La Teoría de La Conspiración

(La Alhambra in Granada, Spain)

Yesterday was a half-hearted attempt at productivity. I didn't get through much homework, but I did finish some resume/cover letter/internship work. At about 3, I decided I needed a break, so I decided to go activate my new debit card (the one BOA replaced my Lisboa-captured card with) at one of the nearby ATMs. I tried the first ATM, and nothing happened, so I tried a second, and then a third. Nada. Now I was worried and went back to Julia's and tried calling the activation system over the phone. The card still wouldn't activate, so I called customer service. After waiting on hold for a half-hour, I finally got to explain my problems to someone. The woman checked the system and said that all three of my cards (the one still in Lisboa, the one I have, and another one that's in the mail) are all permanently locked. She comforted me by saying, "That's weird, I've never even heard of that before." She checked with her supervisor, who also had never seen such a problem before, and she told me that since they can't unlock a permanently locked card, they would have to send another one to Norwich, so that it could be forwarded on. I asked her what would happen if that card gets here and doesn't work either, and she said, "That shouldn't happen." So I'm sure it won't. . .

This whole process took much longer than expected, and although I only had about 7 euros, I needed to hurry to meet Jennifer (my intercambio) by 7. We met at Sol and she showed me around downtown, pointing out good restaurants and things to do. I discovered on this walk that the Royal Palace, Sol, El Rastro, Gran Via, and even Atocha are all very close together. I had thought they were in different corners of the city - go figure. Jennifer and I headed over to a park where there is an Egyptian museum and some old Egyptian buildings to look at. We passed about three botellóns on the way, (the big street parties that Spain is famous for) and after taking pictures of the monuments we walked back to Sol, passed a mariachi band, and then stopped at a tapas bar, Cantina Alhambra, for dinner.

We ordered bravas (potatoes that come with a spicy tomato sauce and an aeoli sauce) and morcilla (blood sausage). Our dishes also came with bread toasted with olive oil and mini ham sandwiches. Everything was really good - even the blood sausage, which I was not planning on liking. We were there for a good hour and a half chatting, and after we paid, we decided to walk down Gran Via to the Atocha area. We passed some interesting neighborhoods, with Jennifer pointing things out all the way, and even passed Kapital (the seven-story discotheque which I am determined to go to at some point). At about midnight, we got back on our designated trains and headed home.

I had to get off the train at Nuevos Ministerios and switch to the metro, so I stuck my ticket into the tourniquet machine, like I usually do and the doors opened, like they usually do. But my ticket did not pop back out of the slot like it usually does. Problem. That ticket is a month pass that costs 33.5o euros (like $50!) and November is not over yet. I just stared at the machine for while, but nothing happened and it didn't seem like my ticket was going to be showing up anytime soon. So I was now standing in a holding area between two sets of tourniquets and there were no security or maintenance people wandering around. I needed to fork over another euro to buy a ticket out and I now had about only 1 euro left. Because I didn't see anyone helpful, I got back on the metro to Cuzco and told the ticket lady there what had happened (all in Spanish, which was very complicated - this story involves a lot of past tense and weird vocabulary). I asked her if she could print me another copy of the ticket and she said no. So I asked her what I should do and she said go back to Nuevos Ministerios and find a security guard who could call someone with the keys to the tourniquets.

I got back to Nuevos Ministerios and found a security guard (which took some time because Nuevos Ministerios is one of the biggest metro/train stations in Madrid). As planned, a maintenance guy followed me back down to the tourniquets, but unfortunately, he said he didn't have the key to my tourniquet. Lucky me. I asked him who did, and he said nobody because it was too late (it was now about 1 am). So he told me to write down the tourniquet number and come back tomorrow morning. No money and no metro card. My three theories: there's a government plot against me, the FBI is secretly testing me for job, or Julia's rebelling by shutting me out of Madrid.

So I dragged my sore feet (I hadn't been wearing my most comfortable shoes this whole time) back onto the metro and went back to Julia's. I called Alicia, and it was good to catch up with the BC news. I then set my alarm (as I was accumulating quite a to-do list) and passed out.

Today, I woke up an hour later than planned and after doing some homework and eating breakfast, walked back to Nuevos Ministerios (with my sore feet) and searched for a helpful-looking person. I had been practicing my story in Spanish in my head, so people seemed to be understanding me alright. I got back to tourniquet number 2167 and waved down the security guards. I prepped my story with my usual, "Please excuse my Spanish - it's only so-so," and started in on my well-rehearsed dialogue. Then one of them whipped my ticket out of his pocket. I said, "Yay!" and they told me not to worry at all - my Spanish was great. I like them - helpful and full of compliments.

As I currently have no access to money, Mom very kindly offered to send me some through Western Union. So I took the metro to the closest Western Union, and after a slow conversation with the money lady, (there was a solid wall of glass between us and, of course, we were speaking Spanish) I got my money and headed back to Julia's. We ate lunch, where we had a conversation about all the great things Franco did. There was less crime, less poverty, and less dissent back then, Julia said. Quote of the day: "I wouldn't really call Franco a dictator. . ." I wasn't going to argue her.

I then studied Spanish for four hours and only got through my notes once; there is going to be a lot of information on this test. Julia was out most of the afternoon, but came back for dinner. We chatted about art; she said her parents had a "precious collection." I'll bet. She went out again at about 10. I'm practically a hermit in comparison.

Una Semana de Chocolate

(A view of Granada, Spain)

So this week has been fun. I've cried about 5 times, eaten a solid 20 euros worth of chocolate, and avoided anything that mildly resembled exercise. Let me explain:

Monday: After a nice, long day of classes, I returned home for dinner with Julia. Here's how our conversation about world history went. . .

Julia: "Well, America wouldn't even exist if it weren't for Spain."

Me: "Well, nobody would exist if it weren't for Africa."

Julia: "What are you talking about?"

Me: "You know - how humans started in Africa."

Julia: "In Egypt?"

Me: "No, Central Africa, I think. That's where they found the oldest human body."

Julia: "You mean Adam?"

Me: (pause and cautious head tilt) "No, that's not what I mean at all."

Julia: "Well, if you don't believe that Adam was the first human, then you aren't a Catholic."

Me: "You don't believe in evolution?"

Julia: "I believe in the Bible. Everything else is theoretical. You can't believe everything some American scientist tells you."

Me: "I don't believe the discovery was made by just one American. I think it's a fairly well-supported theory."

Julia: "There is no evidence to support that theory."

She ended up calling one of her historian friends, who seemed to agree with me. She still avoided apologizing, though. I decided that the Julia situation was not improving and that I would be visiting Ana, the BC advisor, the next day.

Tuesday: After my first class, I trooped on up to Ana's office, where I began to regale her with my most recent Julia-stories. She got upset and started explaining that I was experiencing first-hand, what someone with a Franco-ist mindset is like. After I started crying a second time, she called the housing director, Paloma, and said that I should be moved out of Julia's. Ana told me to come back tomorrow and meet with Paloma and her husband Juan, who would have a gameplan worked out. So after my second class, I went home with my heart pounding. Julia and I sat down for dinner, and surprisingly, had a decent conversation. She even attempted an apology (which oddly enough, did not include the words, "I'm sorry,") so then I felt bad that I had talked to Ana. Meanwhile, chocolate was just evaporating out of the cabinet where it is hidden from Julia.

Wednesday: I got up bright and early to get to Ana's class. We were discussing the Catholic monarchs in Spain and then entered into a short lecture about how, even today, people of high-classes don't except that Spain is a mix of cultures and Franco's regime taught everyone that Spain was essentially the center of the universe. I think Ana's lecture was somewhat influenced by our chat the day before. So after that, most of us had to go and sit through two hours of Historia del Presente. We were discussing the education system in Spain, and I was so bored that I was drawing little apartments in the margins of my notebook and planning where I would put all my furniture. Don't judge.

After lunch, I went back to Ana's office to meet with Paloma and Juan. They started telling me about how they had two families all picked out that I could go and visit and how they could come and help me move all of my stuff when Julia wasn't around. They said they would have to call her first and try to get her to return the November check. This whole conversation was turning my stomach, and I told them I was awfully nervous about this and about how I wasn't sure whether moving is worth all the trouble when there's only about a month of school left. They said they would give me a couple more days to think it over and this was when I started crying a third time.

But life was looking up as I skipped Economics to go on the BC trip to the opera. The performance was held in El Auditorio, a big concert hall in Madrid, and the opera was La Vida Breve. It wasn't a full-out spectacle of an opera. There were two opening orchestra pieces, one of which was composed by Ana's brother. Her whole family was there are she said she started crying when she heard it. The second act was the opera itself. There wasn't scenery or many props, and everything was performed in front of the orchestra members, who sat right on the stage. Even though we couldn't see everything, (our cheap tickets were actually above and behind the stage) the singing was awesome and there were some dancers who really good, too. The opera was set in Granada, so it just happened to be relevant to Ana's class.

I got back home at about 10, and was relieved that I could eat alone. But to my surprise, as soon as I finished, the doorbell rang and in walked a woman who identified herself as Maria, Francesco's mother. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this was the Princess herself, live and in person. I was already in my PJs, so I just looked as glamorous as could be, but she spoke in English, so I could at least communicate properly. She seemed nice enough, but she only just stopped by to get Francesco and then was out the door again.

Once I was all cleaned up and settled in my bedroom, Julia came in and told me that my friends from Italy wouldn't be able to stay anymore (even though I had asked her this twice before and everything had been okay). When I asked her why, she simply said, "There would be problems if they stayed here." So I went to bed in a huff, ready to move out again.

Thursday: I only had one class today, but afterwards, a bunch of the BC kids were meeting Ana at the Museo de Thyssen for guided tour. It was a really nice museum and Ana explained to us certain paintings that we will probably see again on our final. I do like looking at art when it's explained to me, and Ana used a microphone that was connected to our individual ear-pieces, which magically made me understand everything she said, (and no, it wasn't translating her into English). After the Thyssen, Lizzie, Elisha, Steve, and I walked to Plaza de España, where I caught the metro back to Julia's. Nothing thrilling in the dinner conversation; I steered away from any potentially controversial topics. She did seem to think I was lying about the opera having two opening acts, though, and I had to bring out the program before she believed me.

Today: I woke up determined to make a decision about whether I was moving out of Julia's or not. I pondered, asked Baquita (the maid) for advice, and pondered some more, and decided to call Paloma and ask her to move me. I kind of wanted to be like Harry Potter when he was saved from the Dursleys by the Weasleys. Suddenly, in walks Julia and asks if I'm happy here. I froze, thinking she had overheard my conversation with Baquita. Then she said that Paloma had called her and explained that I was unhappy and asked me why. I decided it was now or never, so I went on and on about how I feel like she judges me unfairly and doesn't really like me, and how some of her manners in the US would be considered rude, (I think I even managed to say all of this somewhat eloquently in Spanish). She apologized and said she loved me (which I found awkward) and then brought me a handful of chocolate (which she has been hiding somewhere or else I would have found it by now). This is very uncharacteristic of Julia, but I hope she stays this way. We had decent conversations at both lunch and dinner, so maybe the situation will begin to improve. This is one of those aforementioned roller-coasters of emotion.

¡Más fotografías!

I uploaded my pictures from Córdoba and Granada onto the Shutterfly site.

Here's the link: http://gigiinmadrid.shutterfly.com

Enjoy!

Día Tres en Córdoba y Granada

(A home in the Albaicín of Granada, Spain)

We woke up on Sunday to another one of those wonderful continental breakfasts and I stuffed in as many chocolate croissants as is (somewhat) socially acceptable. We then headed upstairs to pack up all of our stuff and met in the lobby to put our luggage in the storage room and check out. Robert met up with the group and we left to take a walk around the Albaicín (the historic neighborhood).

We learned that the Albaicín is protected by UNESCO as a world heritage site, and therefore has become quite the neighborhood to invest in. People who buy homes there must follow certain building rules to preserve the feel of the area, so all the millionaires are moving in and paying the "real" families who lived there before to move out. So while the buildings of the neighborhood are being preserved, the people of the neighborhood are not. The area used to be quite rundown and didn't even have running water until the 1960s. It is built on a hill, and the streets are very windy and steep. We climbed quite a bit, (and it was still very hot), but at the top was a great view of Granada and the Alhambra.

We stopped at an old home turned restaurant so we could see what the inside of the houses looked like (or the courtyard, at least) and then travelled on over to El Monasterio de Santa Isabel la Real. This is a pretty simply decorated convent, as all the money in Granada went towards building the Capilla Real. I can't remember anything else about the history of the convent as Robert suddenly mentioned that in the convent live baking nuns who sell their goods to the public by means of a little turntable. Now I've seen Samantha Brown do this on the Travel Channel, so I was pretty excited. You go up to this little wooden door and ring a bell. A nun on the other side will answer, and you open the door and see a little wooden turntable. The nuns can't be seen by the public, so they show you what baked goods are available by spinning the collection around for you to see. You can then ask what the prices are and place an order. You put the money on the turntable and spin it back around, and they will spin back your boxes of cookies. It's really quite a lot of fun. We all lined up like the diligent students we are and a few of us ordered something with Robert's help. I got a bag of lemon muffins. I also decided I would make a great nun.

We then wandered back down the hill and ended up back near Plaza Nueva for lunch. A bunch of the BC kids stopped to get a poster of their names written in Arabic, and after that, Kevin, Jeff, James, and I stopped at a kebab restaurant. I ordered yet another falafel kebab, (which was delectable) and we ate outside in the Plaza. There was a marching band that went by at one point, so that was cool, and after we finished our kebabs, we stopped at an ice cream shop. I got a scoop of chocolate brownie ice cream, which kept me occupied until we got back to the hotel.

We all grabbed our stuff and got back on the bus. I sat with Kevin on the way home and all of us watched Juana La Loca, a Spanish movie that tied into the history of Granada. After that movie, (I missed about half an hour in the middle due to drowsiness - and then was very confused for the end) we watched The Orphanage, a Spanish horror movie. I saw that with mom and Hayley when we were in Alaska, so I managed to get some Econ reading done on the bus.

We got back to Madrid at about 7 pm, and after taking the metro home with Amanda, got back to Julia's at about 8. Julia and I sat down for dinner and were talking about my trip. I mentioned that I liked the food in Granada because it reminded me of the food in Morocco.

Her curt reply was, "No."

I said, "No, what?"

Julia: "The food in Granada is Andalusian."

Me: "Oh, I know - but it has Arab influences."

Julia: "No. The food in Granada is Andalusian."

Me: "But it is very similar to the food we ate in Morocco."

Julia: "No."

Keep in mind that I don't think she's ever been to Morocco and doesn't seem to know what Moroccan food is whenever I bring it up. It's good to be home!

Día Dos en Córdoba y Granada

(Eva Esquivel, a gypsy flamenco dancer in Granada, Spain)

On Saturday, Katherine and I headed downstairs at about 9 am to grab some of the continental breakfast from the hotel. In my opinion, continental breakfasts in Europe are far superior to those in the US. The hotel had a wonderful spread of warm pastries, which included chocolate filled croissants. There was also ham and cheese for sandwiches, yogurts, cereal, and fruit. I was pleasantly surprised.

The group met at 9:45 and walked to the Capilla Real (or the Royal Chapel) where we met Robert, one of Ana's friends and a professor at the University of Granada. He was our tour guide for the day and gave all the talks in English. Yay! La Capilla Real is where Isabella and Ferdinand are buried as well as Juana La Loca and her husband, Philip. Isabella and Ferdinand were originally buried in the Monastery of St. Francis in the La Alhambra, as the Capilla was still being constructed when they died. But as stated in Isabella's will, they were to buried in the Capilla upon its completion. During the Napoleonic invasions, the coffins were opened and looted and when Granada later flooded, everything in the unsealed coffins got pretty nasty. You can still go see the coffins though. The Capilla is also very nicely decorated. There is a huge iron gate that used to separate the nobles from the commoners, and it is one of the first gates signed by the artist. Before the Renaissance and humanism, such artists weren't given credit for their work, but this gate prominently displays the message, "I was made by the master Bartholomew." There is also a huge altar space with very elaborate scenes from the Bible (with Charles V disguised as a wise-man - he wanted to be included in the decorations) and the sacristy has been converted into a museum. The coolest thing in this museum is Isabella's jewelry box where she stored the jewels that she ended up giving to Columbus to fund his journeys to Asia/America.

Next, we walked up a really steep, mountain-like hill to La Alhambra, a fort built in the 8th century, which became a contained town of Arab palaces in the 13th century. We stopped at the gate where Robert explained the ancient security system. To break down the doors, invaders would have to walk under a covered area. If invaders reached the door, the Arab soldiers could pour hot oil down on them from the covered area above. You can't see any of this from the road, and attackers wouldn't figure out the system until too late.

We then walked into the Alhambra and Robert explained that the much of it was built with money collected from the Jews and Muslims after the Catholic occupation. Muslims and Jews could stay in Spain if they converted to Catholicism and paid extra taxes, but when they revolted in 1568 and lost, everyone had to leave. When the French later invaded Spain, they thought the Alhambra would be the perfect place for a military district and decided to knock down all of the Arab palaces in the process. During the process an Arab, who had only one hand, went around and disconnected as much of the dynamite as he could, so the palaces that remain are thanks to him. The French got caught up in Russia and never finished their construction. Eventually the whole place fell into disrepair until it was later refurbished and used for a music festival in the 1950s.

The place is pretty cool. It's spread out over all these hills with great views of Granada. There are lots of gardens, aqueducts, old ruins, and restored palaces. We learned a lot about the history of everything and had plenty of time to explore on our own, too. I also learned that gypsies live in caves in the mountains and are very tricky. They will offer you a sprig of rosemary and then grab your hand to read your palm. Then you need to pay, and since coins are bad luck, the least you can give them is 5 euros. We all watched a woman have this very scam happen to her. I could make a decent living doing that. . .

A bunch of us then went out to lunch at a kebab restaurant in La Plaza Nueva. I got a falafel kebab (which is falafel and salad stuffed in a pita with tasty sauces) and loved it. I'm a big fan of kebab. We went back to the hotel for a minute, turned on the TV, and saw the Disney Channel playing their Halloween marathon - I hadn't even remembered it was Halloween.

Then after that we were on our way to the Hamam (the Arab baths). This Hamam was much more of a spa than the authentic one in Morocco (although the effect was altered by their attempts at Halloween decorations which included people walking around in masks and paper pumpkins hanging on the walls). There were a bunch of pools with different temperatures, ranging from really cold to toasty hot, and you just go soak for a while. There were no Moroccan ladies surprising you by dumping buckets of boiling water on your head or scrubbing off the top layer of your skin, so this was a bit more relaxing than the authentic baths. These baths were in a dark cave-like room and there was this relaxing music playing in the background. There was also a room off to the side with candies and Moroccan tea, so the whole experience was quite nice. To top it all off, I had my first-ever official massage. It was somewhat awkward, because I didn't realize massages are generally topless, and I wore a one-piece, which complicated things a bit, but after that was settled, the massage was really great. I would highly recommend one - although I would also recommend wearing a bikini.

After the baths, Katherine and I walked back to the hotel, stopping to buy some chocolate for our candy-eating Halloween fiesta later that night. We had quite a bit of free time so we wandered around the Albaicín and did some souvenir shopping. I bought myself two Moroccan lamps (which would have been a whole lot cheaper in Morocco, but oh well), some earrings, and a pasta bowl made in Granada. I am really starting to acquire a collection of souvenir pottery. I have my pasta bowl, a pitcher from Segovia, and four bowls from Morocco. Those will be fun to transport back to the US.

We stopped to grab dinner at a tapas/bocadillos place. I got a spinach and cheese omlette bocadillo, which was pretty tasty, and a Fanta Naranja. We then had to meet up with the group so that we could walk to the flamenco show where we all had tickets. It was about a half-hour walk from the hotel through a pretty part of Granada, and almost the entire way, I told the advisor, Ana, my Julia stories. I'm not sure how we got on the topic, but she was appalled and said that I should move out. I'm still not sure what to do about this situation.

We got to the flamenco show, which was in El Centro Internacional de Estudios Gitanos (or the International Center for Gypsy Studies). They have a big auditorium (which I liked, because you can see more that way) and behind the stage are these huge windows that overlook the lit-up Alhambra on the opposite mountain. The show was awesome. There was one dancer and four musicians and they were all really impressive. It was also cool to think that they have a school for gypsy studies, (I wonder if they teach them about how coins are bad luck).

After the show, we walked back to La Plaza Nueva, where Lizzie, Katherine, and I sat down at a restaurant for dinner, although I ended up getting a gofre con chocolate (a waffle with chocolate). It was delectable. From the restaurant, we could watch everyone walk by in their Halloween costumes. Halloween is a new holiday in Spain, and the Spaniards haven't quite figured it out yet. They get dressed up in costumes, but because there isn't any tick-or-treating, they just walk around the city. I think not getting candy completely contradicts the whole point of Halloween, but who am I to judge? After a quick stop at the hotel, the three of us walked around looking for a discotheque, but the only one we found looked like it had a dress code and was expensive. So we ended up going back to the hotel and eating the chocolate we had bought earlier and watching more bad Spanish music videos. Happy Halloween!

Día Uno en Córdoba y Granada

(La Catedral de Córdoba in Córdoba, Spain)

This past weekend was the BC class trip to Córdoba and Granada. Friday morning, I set my alarm nice and early so that I could get to the class' meeting place, the Hotel Wellington, by 8 am. Of course, I woke up half an hour past when my alarm went off, so I was slightly crunched for time.

I did get to the bus on time and even had a bus seat to myself, which was wonderful, and I was actually able to sleep during the 5 hour drive to Córdoba. When we got off the bus it was about 85 degrees. The weather channel had failed to mention that it was going to be that hot and I was not dressed for 85 degree weather. I thought I was going to pass out and blamed the Industrial Revolution for starting global warming.

We all went to a restaurant for a typical cordobés lunch which included salmorejo, (a soup similar to gazpacho with ham and egg on top) ensalada, (lettuce with vegetables - you are probably familiar) and flamenquines (which we think was ham wrapped in chicken and deep fried). We also had little Spanish-sized ice cream cups for lunch (meaning there was about 3 spoonfuls in each).

We then split up into groups to tour around Córdoba. Because this was a class trip, we had to listen to explanations of everything and take notes so that we can write an essay later about what we learned. All the explanations are in Spanish, so that leaves me with a whole lot of Internet research. Yipee.

We walked through La Puerta de Almodovar and into the old Arab neighborhood, where you can see all the winding streets and Arab architecture. We stopped at an old Arab house that was converted into a museum and talked about the basic design elements of an Arab home. These homes have a central, open-aired courtyard that has some sort of central water feature. The running water is serene and also provides a means of cleaning before praying to Allah. The courtyard is usually filled with plants or some kind of garden which also provide an element of tranquility. There are rooms that branch off of the four sides of the courtyard, and the two most important rooms are placed on the northern and southern sides. These homes were usually built with tile floors, stucco walls, and wooden roofs. The house we saw was very nice and had plants everywhere. Those water fountains they put in the middle of the courtyard can be dangerous though, as they are usually low to the ground or even just small pools. Many an uncoordinated person has fallen into those, I bet.

We also went to La Catedral de Córdoba, which used to be a huge mosque that has since been converted into a Catholic cathedral. The Arab architecture has been maintained, so there are still columns and plasterwork everywhere - even the Arab scriptures have been left on the walls. But in the conversion, chapels were added around the perimeter of the mosque and a huge altar area was built in the middle. The altar is in a huge domed area completely decorated with elaborate art and sculptures. The two styles are completely different and it's really nifty to see the two so closely interposed.

We had a bit of free time to walk around before we had to get back on the bus so Lizzie, Katherine, Don, and I wandered in and out of the gift shops and stopped for a Coke at a cafe. We were a bit late getting back as we got distracted by the last gift shop. So we hurried across the Puente Romano to the bus. We had another 2 hours on the bus before we got to Granada, so I had plenty of time to fit in another nap.

Because of traffic, the ride took longer than expected, but we eventually got to the Hotel Anacapri on Calle Joaquín Costa. After we dropped our stuff off in our rooms (I ended up sharing a room with Katherine) we met back downstairs in the lobby for an orientation and short walk around the historic neighborhood of Granada, the Albaícin. We saw the Plaza Nueva and the Alhambra (a Arab fortress/city on top of a hill overlooking Granada) lit up at night.

We then had the rest of the night free, so Lizzie, Katherine, and I wandered around the neighborhood. There is a lot if Arab influence, and the shops and restaurants reminded me a lot of Morocco. Even the way the old neighborhood looks was reminiscent of the old neighborhoods in Morocco. After we wandered past about a dozen hooka bars (where most of the other BC kids ended up) we sat down at a restaurant near La Plaza Nueva. I ordered a German hamburger (a hamburger with cheese, mustard, and sauerkraut) which I liked quite a bit. Because we were exhausted after such a long day (I don't know why I was so tired - I slept for probably 6 hours on the bus) we headed back to the hotel. Katherine and I watched Spanish music videos and laughed at how bad they were before we completely crashed.

¡Más fotografías!

I've finally uploaded the pictures from Portugal! Now I'll start working on the ones from Córdoba and Granada. . .

Here's the link: http://gigiinmadrid.shutterfly.com

Enjoy!