after a night of train travel to find that our accommodations had fallen through…Mafalda, always coming to our rescue, offered for the four of us to stay with her family for the next several days. And so, after a whirlwind walk through Porto, we headed off to a small mountain pueblito named Sever. This tiny town wound up, down, around, and through a series of valleys and tree-studded mountains resulting in a picturesque view from every window of each brightly colored house (ours was pink!). Here is where we started our parade of yummy Portuguese pastries…we were quite pleased to find out that almost every city in Portugal boasted it’s own unique pastry and we were bound and determined to try them in every city we visited!

Dessert #1) Tripa –Picture a thick gooey crepe filled with cheese or jam or chocolate.  They are served piping hot with cinnamon liberally sprinkled over the top! (Made only in Sever)

Dessert #2) Bolachas – A crunchy version of tripa. When we went to visit the Bolacha-man’s stand, he greeted us (as almost all Portuguese did) with a warm smile, a hearty welcome, and free food! The Bolacha-man was so pleased that we were visiting Sever all the way from America that he gave us each a free Bolacha just to try, assuring us that they were the best ones in all of Portugal. Inside of our Bolachas was another specialty to that region: Ovos Moles. We tried and tried to figure out exactly what Ovos Moles was to no avail…it is some kind of an egg-yolk, super sugary mixture that can be cooked into pastry or used as a jam.

After our taste of pastries, we went hiking through the forest down to a cool waterfall near the house. We sat munching freshly picked cherries and catching up on life near the rush of the cool water…a perfect place to reconnect with a good friend. This little town actually remained my a favorite of mine for the whole trip because I felt like we got a taste of true Portugal, not the Portugal thousands of tourists venture to see, but the Portugal the natives call home! Indeed, we certainly TASTED Portugal with Mafalda’s family…they cooked for us every night and made delicious Portuguese dishes with pork and potatoes, cabbage and chicken, fish and onions. Each one was better than the last and it was so wonderful to be cooked for by parents and surrounded by a family. On our last day with her family, we went to her aunt’s restaurant and ate some amazing dishes: Bacalao (cod-like fish) with potatoes and onions, several different appetizers including Portuguese olives and Rissol (empanada-like battered cheese and meat), a second full-course of pork roast, potatoes and rice, bread, pate, and of course dessert. We also got to try Vinho Verde (wine made from green grapes that retains a greenish tinge and a light sweet flavor).  It was amazing and we felt so blessed that they went out of their way to share it with us…we tried to express our thanks as best as we could, but we had to struggle through with only a few Portuguese words (Obrigada, which means thank-you, we used over a hundred times) and a lot of hand signals and smiles!

While we stayed with the family, we took two day trips: one to Aveiro and one to Porto. Our trip to Aveiro proved to be my favorite part of Portugal for a few important reasons. #1) it was a beach-town where we got a chance to dance in the Atlantic Ocean, dig our toes in the sand, and try to look across to see America. #2) this particular beach town boasted an amazing set of brightly painted striped-houses! #3) Aveiro is famous for Ovos Moles! #4) we had time to wander around and just enjoy walking and exploring and BEING in a new place. And #5) we had our first encounter with THE ROOSTER! It was in Aveiro that we first discovered the “Galo de Barcelos” or “rooster from Barcelos,” a famous symbol throughout Portugal. The story goes that a Pilgrim was passing through Barcelos on his way to Santiago de Compostela when he was wrongly accused of stealing some food. Knowing he was innocent and not wanting to die, the pilgrim made a bargain with the judge, stating that if he were indeed innocent then a cooked rooster would rise up from his plate and crow! Because of his strong faith, the miracle happened and the pilgrim was freed. This story is remembered throughout Portugal through the emblem of a brightly colored wooden rooster that takes the form of pendants, key chains, charms, posters, oven mitts, and card decks. For some reason, we all fell in love with our “Galo de Barcelos” and were delighted to find him everywhere we went!

Dessert #3) Ovos Moles – That same egg-yolk sugar mixture used in the bolachas was now used to make a series of unusual, eggy baked pastries. The flavor was so distinct and very good, but super sweet so I could only eat a few.

Dessert #4) Pâo de Ló – a fluffy angel-food-cake-like pastry made (count ‘em) with 24 egg-yolks!

We also visited Porto and tried the famous Porto wine, a strong wine with 20% alcohol due to the fact that Brandy is added to stop the fermentation process and fortify the wine. The tawny wine has a deep flavor, whereas the white Porto is a bit sweeter, and it was fun to see the winery and learn about the making of Porto. While in Porto, we took a leisurely boat ride up the river to see the city, spotted with wineries, and the mouth of the river as it opens into the Atlantic Ocean. We also visited the Palacio de Bolso, an ornate old stock exchange building and business center, with intricately pieced together wood floors and Alhambra-style Arabic designs. (Here we got the chance to practice our middling Portuguese, as the tour was in Portuguese! I was surprised to find that if I listened very closely and turned my brain to 100% active, I could piece together quite a bit of what our guide was saying by utilizing all the similarities to Spanish).

Dessert #5) Doçe de Céu – a creamy pudding with a graham cracker base and burnt sugar glaze. Yum!

We hopped on a train and in less than an hour we arrived in Coimbra, home to the oldest University in Europe and one of the largest academic festivals in the world. We planned to be there right in time for the big kick-off of the festival: the parade! All of the individual colleges created huge floats on the back of trucks complete with chicken wire, tissue paper, and streamers. The kicker is that this parade trumped any parade I have ever seen because instead of tossing a few pieces of candy to eager bystanders, these college students doled out sandwiches, beer, water, juice, candy, chips, chocolate, cake, and whatever else they had to anyone and everyone! All you had to do was squirm your way through the crowd and put your hand in the air and someone would place something to eat or drink into your waiting hand, for absolutely free! The months previous, the students ask local businesses to sponsor their floats so they have enough food and drinks to last all day! It was an amazing festival to be a part of!

All the student of Portugal are required to buy a very formal three-piece suit when they enter the university that they will use for all four years: they wear it for graduations, formal events, initiation of the students, concerts, and, just to get enough use out of it, every Thursday. J  All the student were wearing their formal attire for the parade and party, and because a long black cape is part of the ensemble, we felt a bit like we had discovered J.K. Rowling’s inspiration for Harry Potter! I kept expecting Hermione to jump out at me from around a corner or run into Snape pushing through the crowd for a free beer. The seniors were set apart by a special addition to the suit: top hats, canes, and bow ties to match their respective school colors (education was orange). We also found out that the best way to wish a Portuguese graduate good luck after school is to grab his or her cane, and whap them three times over the head with it – afterwards, I suppose to soften the blows (so to speak) you give them three kisses! It was so great to see the whole town turned out for the festival: grandparents in lawn chairs, mothers crying as the graduates strolled around in their regal top hats, envious younger siblings craning to see inside the floats, and of course the students, eager to blow off a semester worth of pent-up stress and anxiety. Definitely one of the best festivals I have ever seen…it even rivaled St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland, and that says a lot!

Dessert #6) Aletria – A cinnamon-lemon sweet pudding made with very fine noodles, milk, sugar, and of course egg yolks. (noticing a trend?) Mafalda and her friends tried to make it for us, and although we loved it, they assured us that it didn’t turn out right and that their moms were the real ones that could make it to die for…I guess some things are the same in every country!

Next we headed to Lisboa. The train only took a few hours and we utilized every minute of it to hone our horrible Portuguese! We were desperately picking up bits and pieces of Portuguese, but our vocab was still very limited and our pronunciation terribly foreign. Among the words we learned, some of the most important are:
Tudo Bem? – How are you?
Es Giru (Esh Giroo) – It’s so cute!
Fixe (Fish) – super cool
Fallas Ingles? (Fallas Ingleysh) – Do you speak English?
Casas Conmigo? (Cashas Conmigoo) – Will you marry me?
Estou Perdido (Eshtou Perdidoo) – I am lost

I am sure we looked and sounded completely ridiculous trying to find the correct pronunciation of each word. Just picture 4 foreign girls sitting in a train repeating over and over again “Theenk you, thank eww, tank ooo, thanke ooo, thunk you, thank you….yes that’s it, thank you” and then moving on to the next word to butcher! J

First stop: Belem, a small suburb of Portugal home to the Torre de Belem, Monasterio de Jeronimo, and the Belem pastry. If you ask anyone in Portugal, you will find out that the latter is the most important, so I will address that one first!

Dessert #7) Pasteis de Belem – a warm tart filled with a special, secret crème filling that has been carefully guarded throughout the almost 200 years these pastries have been manufactured. I honestly can’t tell you what made them so delicious, but I can tell you that I understand why everyone we talked with (and some people who just randomly pulled us aside on the street) forcefully demanded that we stop in to try them!

We actually didn’t get a chance to see that much in Belem because everything was closed…but we got a surprise bonus! On accident we stumbled across a huge ceremony in front of the Monastery and saw the King of Sweden greeted by the President of Portugal! We later found out that they were meeting for renewable energy talks and that the president’s house is in Belem, but that was a neat surprise!

After Belem, we headed to Sintra – a fairy tale city with castles around every corner, hidden in the middle of a huge forest and home to its own microclimate. My favorite palace in Sintra was the National palace, which featured the most beautiful ceilings I have ever seen: each room decorated with a different style and often a different type of bird. The chapel walls were covered with cooing doves, the ladies-in-waiting room decorated with fitting magpies, the regal bedroom adorned with graceful swans. The Palace itself used to be a harem for the sultan before the Portuguese recaptured Sintra, drove out the sultan, and turned the harem into a national palace. Wow – who wouldn’t love a history like that?

We really didn’t have very much time in Lisboa because we had to head back to school, but before we took off, thanks to Mafalda and her gracious friends, we got a chance to see a Fado show. Now, Fado is a musical style from and only used in Portugal. It has been called a melancholic Flamenco…but I wouldn’t say that at all. What Fado lacks in stomps, claps, and twirls, it makes up for in resonating notes, deep pauses, and meaningful lyrics…what ties Fado and Flamenco together is passion. Both music types are imbued with the kind of passion you feel in every timber of your body, from your eyebrows to your toenails. Fado is the kind of music that can soothe a broken heart or bring peace to a restless spirit, but it can also inspire a revolution or turn friends into lovers. Listening to Fado, surrounded by new and old friends in a dingy bar packed with locals was one of my favorite experiences in Portugal; Mafalda and her friends did their best to whisper rough translations to us…but as music lovers know – music doesn’t ever have to have a translation. Passion translates to everyone.

This weekend we trekked the 1000 odd kilometers down south to sunny Sevilla, which bursts at the seams once a year during Feria de Abril – a weeklong tribute to flamenco dresses & dancing, food, tradition, flamenco music, and Andalusian (Spanish region) culture. In general, Southern Spain is known for its flamenco dancing, olives, oranges, sunshine, beaches, Moorish architecture, and Arabic influences; all of these things reach their pinnacle for Feria week in April. An entire fairground is dedicated to hold this honored tradition, which has been taking place for well over a century, and throughout the day and night the fair is bustling with girls in flamenco dresses, grandparents out for a stroll, dolled up three year olds with flowers in their hair, and camera-happy tourists like us. The men generally wore suit jackets and jeans, although some did wear the traditional vests and flat-topped hats. Many women still dress up in the traditional flamenco dresses, but they have now deviated from the standard red polka dots to form a startling array of colors, patterns, and textures. It was really interesting to see the different dresses because many of them so clearly tell a story about the wearer: teenage girls were decked out in fushia and lime green polka dots or purple and pink stripes, women usually sported more refined, classical, or elegant choices such as cream with royal purple trim (one of my favorites) or solid crimson or beige with black lace accents, grandmotherly women often had gorgeous old flamenco dresses that had faded with time and were probably sewn by hand, and the youngest of the bunch (anywhere from 2 months to 10 years) ran around swishing the fullest skirts of all with bright polka dots and eye-catching colors! They were all so beautiful and I loved how EVERYONE joined in the celebration. Dressing up wasn’t just for teens or older women or kids or skinny girls or actual flamenco dancers…all women had the opportunity to participate in the event and they all looked so lovely. To top off the beautiful dress, many would pull their hair back into a chignon, place a large decorative comb in the top, and pin a grapefruit sized flower on top of their heads or to the side behind their ears. The dresses were so beautiful and we all turned chartreuse with envy in our jeans and t-shirts! J

The women wore the dresses everywhere (including eating in restaurants, going shopping, getting groceries, etc.) and the result was a cross between a carnival-like feeling and the sentiment of jumping back hundreds of years in time. It was so fun just to sit and have a tea (Arabic style made steeped in milk) or Chocolate with Churros (super thick hot chocolate to dip greasy-amazing-funnel-cake-like churros into) and watch the women parade by in their dresses. We had so much fun picking out our favorite styles and patterns – I think my favorite was when whole families matched. There was one girl (about 9 years old) who was dressed head-to-toe exactly like her mom (from hair to shoes to earrings to flower position) and she was so pleased to be such a big girl – they were both gorgeous and looked so cute sauntering down the street in their matching hot pink flamenco gowns. The fact that feria was going on really made this trip to Sevilla as special as it could be because we had the chance to not only see a beautiful city, but also one of the biggest festivals in Spain and take part in a long-standing Spanish tradition.

Of course because we were there for a flamenco festival, we made sure we saw several true flamenco shows! We had an insider show us this really neat free flamenco bar that had nightly performances, yummy sangria, and the best green olives I have ever had! We went there both nights and were treated to two different performances of amazing flamenco skill and passion. Flamenco is a combination of hand clapping, stomping, singing, dancing, skirt swishing, intricate arm movements, and a variety of instruments (such as guitar, cassanets, flute, etc). The dancers moved with such strength and passion that you couldn’t take your eyes off of them and the control over their feet and hands was amazing; It is such a beautiful dance and so open to the interpretation, whim, and feeling of the dancer that it immediately draws you in.

Although probably my favorite part was probably just the overall atmosphere of feria and the costumes, we also saw a lot of really neat sights in Sevilla. We wandered through the cramped streets of the old quarter (and even squeezed our car through them), saw the infamous bullring, and walked all across our Sevilla tourism map! Sevilla is probably most known for its towering cathedral, which is the biggest gothic cathedral EVER constructed and the third largest cathedral in the world (2nd only to St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and St. Paul’s cathedral in London). Its sheer size is staggering, but the best part for me was La Giralda, the bell tower that provided an excellent view of the entire city. We also visited the Real Alcazar de Sevilla, an ancient Moorish palace (built with similar decorations and designs as The Alhambra) and beautiful garden area in the center of the city, which is still the King and Queen’s official residence in Sevilla. This palace has such intricate tiling and carvings literally covering every floor, wall, ceiling, window, and door and it is so breathtaking to see the ways in which simple construction materials were molded to form a palace of such splendor.

Oh, did I mention we drove to Sevilla? As in…in a car! We figured out how to rent a car and get down there and it was so much fun to take a road trip! We ended up with a nice sized (although box-like) car and it was a cozy ride up and back…that’s right, everyone…I drove in SPAIN! And lived to tell about it! The Spanish drivers are a bit crazy and use their horns ALL THE TIME! But after I got used to all the roundabouts, different traffic signs, strange lanes (or lack thereof), and pushy Spanish drivers, I remembered how much I love taking road trips! We had a really great time and the car worked really well for us – although, we did get lost once on the way back home and detoured an hour or so…but, we also stumbled across the town of Avila, home to the biggest fortress in Spain! So that was a pleasant surprise – driving through a massive Spanish fortress at 2:00 in the morning!

Other random Sevilla experiences…

There were constantly Gypsy ladies carrying around some kind of grass/plant that they would try to give to you as a “gift” and then charge you for taking it! Watch out for them – so sneaky!

Feria was so crazy because people were out ALL the time – one morning we got up around 8:00-ish and passed tons of people walking home for the night! We weren’t quite that hardcore, but we did stay out at Feria until 4:00 one night and there were still literally thousands of people wandering around! AT 4:00 IN THE MORNING! I don’t mean kids or teens or young crowds, I mean babies and four year olds and grandparents and moms and dads and families and groups of older women and teenagers – EVERYBODY! It was so interesting to see all of those people meandering around at the fairgrounds in their traditional dress so early in the morning, eating and drinking and playing games and just celebrating being Spanish!

We felt a bit homeless because we were living half out of our car and half out of a friend’s friend’s house, so we definitely got ready in a couple of obliging grocery store or hotel bathrooms, (a friend might have even washed her hair in the sink…) and dozed off in a couple of sunny parks. But it was fun to have our own car and make our own decisions on everything without having to wait around for buses or planes or a huge group of people.

Also, (see photo) I got ESPANA toro underwear! Great souvenir! J

We did the Macarena on Macerna street (picture)!

And of course, tried our hand at our own version of Flamenco dancing in front of the Sevilla Cathedral!

All in all – flamenco dancing, street wandering, getting ready in bathrooms, catching a few hours of uncomfortable sleep at a time, sight hopping, churro eating, sangria drinking, picture posing, fair-ride riding, sun basking, feet aching, paella munching, dress envying – everything, we had a fabulous trip and I loved Sevilla. I don’t know if it was because of Feria and all the Flamenco or because of the great road trip or just the sunshine, but Sevilla was one of my favorite places I have visited in Spain! And when you come to Spain, you should try your darndest to get here for Feria de Abril in Sevilla because it is well-worth the trek, whatever the distance may be!

I can’t think of anything else, I can’t hardly eat anything else, and I long to see my love again…these are all the symptoms, right? I am in love…and obsessed. I have found the most amazing shop in all of Pamplona. It beats out any restaurant, any clothing store, and tourist shop you can find. This little spot of gold that now holds my heart is named Beatrice’s and is home to the most delicious pastries I have ever tasted. It has large chocolate and fruit muffins (Oh man….I am drooling already), dozens of types of tiny cookies, cakes, doughnuts, and…mouthwatering, gooey baby chocolate croissants that I just can’t get enough of. It is the kind of place I go into and know that for this…for Beatrice…it would be worth it to waddle back to the States with an extra 20 pounds around my middle. That is how good it is – it actually makes you wish you were fat! J If you want proof that it is best in the world, listen to this…this pastry shop has a line. Yep! A line…outside of a pastry shop. Sometimes the wait is up to half an hour and still people flock to it. I have never been to a pastry shop with a line before (and trust me, I have been to a lot of pastry shops) and this one is the only one that is worth it! Seriously, you should fly to Spain just to try the pastries…but while you are here, you should spend some time with me…any takers? J

Second only to the free tapas is The Alhambra. It is beautifully landscaped and sports a great view of the rest of the city, including the Alabycin (the old gypsy quarter with hundreds of small white houses dotting a mountainside). The most spectacular part of the Alhambra was certainly the Nassrid Palace. The entire interior was covered in either individually painted and fitted together mosaic pieces or intricately carved stone or plaster. Every single wall, every ceiling, every floor was covered in something beautiful, time-consuming and together it produced a staggering effect. The sheer magnitude of work that went into it is astounding. The palace took 200 yeas to finish, which means that the king who commissioned it never even saw it in a fraction of its final glory. They say that The Alhambra represents the way the Moorish Kings wanted to be seen by the world; the outside is sheer stone: solid and strong, unwavering and no-nonsense, but the inside is intimate and beautiful and breathtaking and inviting. They say that it is a lesson to each of us to show our enemies (and the rest of the world) strength, bravery, and calm and to show those you love your true beauty, vulnerability, tenderness, and inner spirit. I thought that was a really amazing metaphor and it so perfectly describes The Alhambra.

Granada (and southern Spain) was so different from Pamplona (and northern Spain) mostly because of the strong Arabic influence in the south. There were tons of vendors with rugs, teas, Aladdin-pants, hookah pipes, and genie lamps. The pastries were a lot different as well – more flaky and Baklava-ish. I also frequented several “Teterias” (or little tea houses) with intricately designed glass cups, silver teapots, and rugs covering every wall. I loved them! I even tried (and really enjoyed) a new drink…I found it by accident actually because I order “tea with milk,” which in Pamplona (and the States) will get you regular tea with a bit of milk in it. In Granada however, I received tea actually steeped in milk! No water to be seen, and it was actually very good! I hopped around Granada’s many cathedrals, popped in and out of teterias, tried a variety of Arabian Pastries, bought a nifty red bag with an elephant on it, and even went rock climbing while I was in Granada and I would recommend that town to anyone! The culture is so vastly different from northern Spain that if you are visiting Spain, you have to hit at least one city in each half to get a full picture of this awesome country!

I also took a fast day trip to Cordoba, where I saw the largest Mosque in Spain. The Mezquita was originally built a Mosque on the rubble of an old cathedral and since then has switched back and forth between the two several times…so now it is an interesting combination of Catholic/Islamic, Gothic/Arabic influences. In Cordoba, I also visited the Alcazabar de Los Reyes, a famous palace all the Christian Kings stayed at in Spain and the spot that Columbus first asked permission to explore the Americas (beautiful gardens). I even tasted Salmorejo, a thick cold tomato soup particular to that area and green olives, which Andalusia is famous for.

It was a really interesting trip and I got to see a lot in a relatively short period of time…Irish castles, Moorish palaces, cathedrals galore, gorgeous gardens, orange trees, olive fields, Port cities, parades, celebrations, a dozen different kinds of pastries and drinks (I now can make real Irish coffees), and some really great people! It was a wonderful spring break, and although it is nice to be back in Pamplona and resting…I am already off again this Saturday to San Sebastian (a famous beach town just a few short hours by bus) to wiggle my toes in the sand, wade up to my knees, and wander the streets of yet another unknown town.

While in Barcelona, I also visited the massive Citadel Park, which includes a lake you can rent a rowboat on (I needed a lover’s eyes to gaze into on this one…darn it!) and probably a hundred different types of plant species, not to mention a zoo and several museums. We also visited the Palau de la Musica Catalunya, a gorgeous music hall lit with almost all natural lighting due to a giant stained-glass, domed ceiling. I would love to go back and see a concert there some time, and just soak up the music and gaze at the beautiful walls, ceiling, and mosaics. What else…we went on a boat ride around Barcelona’s port to get a bit of a different view of the city and we climbed Montjuic again to see the National Palace and a great view of Barcelona. Basically it is just such a fascinating place with so much to see and do, great museums, delicious food, and a plethora of opportunities for whatever strikes your fancy!

The next day we headed off to Cobh, an even smaller, quaint fishing port town about 20 minutes from Cork. Cobh, pronounced Cove, was originally named Cove and then had the name changed to Queenstown (when the Queen’s feet first touched Irish soil…in this little town) and now to Cobh (which is Cove in Gaelic). This town is known worldwide as Queenstown and it is the site of many odd, but famous departures. As the biggest port in Ireland and for a long time the biggest port in Europe, this city saw several million emigrants depart Ireland during the potato famine, shipped convicts to Australia, crammed passengers into “coffin ships” for passage to America, and watched the Lusitanian sink offshore. In fact, Annie Moore and her two brothers, who were the first immigrants documented by Ellis Island, also left from Cobh to escape poverty in Ireland. But really the town is mostly known as the last port of call for the Titanic; that’s right my friends, I stood on the harbor where the last 150 Irish passengers boarded that giant ship before it took off to its tragic end. That was pretty neat! There was jus so much history packed into one tiny little town that it was so fun to see!

On our last day in Cork, we took a day trip to the Blarney Castle, which houses the infamous Blarney Stone. Now, legend has it that whoever kisses the Blarney Stone will be able to speak more eloquently from now on…hmm…as is evidence by this rambling blog, it might be wearing off on me! The Blarney Stone is at the top of the castle and you actually have to lean out backwards over the castle edge in order to kiss the stone! The castle itself was really interesting and it was fascinating to imagine it actually being fully functioning and serving hundreds of guests. The grounds around Blarney where also really neat and it was a sunny (although terribly windy) day so that was a nice change of whether from rain. After Cork, we headed back to Dublin for a quick trip to the pint-shaped Guinness brewery and museum, another wander through the streets, and a very long night in the airport before we headed back to our beloved Spain!

So, if you take any stock in the advice of yours truly, when you get to Ireland…DO head to Galway (or another smallish town) for St. Patrick’s Day, definitely grab a couple pints of Murphy’s (good luck finding it anywhere else!), head to Doolin Village and take Karl’s walk to the Cliffs of Moher, and stop by Cobh for your fill of history! I wasn’t that impressed with Dublin, although the Guinness brewery is a must see! Also, see if you can’t get up North to see the Giant’s Causeway…I have heard it is beautiful and we didn’t quite get there! Send me a picture if you see it! J

After our St. Patrick’s Day party we still hopped out of bed bright and early to catch a bus to the beautiful Doolin Village, a tiny town tucked back in the mountains a few hours walk from the Cliffs of Moher. The was actually my very favorite place that we went on our whole trip, which is why it gets its own spotlight blog! We checked into the rustic Allie River Hostel, chatted with the manager Karl, and headed off on “Karl’s Walk” to the Cliffs of Moher. Karl assured us that this walk was much better than going on the actual road and that we should hit the Cliffs in a few hours…he then proceeded to give us a series of directions that sounded something like this… “Cross the river and turn right, head to the fork in the road and take another right, then you will come to a fence that says ‘DANGEROUS CLIFFS AHEAD’ – cross that fence, keep walking and pass an abandoned village on your left, go past the castle in the distance, when you get to another fence take a right to avoid the muddy cowfield…” and so on and so on…needless to say, we couldn’t remember half of the directions, so we kept asking each other silly things like “was that a right after the first abandoned house?” or “are we supposed cross this ravine in the middle of the path or follow it?” But we trekked on!

Now accustomed to the massive rain showers and wind storms Ireland frequently dolled out, we had each worn about three layers beneath our coats, which we quickly stripped off as Ireland chose to bless this one day with gorgeous warm rays of sun. However, we soon decided to stash our stuff in one of the fortress ruins we passed and get it on the way back. Sounds easy enough, right? WRONG! And this is how we first met with THE BOG. As it turns out, almost all Irish fields are covered with a thick layer of peat grass that soaks up all moisture and simultaneously make it appear dry and fluffy…but as we soon discovered, a swamp of muddy cow-crud water was lurking just beneath the surface! Knee deep in sludge, with no hope of salvaging shoes or pants, we hiked on…and kept on Karl’s path. We think it might have been a conspiracy to see how many tourists he could convince to go on his path. We hiked uphill for about two hours, but the scenery was absolutely breathtaking and we were hiking about a meter from the edge of the cliffs, so it was just fabulous. The sun shone and the bog water soon eeked out of our shoes, and by the end of the trek we were practically dry. After hiking along the edge of the cliffs for so long, we were a bit disappointed to find the “tourist safe” zone marked off meters from the actual cliffs…it was actually quite funny because in order to get into the safe zone, Katie and I actually climbed INTO the safety area because our hike led us clearly outside the marked safety areas, past several DANGER signs!
But all was well in the end – we munched a quick ice cream cone and readied ourselves to battle with the bog once again. However, this time I am sad to say, I think the bog won! As I was running through the muddy field, I slipped and fell flat on my butt, straight into the bog! Two muddy gloves, a soggy wet bum, and dirt-splattered jeans later, we stumbled back to the hostel for some much needed showers! It really was my favorite day because the sun blessed our FIVE our journey, we saw the amazing cliffs and definitely had the better way to see them (right alongside instead of in the safe zone), and I laughed so hard my abs were sore in the morning. So, if you ever go to Ireland…and head to Doolin Village…and stay at the Allie River Hostel…don’t forget to take Karl’s Path to the Cliffs of Moher…just make sure you are ready to fight the bog!

My goodness, My Guinness!

So we start at the beginning…heading off to Ireland. Ireland showed us a really good time, and if you ever get the chance to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day there – do it in a heartbeat! We flew into Dublin, but headed off the next day to Athlone, a tiny town without much to say for itself except that it marks the dead center of Ireland and is home to the oldest bar in Ireland – Sean’s pub, open since 900 A.D. (see picture). I had my first Irish pint at Sean’s Pub and tasted the local flavor of Smithwicks…nice and light compared to Guinness, but I would later discover my favorite Irish beer is certainly Murphys! Galway was next on the list and our St, Patrick’s Day choice! Katie’s friends were studying in Galway so we had some semi-locals to show us around, although I admit we mostly saw the inside of pubs!

St. Patrick’s day was so much fun simply because everyone was wrapped up in the spirit of the day. Actually, in Ireland, St. Patrick’s used to be more of a family/religious holiday (like America’s Thanksgiving) and has only in the last 20 years added on an element of crazy-party-ness. We started our day at about 11:00, jostling for a spot lining the main street for the parade. Everyone was decked out with green shirts, leprechaun hats, sparkly pom-poms, stickers, and other (some quite hideous) St. Patrick’s Day paraphernalia. We rocked our leprechaun tattoos…but decided to steer clear of the giant foam hats…make your own choice when you go…But, all of that just added to the experience for me. Everywhere you looked there were Irish flag capes or furry green headbands or oversized green glasses. The parade itself was pretty funny because it was a combo of really cool Irish floats (Viking ships to commemorate the landing on Ireland, groups of 10 feet tall snakes to remind us that St. Patrick supposedly drove all the snakes out of Ireland – really, there aren’t any snakes in Ireland at all…so maybe St. Patrick did do it!) or traditional memorabilia (St. Patrick alter, procession of flags) and smaller home-town groups such as a kid’s hurling team, boys boxing club, high school dance team, or 100 elementary school kids playing Ireland’s national anthem on RECORDERS! (Gotta love the recorder…apparently a universal elementary school subject). The parade ended with a large number of police cars, fireman trucks, and street cleaner cars that were lost as the crowds closed in around them to make their way toward the pubs. We had our first drink at 12:30 – but hey, when it is Irish coffee…that is kinda a morning drink, right? It was coffee after all! We also hit up an amazing fish and chips joint that had been recommended to us in Athlone; we had to wait about half an hour to get in, but I can honestly say those were the best darn fish and chips I have ever had! If you are ever in Galway, get yourself over to Mc Donagh’s! Yum!

After a bit o’ lunch, we started our pub hopping! There were so many people milling around from ages 2 to 92 that we had to wiggle our way in and out of each place. But the live Irish jig music and atmosphere was way worth it! It was amid all of this madness that I had my first Guinness – which is quite tasty, but a pint feels like a three course meal because it is so thick and heavy. My favorite part of drinking a Guinness is that first sip, which is all frothy and rich, and even leaves a bit of froth on your lip…mmm…We had a great time meandering around, but you can only shove your way through crowds for so long, and my tummy could only hold so many three-course meals so we eventually headed our way back home for a yummy super and nice snooze! It was a really great day and I would definitely recommend Galway instead of the more touristy Dublin if you are planning on heading to the Great Emerald Isle for St. Patrick’s festivities.

On a totally unrelated subject, I ate Mexican food here for the first time, and let me tell you Spanish Mexican food is not so good. We started our meal by receiving the standard “chips and salsa” although really we got about 10 chips on a tiny plate with a small bowl of heated-up tomato paste. We ordered some appetizer that turned out to be halves of potatoes with different toppings like veggies or huge chunks of melted cheese. Then the main course (we thought it was enchiladas, because that is what we ordered) ended up being a soupy lasagna-type dish: one layer of shredded chicken, one layer of mashed sweet green tomatoes, and a thick layer of baked melted white cheese. Enchiladas? I don’t think so. Still it was tasty, and I suppose that you just have to learn to roll with the punches…the funny thing is this happens all the time, especially with food. We are constantly ordering something, thinking it will be one thing, and receiving something entirely different. For example, a friend tried to order a hotdog and ended up with a plate of unidentified meat, lettuce with yellowish dressing that resembled pee, and cheese croquets! Another friend ordered a Sandwich with Calamari on it one night and liked it so much she tried to order the same thing again, and wound up with a bowl of calamari soaked in it’s own ink sauce! I accidentally ordered pumpkin-fish soup the other day (which is actually quite good) but I thought it was goulash. You just never know what you’re gonna get. But sometimes it works out for the best…we stumbled upon the most amazing dessert called Goshua (we think, now we can’t find any recipes for it) that is made in the Basque region with a layer or thick whip cream, a thin layer of sponge cake, a layer of thicker pudding creme, and some carmelized sugar on top. It was to die for…so, you know, maybe it’s okay to order without knowing what you get!

And then sometimes…you will try to find a way to say exactly what you want to say in Spain, and as I was told by my Spanish teacher, “sometimes your words just don’t exist.” The thing is, they are words that need to exist! For example, after spending 10 minutes describing a sticker (it is something that goes on your clothes, kids love them, they could be gold stars for doing something good, they have little pictures on the front, and sticky glue-stuff on the back, etc) I found out that there is NOT a word for sticker, and I could use “pegamento” – directly translated, this means “little gluey thing” – if I needed to use this word! That doesn’t seem to be a good substitute if you ask me.

In other Spanish randomness, a roommate also bought pillowcases that are open on both ends…so the pillow can fall right through. If anyone has a good idea what use that would be, let me know…

We also tried to iron a shirt the other day (only one setting on the iron and no additional knobs to turn) and it made the shirt so crisp that it broke – literally cracked along a crease and just ripped straight through…good if you are going for the rugged gangster look, not so good for a white button down.

Our oven has 6 knobs (two of them don’t turn, including the one that changes the temperature on our oven) and none of them have any writing on them. So we tend to cook whole pizzas in about 3 minutes.

Hmmm…that might be all the Spanish oddities you can handle for now. Trust me, there are many more coming. Most of the random cultural difference are easy to adjust to, some are very frustrating, some don’t make any sense at all, and a great percentage of the time we just burst into laughter and say “well, nothing makes sense in Spain!”