Nov 4: Madrid – Maastricht/Achen – Eindhoven – Rijswijk – Leiden

At 3:15am I woke up, put on my shoes and coat, and headed to the bus stop. I arrived in plenty of time for the 4am bus, but Philip had warned me that if I missed this one, I would miss my flight and that just didn’t sound appealing.

The bus dropped me off at the airport stop, which, as Philip had warned, looked nothing like the airport. As instructed, I followed the two women who looked like flight attendants until they went separate directions. I took a chance and went left. Wrong. Oh well. Rather than catching the bus to the terminal, I walked another 20 minutes to the airport and through the other terminals, but I had time.

At the airport I checked in and bought myself a café con leche and a chocolate croissant for breakfast around 5:30am then made my way through the security line and to the gate. After waiting what seemed like forever, we were finally allowed to board the plane. I got to the front of the line and snagged a window seat up front. (RyanAir doesn’t assign seating, so you definitely want to be at the front of the line when traveling in a group so you can sit together. As a single traveler, it’s less important, but window seats are my favorite.)

I fell asleep before the rest of the plane was fully boarded and only barely noticed when the plane finally took off.

I woke up just as we began the initial descent. The pilot announced that we would be landing in Maastricht/Aachen shortly.

…

Now, I was groggy from just having woken up, but I knew that I boarded a plane to Eindhoven, the Netherlands. So why were we landing in Germany?!?

I turned to the girl next to me and asked, Porque vamos a Maastricht? Por la visibilidad. Oh.

…

A few minutes later I turned back to her, Y Despues….? Van a Eindhoven por autobus. Oh. I guess that works.

So something about the visibility in Eindhoven was bad, but they would get us there. I can handle that. It did seem rather silly, though, since it was so clear where we landed. I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad.

The bus returned us to Eindhoven on an endless journey – actually it could have been an hour or three hours – I was a bit delirious from exhaustion and continuously falling in and out of sleep. Realistically it was probably about an hour and fifteen minutes, maybe an hour and a half. But my bed was calling.

When we got to the Netherlands, I knew it. There aren’t really borders anymore now that the EU is in existence, but we drove right into a wall of fog. Thick fog. So thick that the bus slowed down. And that bus was moving – the driver clearly had places to be.

We finally arrived at the airport and I managed to get on the next bus to the train station and then caught the nearest train going in the right direction. I took the Innercity train from Eindhoven to Delft. The fog was everywhere. It was like a scene out of Harry Potter in which the Dementors descend upon all the land. I had planned to tour Delft for a couple of hours, but with the weather I passed that up. I'll go back on a nicer day. In Delft I transferred to a slow train to Rijswijk where the Ministry of Justice is located. After a brief wait, my number was called and I was given my official piece of plastic that says I am a legal resident of the Netherlands until January 2009. That way I can still travel without any re-entry issues. You can stay here for 90 days without a permit, but then cannot return for another 90 days. And it’s actually a pretty sweet souvenir. I waited with some friends who were also there picking up their permits, we commiserated about how far we had to travel for it, then headed back on the train together.

Another 10 minutes on my bike (which I found with relative ease given that I couldn’t quite remember where I had left it 4 days earlier) and I was home! I dropped off my bag, hit up the local Tuesday market to fill my shelf of the fridge and then went to bed for the rest of the afternoon/evening. I had to rest up for the big night….

Nov 3: Madrid – Cordóba – Sevilla – Madrid

It was another early morning as we tried to catch our 7:40am train to Cordóba. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances (namely exhaustion so extensive that the alarm clock rang in vain) we didn’t quite make it. We were able to catch a faster one just 50 minutes later, though, which meant we were only 20 minutes behind schedule. We didn’t have a ton of time in the city, but we did see the main attraction – the Mosque-turned-Cathedral, said by some (Spaniards of course) to be the most important mosque in the world. We also walked along the Roman bridge in Cordóba and wandered the streets of old town – a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Philip kept sneaking into courtyards leading into people’s homes to see the infamous patios with white tiles and flowers because, “It’s ok, they’re proud of them, they want us to come look at them!”

Philip’s family flew in from the States this morning and we met them at the train station. The family enjoyed a 10 minute reunion before Philip and I sprinted to catch our train to Sevilla. His parents and sister would tour the Mosque as well and meet up with us in Sevilla later that afternoon.

In Sevilla, we toured the 3^rd largest church in Europe and the largest Gothic church in the world. No joke, it’s excessive. Intentionally excessive, in fact – the builder wanted people to visit in the future and think, why did he make it so big? The interior had an entire wall covered in gold leaf. There was a courtyard with an orange tree grove in the back. We climbed the tour (sore feet and knees and all) – 30 flights to the top, but well worth the amazing view. The bells of the tower chimed as we stood gazing over the city just 20 feet away – pretty cool. The guy standing directly under the bell had a bit of a different opinion though…

On the way down, Philip got a call that his family had taken an earlier train and had arrived in Sevilla. We rushed to find a bus and met them at the train station. As we tried to find the bus stop, Philip asked two uniformed policemen which way it was and they each pointed confidently in opposite directions. I only wish I’d had my camera out. We did find the right bus, and Philip’s family, then drove back into town in the rental car. We walked around for a bit before coming upon the horse-drawn carriages outside the Cathedral. We hired one and I enjoyed a gorgeous sunset tour of the city with the jetlagged family and the Spanish-speaking tour guide. Philip translated for everyone and I gained confidence in my comprehension of the Spanish language. It was a 45 minute cozy (read: crowded) tour of the city. By the end, we were ready for some tapas and dinner! We found both the places recommended by the tour guide and were not disappointed. As Philip always says, “Hunger is the best sauce!” and we had plenty.

It was a great meal, with great conversation and in a family environment. Family meals are one of those relaxing little things that I forget that I miss. I make my meals in the kitchen and eat on the go while cleaning up or in my room while writing emails, so it’s nice to occasionally sit and enjoy the meal. I had to leave in a bit of a rush to catch my train and was sad to leave, but so happy I had the chance to spend the evening with the Sandagers.

As I said goodbye, Lousia told me to check the bag she had given me with jeans from home for a little something extra. I had checked as soon as she handed them to me hours ago but hadn’t found anything. On the train, I checked again and realized that there was something in the back pocket. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning as I anxiously unbuttoned the pocket to find my treat! My mom had sent me a note, along with a surprise envelope that made my day! It could have been anything, I was just excited to get an unexpected (but hoped for) surprise. It was sweet and reminded me that I’m loved and a pretty lucky gal. It was also a nice way to start the next chapter of the trip – one I was not looking forward to.

The train arrived at the station at 12:20am. By the time I caught 3 metro lines and walked 4 blocks back to the apartment where I was staying – Philip’s friends had graciously agreed to host me since he was staying in the south with his family – it was after 1am. The lights in the common room where my couch was went off just after 2am. In the meantime I had gotten dressed for the next day – no reason to change into pajamas for an hour long nap.

Nov 2: Madrid

We arrived at El Rostro around 9:30am. The Sunday flea market. We walked around and I found myself some new gloves and a scarf and Christmas presents galore. Not sure how I would get them all back to the Netherlands, but sure that I needed them all, I took them. Philip purchased a painting and then we got some flowers on the way to church as a thank you to Philip’s Senora – his house-mother, Carmen – for letting me stay there.

The church we attended was a Pentecostal service held in a bar down a side street in Madrid, but it was packed. I caught most of what they were saying when I paid attention, but the concentration took so much effort that I only caught about half of what was going on.

After the service, I met Philip’s friends and Lienke was delighted when I greeted her in the Dutch way – 3 kisses rather than the Spanish two. She is an exchange student from Maastricht University in the far south of the Netherlands.

We made plans to meet them for dinner, then headed back to the apartment for paella – the traditional Spanish rice and seafood dish that Carmen prepares every Sunday afternoon. It was tasty! Philip claims it’s the best in all of Spain. I have only ever eaten Carmen’s paella, but I can believe him. It’s good stuff.

After lunch I needed another brief siesta before we started the rest of the day. An hour later Philip woke me to get ready to go to the park. First we took my bag to his friends’ apartment, where I would be staying for the next two nights. Then we headed to El Retiro – the Spanish equivalent to Central Park, I’m told – and rented a row boat. Philip’s been dying to rent one for months! We rowed around for a bit and watched the sun go down to the sound of a drum concert in the background. After 45 minutes, we returned the boat and wandered around the park for a little while longer.

It was getting dark, so we headed toward the Prado to finish up the tour that we hadn’t completed the night before. Philip spotted a friend as he was taking me from famous painting to famous painting and she joined us for the evening. By the end of the tour, I was ready to sit down and enjoy a drink. We found a small café and enjoyed American hot chocolate there – Spanish hot chocolate is more of a fondue than a drink.

After regaining some strength, we made our way the rest of the way across town to meet Philip’s friends for dinner. We had a great time at a Cuban restaurant. We all split several orders traditional Latin American foods such as plátanos (fried bananas) and I reminisced about Honduras.

We ended the night at a flamenco show in a small dinner theater with front row seats. The show was great, but after another long day, we were all falling asleep during the second act, so decided to leave around midnight before the third 30 minute set began.

I made it back to the apartment and fell into bed, determined to get every minute I could before our 7am departure for the south of Spain the next morning!

Nov 1: Leiden – Eindhoven – Madrid

As I left my room to catch the 5:15am train to the airport, I ran into several of my housemates returning from the Halloween parties of the previous night. I had been perfectly content to get to sleep early when I had been dragged out of bed the night before and named Toby’s gypsy pirate slave, despite my protests about being sick. Apparently gypsy pirate slaves don’t get to be sick. After assurances from my housemates that we would come home in time for me to get at least some sleep before my big trip, I began to get into costume. We made quite a crew biking across town: a monk, a pirate, a gypsy pirate slave, Africa, an 80s girl, and Joe the Plumber. I left early and did manage to get a nap before the trip, though as my housemates pointed out, they came back before I had to leave, I could have stayed!

I caught my train, the bus, and the plane and arrived in Madrid by 12:30pm. Philip was waiting for me and after we found me some food, we were off. [Note: Bogadillas are fantastic Spanish sandwiches, traditionally made of a smoked ham, cheese, and good bread.]

We took the metro to Philip’s homestay to drop off my bag and then were were off to see the city! I had a great time as Philip showed me around Puerta del Sol and Plaza Major and the Palace and the National Cathedral and many other places that I can not longer recall but were fun to see. He filled my brain with little tidbits of information and I felt like I was on my own personal tour – and I was!

We went into a store and purchased the traditional sweets of All Saints Day and All Souls Day, and then I broke the news to Philip: having just eaten the treats, I now felt obliged to attend a Catholic mass – it was a holy day of obligation and the rough equivalent of celebrating Christmas without the Jesus part. So we found a church and sat through mass. I expected everything to come rushing back to me from Honduras – I practically had the entire mass memorized after Holy Week this year – but it did not. I did remember bits and pieces, but the acoustics were so bad that it was hard to listen to what others were saying to catch up again.

In the evening, we walked around the Prado, which is free to the public from 6 – 8pm each night. Philip was in a course on Spanish art and knew so much about the paintings! It was fun to listen as he pointed out all of the symbolism that I never would have caught had he not explained it to me.

My favorite part was seeing the paintings by Goya and Velazquez that I had learned about in my high school Spanish class. At the time, I thought the unit on some art museum in Spain was ridiculous – I wasn’t ever going to go there. Until I did. But Philip was able to explain the significance of the paintings better than my teacher ever had. I knew what parts of the paintings were significant, but not why. He filled in those gaps.

By the time the museum closed at 8pm, I was exhausted. We went back to the apartment and I took a nap before going out for the night. Philip took me to a cute little tapas place and I experienced the terrible Spanish service that makes me glad that in America we tip our servers. It gives them a reason to be nice.

Following the potato and meat tapas, we checked out the café across the street, but it was too full and the clubs don’t start to fill up until at least 1am. We walked to the other side of the city center for churros con chocolate at the “best place in town.” Churros are softer here, not crunchy like in the US, and served with a cup full of liquid chocolate. Not like hot cocoa, but like a fondue. It was a deliciously rich dessert that I was unable to finish for all the sugar it contained.

We rushed back across town after the churros to get into a salsa club by midnight (free admission!) but arrived to find that free admission does not exist on Saturday nights. Oh well. We found another club and danced a few songs, ending on one by Shakira which made me miss Ella and Elyse and our renditions of Shakira songs on the bus on the way to Oklahoma in 2006.

In Madrid, many clubs hire people to stand on the streets and give out coupons to get people to go to that club. One guy found us and offered us free drinks. Despite the fact that neither of us actually wanted the free drink (I was on antibiotics and Philip does not like beer), we poor college students couldn’t turn down free. Upon entering the club I was delighted to see that it was all decked out in Halloween decorations. Even more fun was listening to the Spaniards try to pronounce the holiday. "AHH – low – een!" After that, we decided to call it a night. We were both sick, exhausted, and had an early morning ahead of us.