Spring Break Update--Installment #2

Sorry if this update is a little messy--I'm scrambling to get stuff done.

The next morning after we ate breakfast to the accompaniment of the dramatic opera music pouring out of the speaker overhead, we were picked up by our tour bus and our Andalucian Adventure began. On the 3-hour trip to Cordoba we met Valeria, our Energizer bunny-esque tour guide (in case you can’t remember, it rhymes with malaria) and a full bus load of people from every country in the Spanish speaking world and then some—the U.S., Canada, Brazil, Mexico, Australia, Costa Rica, Argentina, China, Colombia—everywhere. Valeria, who speaks 11 languages (holy crap!) provided commentary on the landscape, alternating between English and Spanish. The two languages started to blend together for me and I got dizzy.

That many people in such an enclosed space is bound to turn an ordinary tour bus into a soap opera. Gramma kept us up to date on a woman she’d spent the whole first day watching cry and pout, until Valeria told her something and she was suddenly a Crest toothpaste ad. The language barrier made this all the more dramatic. I dubbed the couple that sat in front of Jack and I “Mr. & Mrs. McFeely” because we had to spent the 3-hour ride watching them cuddle and Mrs. massage Mr.’s bald head. Ew.

At last we made it to Cordoba, where we had lunch as a big group. Then the bus dropped us off at la Mezquita, which is not a flavor of potato chips but the famous mosque-turned-cathedral that draws the masses to Cordoba (it’s in Dad’s book of “1,001 Places to Go Before You Die”). It’s this enormous structure that was added onto more and more by the Cordoba’s Muslims and then Christianized to all hell. I think it’s kind of lame that even today, Muslims aren’t allowed to come and worship there.

After a little ice cream break, it was back on the bus and on to Seville. When we arrived at the hotel, Jack, Andrew and I scoped out the pool situation (again, dead end), had some dinner (there was pasta salad!), went over to Corte Ingles for some apple pop, and had an Arrested Development party in the boys’ room. Good times.

The next morning our real Sevilla Experience began. After a breakfast that looked strangely like the dinner from the night before (yes, the pasta salad was still there) we boarded the bus for our day of sightseeing. As Valeria said “By the end of the day, you will be exhausted but you will have seen EVERYTHING.”

Our first stop was the Spanish Pavilion, which was built in 1929 as a sort of tribute to all of Spain. It looked kind of spooky in the morning fog and we ran around looking at the tile displays on the wall—one for each Spanish region. I checked off the places I’d been to and tried to remember interesting facts from the presentations we’d given in culture class (until I realized I’d slept through most of them).

Then it was back on the bus until we arrived at Maria Luisa Park where we began a little walking tour. We walked through the park, past the Cathedral (it was closed) and through pretty little bits of the city (with a little break for some souvenir shopping and something to drink—Gramma found some cute polka dot aprons and I got some postcards) and the Royal Palace. We also saw a troubadour who followed us around playing the Macarena on his guitar, then went to the church and saw the actual Macarena, which is one of the huge floats of the Virgin Mary that are carried around in the Holy Week processions (nothing to do with the song, which I think has to do with this guy Vitorino and his girlfriend Macarena).

By this time we were about spent and ready for lunch, and the bus dropped us off at our hotel. We had a lasagna-esque thing that was very good and filling, so we were surprised when the waiter came back with the SECOND course. Our afternoon was spent having a little quiet time before the flamenco show that night. A big group from our tour went to the show, where they fed us a tapas dinner and had sort of a showcase of “typical” (i.e. the tourist’s image) Spanish entertainment—some flamenco, other regional dances, a scene from Bizet’s opera “Carmen” and lots of pretty costumes. It was a great show, but quite touristy.

Gramma and the boys got back on the bus at the end of the show, but Mom, Dad and I went with Valeria, who was going to show us a good spot to go watch a procession. We walked up the street she pointed out, and it was like a carnival. All the Sevillanos were lined up on the street to watch, and vendors were selling treats and toys for all the little kids running around. Semana Santa processions are simple and all the same. They consist of a huge number of men wearing a robe with a big hood (resembling the KKK ensemble), marching slowly with lots of candles. Sometimes there is a marching band, playing a soft, sad tune. The main events are the floats, the first of which is a scene of Jesus, the second is the Virgen Maria Dolorosa. Hard to get a good picture of, but we tried.

The next morning it was back on the bus and off to Granada. The ride wasn’t unbearably long, and when we got to the Alhambra we got off the bus and into our standard two groups: one Spanish-speaking and one English/Italian speaking. The Alhambra is an incredibly strictly regulated place. Only a certain number of people can enter per day, which leads to huge lines to get in, especially during Semana Santa. Everything is on a strict timetable, too: we HAD to enter at our specific time. And so ensued our quick walk around the grounds of the Alhambra, long wait at the door of the actual door of the structure, and quick walk through. Jack just loved it.

I’ve decided, after seeing both the Royal Palace in Sevilla and the Alhambra, I decided I like the architecture in these Muslim-designed structures more than any Cathedral I’ve ever seen. There’s something about the simplicity of it—just geometric patterns—that made both places seem very calm, not like cathedrals that are so intense and overwhelming.

After a quick lunch stop (grab a sandwich and go! go! go!) we went on to a cathedral, the one where the famous Ferdinand and Isabella were buried (you know, the ones that gave Columbus money to go discover crap, and the conquistadores and whatnot? Their marriage formed Spain as we know it?) along with their daughter Juana la Loca and her husband Felipe el Hermoso. If you’re looking for a good Spanish movie to see (other than Volver, which I’ve already recommended) you should see “Juana la Loca” (I think it’s called “Joan the Mad” in English). We watched it in lit class and it was really good. REALLY disturbing.

Next stop was the monastery, then a photo stop at an overlook of Granada, then back to the hotel for some dinner. Afterward ensued another pool search (found it on the roof, but it had no water in it) and a movie night with the brothers. A little “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” and a little apple pop. Then sleep.